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ONE - TAXONOMY
When her husband comes to her gnashing his teeth and ranting about the latest transgression committed by her 'monster,' she shrugs and returns to her reading. If she feels difficult, she reminds him the boy is a work of art and not a 'monster.'
How can the man not see the beauty in what she's made? She knows her husband holds no poetry in his soul and no love whatsoever for the chaotic elegance of biology. He has no understanding of how genes and flesh and blood can be sculpted into beautiful forms just as the wires and plastics and sheet metal can be crafted into the robots he spends his time building.
He hisses at her to control the little beast and she laughs at him. It is so much more fun to wind up her creations and let them go their own ways. Not like her husband and his need for programs to control every aspect of behavior. He wants to build little tin soldiers. She wants to create life which is wild and uncontrolled.
So she watches the little winged one with pride, if not affection, as he scampers about with his much less interesting siblings, feathers flashing in the sunshine pouring through the house's big windows. She made him very nearly perfect. A few manipulations had not panned out and a few more need to be made, but she came oh so very close to perfection.
If only she could secure more funding and locate a new lab, she could improve on him, make a truly perfect version. Maybe if her husband saw a flawless one, he would call it beautiful, rather than 'monster.'
TWO - FIFTH ONE
"This kid is a monster!" the tutor says, barely restraining her indignation. Lars Gottlieb glares down at Hermann, temper rising as he remembers this is the fifth tutor he has engaged in recent years for his incorrigible 'son.'
"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Schroeter," he says.
"He not only never does what I ask, but he keeps interrupting to correct me." Hermann's behavior never changes. Always he challenges those more educated, confident in his considerable intellectual gifts.
Lars digs his fingers into the boy's shoulder to keep his teeth from grinding as he forces out, "Please, accept my apologies. He's been impossible these last months."
"Raising four kids alone is not an easy task," she says gravely. "Perhaps a boarding school would fix this one?" Lars hears hope in the woman's voice. She wants rid of the troublesome boy and his defiance.
"I'm afraid not. If even under my gaze he behaves like this I can hardly imagine what he'd do away from me."
"I'm sure you do your best, Doctor Gottlieb. Your wife's passing is still recent, I'm certain you'll manage him." The tutor kindly pats Lars' hand as she passes.
"With this attitude, I'm not sure any respectable school would accept this little monster ... ," he murmurs as he releases the boy, referring to both Hermann's physical and behavioral abnormalities.
THREE - CHALLENGES
It isn't Hermann's fault. Doctor Munro should know his material better than this. Just skimming the textbook shows the inaccurate measures he's using. Hermann did them all a favor by calling the man out.
Now the entire class has extra work because their professor can't handle a little challenge or admit a mistake. The rest of the students glare at Hermann's hunched shoulders. Edan knows that feeling.
Edan stares at Hermann's back, too, but in admiration. He'd only caught one error, not the four Hermann spotted and Edan knows he's good at this. Hermann is ... something special. Intimidating as all hell, but special.
He scratches away at the exercises and watches a bloke he recognizes stomp over and elbow Hermann solidly on the shoulder. Hermann flinches and squeaks, but the guy glares at him bitterly and growls, "Stop whining! I'm late for my next class because of you, you monster."
Edan finishes his problem set, notes Hermann has already left, and darts after the asshole, catching him as he exits the building. "Listen, mate, just because you're stupid and slow doesn't mean the rest of us are. Lay off your betters or I'll tell your girl you're fucking Poppy. Your choice," Edan says. He thumps the guy on the back and peels off toward his next lecture, very glad Katha is a gossip.
FOUR - CONNECTIONS
Months after his first kiss with Hermann, he’s still an emotional mess. Thanks to Hermann's brother, the other boy told him he truly loved him and he was truly sorry things went the way they did. On one hand, he is happy he heard Hermann’s singular Manchester-via-Bavaria accent one last time. On the other, his heart breaks every time his phone rings from another number.
Surely Hermann begged him not to contact him, afraid of what his father would do if he caught him anywhere near him, but he said he loves him, too. He still hasn't given up on finding a way to see Hermann again, to bring him back to Manchester … .
Edan looks down at his empty hands. If he closes his eyes, he can feel Hermann's long fingers in his, feel Hermann's always pale, cool skin soaking up warmth from his body. Now, despite his sadness, he is glad he was able to give that tiny gift to the fragile, lonely boy he loves. Even though he'll probably never see him again, he feels incredibly grateful Hermann's brother and sister found and saved him that night.
By now he knows the options which won't work by heart. Hermann can't simply come back. Too young. Can't be emancipated. Needs parental permission. Can't marry Edan. Too young and needs permission. Himself threatened with charges if he comes within Hermann's father's sight. In more ways than one, they are trapped in the same cage, even though they can't touch each other.
