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Hermann despises when the rangers wander down to their lab, and he doesn’t try to hide it. Honestly, it should go without saying when everyone in the entire Shatterdome knows he can barely stand Newton in his same space without laying tape over the center of the room. Most rangers steer clear of the lab on principle, but occasionally the younger set will wander down to idly see what the unsung heroes of the PPDC are doing.
They rarely stay for long. Hermann is usually relatively unpersonable enough to keep them from conversation, and while Newton is perfectly friendly anywhere else in the Shatterdome, when working in his own personal space, most of the crew has learned by now that he tends to shy away from people with whom he is unfamiliar.
It’s happened once or twice that a ranger will overstay his welcome and Hermann will snap at them, make them feel like a complete idiot and, if all else fails, prod them with his cane until they leave.
Newton never makes a fuss, but Hermann has caught on that he’s appreciative of Hermann’s aggression. At first Hermann had assumed that Newton’s personality type meant he preferred large groups and many different people to talk to at any given time, but after working together so long he’s learned of Newton’s anxieties, and how strangers or infrequent visitors in the lab tend to throw his concentration.
Which is why, when Chuck Hansen makes his way into their domain, alone and what seems to be somewhat tipsy, Hermann does not waste time.
Hermann does not care for Chuck sober and in the best of moods, and he certainly will not cater to him drunk and grumpy. He allows civility for several snidely asked questions before saying flatly, “Newton and I do not get paid to babysit, ranger Hansen. Do please find your way back to your father’s care. We have not the time nor the patience.”
Newton has his headphones on, as he always does when someone who is not the Marshall or Hermann enters the lab. He’s wrist deep in what looks to be a kaiju kidney and is humming along tunelessly to whatever garbage he listens to. Hermann feels guilty when he gets this way. As much as he hates how obnoxious Newton can be, his silence has become too unnerving to prefer.
Chuck doesn’t listen, anyway, wanders over to Hermann’s chalkboard and eyes it with a look of deep disinterest. “So now that the jaegers have been built,” Chuck says with mock curiousity, “What use are you?”
Hermann has grown far past used to the jabs of lesser-minded people, and does not blink as Chuck swoops in on his personal space. Chuck is not his father, or the Marshall. Chuck is not the boys who terrorized him all his life, though he currently seems desperate to emulate them. Chuck is a twenty-two-year-old hothead who has no power over Hermann in the slightest.
“I understand you are emotionally wounded after being told that what you do is of more damage than help, but I will not condone the same trivial opinion to be thrown in my direction. Especially not by the likes of you.”
Chuck’s eyes light up. “The likes of me, eh?” Chuck repeats, his voice low, “What’re the likes of me, then? Go ahead, gimme your best shot.”
“You are not a child, ranger Hansen,” Hermann says sharply, “Do stop acting like one or shall have to get your father myself.”
Chuck snarls, and Hermann, despite himself, feels the familiar spark of fear that perhaps he’s gone too far. He glances at Newton, who looks up as if on cue. Curiously, he pops one of his earbuds from his ear and narrows his eyes, trying to assess the situation.
Hermann hears the scrape of metal against the tile floor; Newton is getting to his feet. “Hey.” His voice sounds strange, harder than usual, “What’re you doing? Get out of his face.”
Hermann, assuming Newton is speaking to him - if only because Newton is usually speaking to him - starts, “I was only -”
“Chuck,” Newton says firmly, talking over Hermann as if he hadn’t spoken, “Get out of his face.”
Chuck looks like Christmas has come early, and Hermann looks mournfully at the exit Chuck is blocking, wondering if there’s some way he can sidle past him and find Chuck’s father or the Marshall, who seem to be the only two people in the Shatterdome capable of subduing Chuck at all.
“And here comes the lapdog to the rescue,” Chuck says, “What’re you gonna do?”
“I dunno,” Newton says, “Are you gonna be an adult or are you gonna make me get your daddy to give you a time out in your robot?”
Hermann looks at the ceiling and sighs. This is just what he needs.
The action causes Chuck to turn his attention back to Hermann. “You’re gonna act like you’re above this, now are you? You were making the same cracks when he wasn’t listening.”
Hermann catches Newton’s face out of the corner of his eye, smiling at him in a way that looks almost proud. He smirks. “I have never said I’m above mocking you, ranger. I just do not want an all-out brawl to break out in my lab.”
“Is that right?” Chuck barks at him, and before Hermann can react, he shoves him hard in the chest. Hermann loses balance quickly and falls back into his ladder. He tries catching himself, but the angle is too awkward, and his cane clatters to the floor loudly the same time as Hermann hits the ground.
“HEY!” Hermann hears Newton shout, and turns just in time to see Newton whizz past him from across the room.
