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They're curled up in bed together (which is not unusual) when it happens. Newt is half-asleep already, his eyelids fluttering. Hermann has a book in one hand, the other creeping slowly and steadily under Newt's shirt, fingertips stroking over his skin in an absent, maybe-this-will-lead-to-something-maybe-it-won't kind of way. Every now and then he'll find a scar and trace it with the pad of one finger briefly before moving on. They've discussed the scars before; Hermann was horrified at first to learn that every injury Newt receives when in his kaiju form leaves a scar on his human form. Newt's attitude towards the whole thing is so blase, however, that eventually Hermann calmed down about it– Newton has always been accepting of Hermann's scars, and, as he put it, "if the giant lizard transformation thing didn't phase you, are you really gonna freak out over a couple scars? The tattoos hide them anyway".
It's become something almost like a game by this point; when Hermann finds a particularly strangely-shaped scar he'll make a little "hmm" sound in the back of his throat, trace it a couple times and try to come up with his own hypothesis of how it happened. Newt will give him a few moments before telling him (and then Hermann will try to figure out whether he's telling the truth without using his own powers).
He feels the raised ridges of three parallel scars on Newt's hip. "Hmm." Claw marks, he muses, trying to remember everything they've faced that had claws… "Is this from that big ape-alien?"
Newt chuckles, eyes half-shut, and shakes his head. "Nah, I actually accidentally did that one to myself, trying to scratch an itch with my back claws." He takes hold of Hermann's hand, guides it up to the long, jagged line that curves from his hip up to his ribs. "That's the one from the space ape," he says sleepily, and Hermann shakes his head with fond exasperation, fingers splaying out over his belly.
"You're an idiot," he says, and Newt nods in inattentive agreement. He huffs and lets his touch travel slowly, softly up and down the warm, inked skin. Newt sighs happily and lets his eyes slip shut, and Hermann glances back at his book.
He pauses when his fingers find another scar– this one faded, old, barely noticeable on the first pass. He follows it very carefully, maps it out from Newt's bellybutton up over his sternum, where it splits across his collarbones. A Y incision. Like a medical examiner would make on a corpse. He's so focused on following the scar, wondering where it came from, that he doesn't notice Newt tensing up until a wave of anxiety comes flooding into his mind, making him flinch back even as Newt rolls over to face away from him.
Hermann is tempted, so tempted for just a moment, to sneak into Newt's mind and see what he's seeing right now. He hold himself back, but it's times like these that he almost prefers Newt's kaiju form– kaiju Newt holds nothing back, broadcasts his emotions directly at Hermann in an almost constant stream. He swallows, sets his book aside and takes his glasses from his nose, letting them hang from their chain against his chest. "Newton?"
Newt takes a deep breath, exhales, and Hermann feels the roiling chaos of fear and discomfort abate somewhat, drawing back into the smaller man. "So, uh," Newt sits up, still not looking at him. "So that's from. Well. A while ago."
"Yes?"
Newt glances at him over his shoulder, eyes wide behind his own glasses. "Well, there was this. This guy, Peter. Back before we met, before the kaiju. I met him in grad school and, I dunno, he was smart and he… aheh, he tolerated me." He grins weakly, obviously waiting for Hermann to snort or roll his eyes. Hermann doesn't, so Newt continues. "So we dated for a while. Um. Pretty seriously." He's red-faced with shame or embarrassment when he says, "I was– I thought I was in love with him," and Hermann doesn't need to look into Newt's mind to know that he was.
"Anyway, we were together and we were both genius biologists, it was, it was good. And then, well, the kaiju attack happened and we both thought 'Holy crap what an amazing opportunity, the freaking possibilities of this thing'…" He takes off his glasses, rubs at his eyes. "We both got offers from the government to work on the remains, and normally I would've given them the finger and told them to kiss my ass-" He laughs again and Hermann nods; they're both well aware of how anti-establishment Newt tends to be. "-but the chance to work on the kaiju… I couldn't resist. And it was pretty fun for a while, and holy crap, the sex was– yeah, you don't wanna hear about that part. Heh. Sorry."
"Newton."
