TV, health care, and nightmares

Chapter 4: TV, health care, and nightmares
==Text==
Hermann wakes alone, a warm hollow in the mattress where Newt had been. Somehow beginning the morning this way feels different than it had the previous 13,001 days he had done so. "I thought I was immune to this," he mumbles as he eases himself to his feet and limps to his morning medication. Hermann retrieves the orange juice to down his pills. He unscrews the lid and begins to lift it to his lips before very deliberately setting it down on the counter. He scowls at it, retrieves a glass from the cupboard, and fills it.
"Still having ghost Drift issues, Hermann?" Newt teases as he steps out of the bathroom dressed and toweling his hair dry. Hermann startles violently and nearly loses his footing. Newt drops the towel and grabs hold of his arm before he topples. Hermann jumps again. He stares, confused, at Newt's hand on his skin. Newt's gaze flicks between Hermann's face and his own hand. He leaves it in place for an indecisive beat before letting it drop to drum fingers nervously against his thigh. "So … breakfast after a shower?"
"Then the lab, yes." Hermann nods and walks toward the bathroom before pausing. "I suppose we should tell someone we haven’t died or turned into kaiju."
"Oh yeah!" Newt says, snapping his fingers. "We probably need to collect our 'big damn heroes' medals."
"Do they give medals for that or is the reward a shiny hat?" Hermann raises an eyebrow.
"Are you serious? Only bad guys wear hats!"
"Except for cunning hats sent by their mothers."
"Oh. My. God," Newt says with breathy amazement. "I don’t believe it. We just had a conversation composed entirely of references to a cult TV show from when we were kids. That I had no idea you watched. I didn't think you even knew what a TV was."
"I don't," Hermann says, his face as straight as a yardstick. "I rely on my laptop for entertainment."
Newt stares open-mouthed for a moment then chokes on a laugh. He doubles over as he tries and mostly fails to breathe. Hermann glares at him, an expression that shifts to one of pure horror as he replays his own words. "You are such a child," he snarls before fleeing into the bathroom, taking his tomato-red cheeks with him.
As Hermann leaves the shower Newt steals a glance at him, noting the twisted shape of his right knee and the crooked ridge of an improperly healed break on his shin. He winces sympathetically. Hermann catches the motion and meets Newt’s eyes with a glare. He closes the bathroom door with a bang.
Something about the noise triggers a flash of residual Drift in Newt’s mind: A roof, the wind, a sharp crack, blinding pain, blood. Newt shakes his head to clear the images.
When Hermann finally emerges, Newt addresses him gently. "You were a kid. You couldn’t have known they wouldn’t lift you." Anger creeps into his voice as he continues. "Your family should have taken you to a doctor and had that treated properly."
"Reveal the family secret to an outsider?" Hermann scoffs. "My parents thought it better to leave me crippled. I was already weak, sickly, and disfigured, how much worse could a lame leg make matters?"
"You’re their son!" Newt shrieks, fists shaking at his sides.
Hermann shrugs. "They did what they felt they had to do."
"What a bunch of assholes," Newt grumbles. "So, uh, what do you do for doctors now? The annual physicals? Do the brass know about … uh, this?"
"No, they don’t," he answers emphatically. "My eldest brother is a physician. He takes care of any documentation and treatment I require."
"But doesn’t he live in Europe somewhere? What do you do if you get sick? Or hurt?"
"In Geneva. If I get sick, I get well on my own," Hermann says dispassionately.
"You’re insane!" Newt yelps once he picks his jaw off the floor.
"Drifting with you wasn’t proof enough of that?" Hermann smirks back.
At the close of the day, they settle into bed as they had the previous nights. This time, however, neither of them asks or grants permission. As they search for comfortable positions Hermann cautiously edges nearer to Newt who meets him in the middle of the mattress smiling.
"Hermann? You ever have flying dreams?" The man hums an affirmative. "What’re they like?"
"I imagine they are much like yours," he says with a shrug. "Sun. Wind. A view of the treetops."
"Yeah," Newt responds. "Mine usually end with me falling to earth or getting sucked into a jet intake, though. I bet you get to soar longer and land softly." His voice carries jealousy along with curiosity.
"No. No, I don’t think our dreams are dissimilar. Mine end poorly as well, although I find myself in a cage instead of a turbine."
"Oh," Newt says with surprise. "That's not what I thought from watching you. Your wings always move pretty calmly."
Hermann pushes himself up on his elbows and looks down at Newt. "You've been watching me sleep?"
"It's not like I have anything better to do in the dark waiting for you to wake up." He chuckles. "Well, I can think of one thing, maybe, but that would be plain weird," he says.
"We are not discussing that," Hermann growls with finality, glaring at Newt with a force the other man can feel.
"No-no, of course we're not," Newt replies. An uncomfortable pause full of nervous shifting follows, until Hermann stills and breaks the quiet.
"The cage is my greatest nightmare and one I revisit often." He speaks softly and with effort, as though fighting with himself to form the words. "I wait for the men who will dissect me to arrive. They want to discover how I was built by taking me apart." Hermann pauses and Newt catches himself holding his breath. "If I don't wake up quickly enough," Hermann continues, "I feel them make the first incisions." They both shiver. After a beat, Hermann tucks his wings more tightly around them.
"Hermann," Newt says as he places a hand on the other man's shoulder, "that's not going to happen while I'm around. If anyone is going to take you apart, it's going to be me."
Hermann is silent for a moment. "If that was meant to be comforting, Newton, it failed miserably at the task," he declares.
"Oh, for … ," an exasperated Newt begins as Hermann cuts him off.
"Goodnight, Newton."
"Goodnight. Umm. Sweet dreams." Hermann grumbles something unintelligible in response as Newt smiles into the dark.
==Meta==
They started getting out of control in this chapter. What was supposed to be a one chapter bromance/friendship fic is now looking to be at least six chapters long and the little babies are trying very hard to drag it in a less Gen direction.
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