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From The Depths | ממעמקים

Chapter 7: Mercy of Vultures

Authors: @verfalne & @piedelune

Fandom: Pacific Rim

Relationships: Hermann Gottlieb x Newton Geiszler

Rating: Mature

Chapter Summary: Hermann survives his deadly encounter, but not unscathed. With Hannibal Chau, he faces what Newt has become and must take the man's fate into his hands.

Excerpt:

More coughing—raw and tearing—hooked him from the hallway. Hermann rounded the corner just as Chau’s phone skittered across the floor. The man had folded in half, one hand clamped to his throat. "Are you—oh, scheiße…” He halted in the entryway, clutching the hems of his robe like a security blanket. “Do you, er… n-need help?” Chau deterred him with a shake of the head, fishing an aquamarine inhaler from one of his numerous pockets. Two hard pulls. It glowed with each inhale. He hunched, dragging breath through grit; the rasp began to ease, but only barely. "Gh… kkghh…" Hermann recognised the device instantly: one of the few sanctioned treatments for Kaiju bloodmist inhalation. A reprieve, not a cure. Most who carried one didn’t live long. It only stretched the slow drowning. Colour didn’t return to Chau’s face, but the swagger did. He tipped his head, wet his lips from the black flask, and flashed a crooked grin. "Nice to have someone not hoping I'll croak, for a change,” said Chau hoarsely. “But I'm not due for my pine overcoat just yet. Heh…" Hermann’s eyes narrowed—a mix of pity and exasperation. “I wouldn’t say you’re far off. Why go to such trouble for Newton and myself when you’re…?” A bark of laughter cut him off. “I like being king of the hill, doc.” Gleam of teeth, glint of rings. “And I plan to reign ‘til Charon ferries my ass over the Styx.” A hollow sigh pushed through Hermann’s nose. “It sounds a rather meaningless throne.” “I live for the now,” Chau shrugged, unbothered. “Anything can happen! Life's too short to be a pussy. You gotta live a little.” The line struck a nerve. where have I heard that before? Hermann’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing, and kept his distance. “Hey, your boyfriend seemed to agree,” crowed the other. Trying not to rise to the bait, Hermann turned slightly, knuckle pressed to his mouth. “Like I said, he isn’t—and it’s none of your business. We’re not…” “That right?” purred Chau, perfectly pleased with himself. “Tongues down each other’s throats at a commie bar doesn't count?” Heat rose—folding into the old, curdled shame that had started this whole ruin. Hermann fastened his robe tighter, like it would deflect being seen. When he finally spoke, his tone was ironed flat. “Apparently not.” He didn’t turn. Didn’t rise. The muscle beneath his eye jumped, but his posture held. “Seriously? Doc, you’re stupid as hell.” Chau grinned with a tap of the finger square in the centre of Hermann’s forehead. His sunglasses stood out like the predatory gaze of a wild animal. Hermann swiped the intrusion away with the back of his hand just as two hard knocks rattled the front door.

2004 / 2025

I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant. -OG

From The Depths | ממעמקים

Chapter 5: Descent into the Maelström

Authors: @verfalne & @piedelune

Fandom: Pacific Rim

Relationships: Hermann Gottlieb x Newton Geiszler

Rating: Mature

Chapter Summary: In the fallout of their disastrous last meeting, Hermann musters all of his determination for one final do-or-die attempt to talk some sense into Newt. But what if Newt doesn't want to be helped?

Excerpt:

Hermann hurried across the rain-slicked courtyard, shoulders hunched against the wind. Fortunately the building's lobby entry code hadn't changed, and soon enough, exhausted and chilled to the bone, he was able to darken Newt’s doorstep once more.  He jabbed the buzzer before he could lose his nerve, and listened for the digital chime from within.  In the silence that followed, he tried to centre himself with some square breathing. Four in. Hold for four. Four out. Hold for four.  His heart thundered in his chest, but he focused particularly on the small, ordinary things, like the calming scent of what smelled like almond cookies coming from across the hall. The greasy takeout bag stain left on Newt’s novelty Kaiju Crossing doormat. His reflection on the keyless entry number pad.  Almond cookies. Grease stain. Number pad— just let him be home. if he's home, i can make everything alright…  But standing there in this unfamiliar hallway, in the shadow of the new Newton’s world, Hermann felt wrong. Out of place. Unwelcome. It hadn't taken long after their last encounter to deduce that Hannibal Chau was likely the benefactor behind this extravagance and luxury, which raised a troubling question: What, exactly, did Newt have to offer that warranted a deluxe condo in Deep Water Bay?  surely it can't just be that—it couldn't only be that … could it? His fingers tightened around the glass bottle neck again. Almond cookies. Grease stain. Number pad.   Just as he began to second-guess himself, the front door jerked open with a rattle.  "Oh!"  Hermann stumbled back as a short figure wearing tinted glasses stuck his head through the gap. “Well, well,” Newt whistled with a tart smile. “Look what the Kaiju dragged in.” There could be no turning back from now on. 

From The Depths | ממעמקים

Chapter 4: Black Rain

Authors: @verfalne & @piedelune

Fandom: Pacific Rim

Relationships: Hermann Gottlieb x Newton Geiszler

Rating: Mature

Chapter Summary: A series of shocking discoveries leave Hermann reeling, unsure if the man he thought he knew still existed, or ever had. Left to lick his wounds, Hermann finds unexpected comfort in old friends, and Newt has an epiphany that could change everything.

Excerpt:

Why hadn't Hermann just let him talk about the fucking kiss that day? Why had he waited until it was already too late?! Why couldn’t he have just spit it out!?  but what about me?! He was sure Hermann had feelings for him. But with each day, Newt's grip on reality weakened. The headaches grew worse, the nosebleeds more common, and the craving was eating him alive— why couldn't i just fucking control myself for once?! why do I give in to every stupid fucking impulse—why didn't I fight harder?! what the fuck is wrong with me?! god, why did I do this?!  The mantra of self-hatred spiralled, tightening around his frenzied mind like a noose.  useless, stupid, fucking idiot. broken piece of shit. I'm the worst, the fucking worst, just fucking— —give up!!! Something… snapped. A fragile line somewhere deep in his psyche gave way.  It was like the floor had dropped out from beneath him, and he was falling into something vast and dark and endless, the red haze fading into emptiness.  For several glorious seconds, Newton Geiszler felt absolutely nothing at all. His racing heart slowed.  In the quiet of that bottomless void, he heard something—or felt it.  Not a voice, but an idea.  A whisper.  A push. And as soon as he accepted it, the pain inside his head receded, peeling away like the tide pulling from the shore. The relief was immediate. Consuming. It washed through him in a cool wave, leaving behind a strange, heavy stillness.  “…Oh,” he gently sighed. 

2020 / 2025

"You'll forget me, but the memories themselves will never go away."