"Right, right." He coughs and turns his glasses over in his hands. "So, the big incident happened. I was working alone, so I was the only one that got hit with the toxin. I transformed for the first time, there in the lab, and I was so confused and freaked out that I managed to trash the place. Security showed up, they panicked, I panicked, they shot at me a bunch… I don't know if I killed any of them, I still don't know no matter how many times I…" His voice falters. Hermann carefully places a hand on his shoulder, thin fingers curling into the fabric of Newt's t-shirt, grounding. Newt lets out a breath and starts up again. "Eventually they cornered me and shot me enough times to knock me out. When I woke up I was chained up in one of the labs, on one of the tables I used to dissect kaiju organs at. I was still pretty scared, so I hadn't turned back into me yet. There were all these scientists around me, everybody in these stupid hazmat suits like in movies… and they're all talking to each other about how to vivisect me. They thought I was some kind of underdeveloped kaiju fetus that had somehow survived and popped out of one of the organs. I tried to talk to them, but, I mean, you've heard me try to vocalize in kaiju form; it was like whale-Godzilla sounds."
Hermann nods; outside of the mental link he can form, kaiju-Newt has no way of communicating with others. He can't imagine how frustrating and terrifying the experience must have been.
Newt shrugs, a slightly strangled laugh forcing its way out of his throat. "Well, they cut me open. Dug around a little bit, then backed off and called in their 'specialist'."
Hermann makes a sound, quiet and pained, and Newt nods.
"Of course, it was him. When he showed up, I thought for a second that maybe I could get through to him, maybe he'd realize it was me strapped to that table and he'd help and it'd be okay…" He snorts derisively, like he's criticizing his own naivete. "You can guess how well that worked. It took another three hours before my heart rate actually got weak enough for me to turn back, and when I did I almost bled to death right there. They managed to patch me up enough to keep me alive, and I was thinking, Oh thank god, now they know it's me, it's gonna be okay…" He swallows, looks down at his hands, and Hermann's stomach twists up on itself even more.
"Newton… you don't have to-"
"No, it's okay," Newt shakes himself and brushes some hair away from his eyes. "Um, so yeah, you can probably guess that I was wrong. I tried to talk to Peter, to anybody, and they just spoke over me. Talked about how best to proceed, whether the transformation was temporary, whether they could provoke the same response again, whether it was worth it to keep me alive for more testing or just harvest all the parts of me they could right then…" His voice breaks, and he swipes at his eyes with one fist while Hermann places an open palm against his spine, warm and safe. "I'm not really sure how long they had me. It felt like a really long time. Different scientists came in and out, a bunch of military people. Peter was there most of the time. I tried talking to him for a while but it didn't– he never responded. Not to anything, insults, questions, begging, he never batted an eye. Every time I got scared enough to transform they'd slice me open again. One day they were poking around inside me and Peter cut into– you remember that weird acid stuff I can spit up sometimes?"
Hermann nods, wincing.
"Yeah, he hit whatever organ that comes out of and, well, you can imagine…"
He can imagine, but he doesn't want to; he's seen what that acid does to both organic and inorganic matter, the way it burns and melts flesh. He can imagine.
"Well. The stuff went everywhere, managed to melt through the restraints, and while everyone was panicking and screaming I got away. Clawed my way past security, got up to the roof and flew." Newt sighs, shoulders slumping, and leans back into Hermann's touch. "So, um– yeah, you pretty much know the rest. I was on the run for a while, moving around, trying to avoid people. The US government kept after me; a couple of times they got close and it would get– messy." He curls his hands over themselves, crosses his arms and tucks his elbows in against his sides, the way he folds his wings when in his kaiju form. "Eventually I ended up in Hong Kong, and Pentecost found me– actually, this was like, right before you and I met in person. He's managed to keep the military off my back. Well, him and Sasha and Aleksis; those two have some kind of crazy powerful backers and they are not shy about telling the government to fuck off." He grins, a little of his usual self glowing through, but it's still fragile.
Hermann almost doesn't ask, but he feels he has to, to ease some of the fury and fear and sorrow he feels tangled up in a messy knot between his lungs. "And… Peter?"
Newt's face falls a little, but he keeps his tone steady and calm as he answers. "He's alive. He got burned pretty badly, but he survived and he's… he still works for them. I've seen him a couple times when they hunted me down. Never let him get close enough to talk."
Hermann nods, understanding that they're done discussing it for now. Later, when Newton is asleep, he'll go to Pentecost and get whatever information they have on Newt's pursuers, make absolutely certain that there is no way in a hundred thousand years that this Peter or any of his associates will get anywhere near him again. Now, he rubs Newt's back, traces his tattoos, and kisses the top of his head while they curl up under the blankets again, perhaps a little closer than before, maybe holding one another a little tighter. Right now, they keep each other safe.