Startled, Chuck goes down easy, hitting the floor with a loud crack.
“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
It takes Chuck a moment to gather himself, but by the time he tries to throw Newton off, Newton has established enough of a hold to simply knee him in the jaw.
Hermann is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just stays, leaning against the ladder, crouched between sitting on the floor and getting to his feet, unable to move like a deer caught in headlights. The position is killing his already screaming leg, but his muscles are pulled tense and he can’t tell them what to do.
“What kind of asshole pushes a guy with a cane, you fucking sociopath?” Newton screams, and Hermann yelps when a fist lands in Chuck’s face, cringes when he hears it hit a second time. “What are you even doing down here? Newsflash, fuckwit, you can’t pick on nerds to feel better about yourself anymore! We have jobs now! Lives! We don’t need you to like us anymore!”
Hermann snaps out of it when Newton raises his fist again, stumbling to his side and grabbing his arm. As his fingers wrap around his wrist, he realizes Newton is shaking. “Newton,” Hermann says loudly, “Stop it, Newton. Please. That’s quite enough.”
Newton’s chest is heaving when he turns to look at Hermann. “Are you okay?”
He’s done a complete emotional flip, and his voice is unnaturally soft now. It sounds almost as if he’s been crying rather than shouting. Hermann doesn’t know what to say.
“I’m - I’m fine, for the love of God, get off of him.”
Hermann tugs on his arm, but Newton doesn’t budge. He turns back to Chuck and glares. “Apologize to him or my knee goes in your throat, asshole.”
“Newton, good God what has gotten into you,” Hermann asks under his breath. He puts his free hand against his blackboard and puts all of his weight on it, wrenching hard at Newton’s arm until he finally relents and gets to his feet. “If the Marshall finds out about this you’re -”
“Oh, go ahead and tell the fucking Marshall,” Newton snaps, his attention still on Chuck, as if he’s the one who said it. “Wait til I tell him why I kicked your ass. I’m willing to get told off for defending my friend. Are you willing to get told off for picking a fight with him?”
Hermann glances down at Newton at the word ‘friend,’ but doesn’t say anything.
Chuck gets to his feet without saying anything.
Newton raises his eyebrows. “Well?”
Chuck spits at him, and it lands on Newton’s glasses. Hermann expects him to lunge again, but Newton only rolls his eyes and takes his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt. “Mature. Are you gonna apologize to Dr. Gottlieb or not?”
The “sorry” that comes out of Chuck’s mouth is more of a bitter growl than an actual apology, but Hermann nods furiously and grabs Newton’s shoulder before it can become a problem.
“Yes, well.” Hermann isn’t quite sure what to say in situations like this. No one has ever apologized to him before. “It’s...fine,” he finally decides. “You may go.” Chuck doesn’t leave immediately, and Hermann pointedly says, “Please,” in unison with Newton shouting,
“Now.”
As the door slams behind Chuck, Hermann rounds on Newton. “What the hell is wrong with you? He could’ve hurt you, he could get you kicked out of the PPDC for that, he could -” Hermann runs out of detrimental possibilities and instead revisits the point he was trying to make, “Why?”
Newton shrugs. “I don’t like bullies,” he says evenly.
“He spit on you and you didn’t even blink,” Hermann points out.
“Well. That’s me.”
“But -”
“No one should get to push you around, Hermann,” Newton says suddenly, “I don’t...you’re a genius, you don’t deserve that shit.”
“You’re a genius who doesn’t deserve to get spit on,” Hermann finds himself saying before he can think it through.
Newton laughs. “Well, thanks, but I did.” His voice is breezy now, like it’s a joke. Like he didn’t just take down a jaeger pilot twice his size because he shoved Hermann too hard.
Hermann nods, trying to understand the difference. “Right, and I got pushed.”
The smile falls from Newton’s face. He’s starting to get flustered trying to explain himself. “You’re - you’re different, okay? You’re just…” he gropes for another word before just repeating defeatedly, “Different.”
“Newton,” Hermann starts, but he doesn’t have anything else to say, and they stand staring at each other in silence for a few moments before Newton finally throws up his hands somewhere between frustration and nervousness.
“Look, are you - are you okay? Because I could swear I heard a crack and you fell pretty hard, I just...you’re okay?”
Hermann nods. “Yes, thank you, I’m fine.” After a minute he asks warily, “Are you?”
Newton smiles, nodding back. “Yeah,” he says. He pats Hermann’s arm as he walks past him, back to his own side of the lab. “As long as you are.”
They don’t speak of it again.
A week later, in a hasty Drift thrown together with garbage in the Bone Slums of Hong Kong, Hermann feels the I love you Newton meant to say.