Edan won't abandon him and begs Katha to keep track. Just in case.
FIVE - THUNDERSTORMS
The thunderstorm crashing outside is rare for Hong Kong in autumn, but here it is, bringing down the power in the Shatterdome.
Hermann pauses in his work, even though the lack of light doesn't impede his vision. Newton, however ... . Newton hates thunderstorms. They scare him nearly witless, Hermann knows.
Hermann drags himself toward the conference room where Newton is supposed to be doing paperwork with Tendo Choi. Hermann doesn't worry about Newton, but if he's too upset to get a good night's sleep, he'll be insufferable to work near tomorrow.
His uneven footsteps echo along the empty halls. The rest of the base sleeps or lies low during power failures. For them, the building flickers in the orange glow of emergency lighting. For Hermann, the dim light is more than enough to see clearly.
The conference room sits empty, but soft and frightened noises come from the staff lounge a few doors further along.
"It's a monster!" Newton squeaks as Hermann reaches the threshold.
"What are you two doing here?" Hermann demands.
Through the dark, he sees Tendo shove Newton aside. "What do you mean, 'monster,' you dork? It's only Hermann ... ," he says.
Newton pushes Tendo back. "Isn't it the same?" he asks.
Hermann flinches and he reaches reflexively for the binding across his chest. He forces the hand back into his pocket and pivots with as much grace as he can, retreating to the solitude of his quarters.
Newton will have to deal with this storm on his own.
PLUS ONE - SHOW AND TELL
Okay. Newt needs something to distract himself from the last Kaiju attack and the new samples just aren't hacking it. The Kaiju was dead, yeah, but the Jaeger almost went down, too. Like that one from Anchorage did a few months back. Hermann got so upset back then he was impossible to be around for a couple of days.
So he finally does it. He finally goes to the studio at the edge of the Bone Slums and has the design applied to his forearm. Not the creature from a couple of days ago, but an old favorite instead. It takes all afternoon and when he gets back he was almost high on happiness at seeing it in living color on his skin. Or maybe he's only buzzed on adrenalin. He makes a beeline for the lab and for Hermann. There really isn't anyone else in Hong Kong he wants to show.
"Hermy!" he calls as soon as he clears the door at a jog. "You'll never guess what I just did!" He crowds up to Hermann at the man's desk, rolling up his sleeve, barely able to contain his excitement, nearly bouncing on his toes. This is so awesome, he just has to show it off right now. "Yeah, so, since you'll never guess right, I'll be nice and spare you the effort."
He flashes a forearm still covered in film from the tattoo parlor. For a moment Hermann looks impressed, maybe even ... flattered. Then his face collapses into a black scowl and he jerks himself to his feet, knocking his cane from its place hooked over the edge of his desk.
"What exactly does this mean, Doctor Geiszler?" Hermann snarls. He picks this moment to lord his extra three inches of height over Newt, doing his best to loom. "Are you out of your kaiju groupie mind? Don't you know people wake up every day fearing it could be their last because of these ... monsters? Don't you know what we do here?!"
Hermann is as mad as Newt has ever seen him and Newt has seen him mad a lot. Usually, he's the reason Hermann is angry, so at least that's that same. Every muscle and tendon in the man's face and neck is as tight as a bowstring and Newt can actually hear the teeth grinding in the back of his jaw. For one of very few times in his life, Newt takes a step back from another person.
"I don't even know anymore why are you here. You're always playing and being obnoxious and inconvenient. I've lost count of how much damage you've caused to our lab with your entrails and barely-contained fumes. And now, to top it all, you just made yourself a walking monument to the very beings you should be helping destroy! This is not even ridiculous anymore, Newton ... ."
Hermann's face flushes bright red and, as he stares down his nose, Newt feels so much like an insect about to be squashed it's not funny at all. Or maybe like someone about to be stepped on by a kaiju. And then the ... jerk has the nerve to smirk at him. He knows ... Hermann knows how much he's hurting me. And he's getting off on it. Not even Kaiju smirk like that.
"Dude ... ," Newt starts as Hermann spins on his heel, grabs his cane, and limps away with the stiff dignity only a pissed off Brit can manage. All of the day's excitement drains out of Newt and he folds into Hermann's recently vacated chair exhausted.
Godammit, this is as bad as their first meeting. It's that day all over again. Newt presses the heels of hands against his eyes under his glasses. Just when he was starting to think he and Hermann might, someday, kinda, get along, and maybe, possibly, in the distant future, be friends ... .
Dammit.