#k-scientists

Hermann huffed, perhaps a bit melodramatically, turning his own attention to the distant shoreline, too far for his naked eye to determine any differences between tree and shrub. Had you told him four months ago that the Hermann Gottlieb- cynic, skeptic, man of logic and reason and fact- would willingly be cramped into a tiny boat in the middle of a Michigan lake during a bitterly cold spring day trying to spot a bloody Bigfoot with his on-again, off-again worst enemy-  Well, frankly, he would have laughed at you.

And yet that was exactly what he was doing, much to his bafflement."I still cannot understand why you insisted we waste our entire weekend on this. Or, why I agreed for that matter." He couldn't be certain without looking, but he would swear Newton was laughing to himself. "Bragging rights maybe? I dunno dude, but if you're right, I'll let you hold it against me for... Four weeks? ...Maybe five." Hm. That was tempting. Unfortunately, most points of contention that he had taken against the man had- Well, Newton may be a hurricane of restless energy and too little caution, but he was often correct. But the existence of an alleged cryptid? That was pure nonsense. Aliens, however- unlike all the bloody ghouls and gremlins and gargantuan tall tales Newton obsessed over- Aliens could exist. The Universe was, after all, such a vast Unknown. And that didn't even account for the dimensions beyond the- "And you needed a break. I know your dad's been driving you nuts." Hermann's thoughts cut short, attention fully stolen by the man to his right. Newton was still staring at the distant shore, seemingly unshaken by the revelation. He had spoken so casually, was so unflinchingly blunt, yet Hermann was left careening into a tailspin. It was that- That bloody glimpse of sentiment this ridiculous man seemed prone to dropping unexpectedly. Simple observations and gestures of instinctual care that revealed just how much of himself was Known. Newton had been doing it more and more often lately; he read Hermann so well sometimes that he was beginning to fear that the confounded man had somehow perfected telepathy with all the scrap metal he kept in the basement. And what was more alarming- The observation was completely true. Lars had been pressuring him, insisting- demanding- that Hermann return to Germany this summer, to finally- Well, it didn't matter. That wasn't the life Hermann wanted, never truly had. And despite knowing his own feelings on the matter, he decided to take the opportunity confide in Newton, who- apart from Vanessa- truly did know Hermann best. "He is adamant that I return home. Wants me to take my proper place in the family." For the first time in the past half-hour, Newton properly lowered his binoculars, turning to Hermann with a baleful look. He studied him for a moment- an excruciating moment where the usual rambunctiousness was cast aside in favor of steely observation- before his eyes narrowed. "I love you man, so please don't take this the wrong way, but fuck that guy." Hermann was startled into a bark of laughter; the vitriol in Newton's voice, the anger on Hermann's behalf- It was a rare moment of finding true common ground, especially in a relationship as convoluted and complex as theirs. And Newton making threats was- It brought to mind the few kittens he had kept as a child, full of spite and such a blatant disregard for one’s own smallness that they truly believed they could intimidate. The image only made his laughter peal slightly louder, ridiculous and improper as it was. Newton, for his part, seemed completely perplexed by Hermann's reaction, features pushing and pulling as if unsure what to do with themselves, before finally settling into something like a warm smile, eyes narrowed slightly in fond bemusement, unable to completely resist laughing along. "It really wasn't meant to be funny, but it's good to hear you laughin' again." Hermann finally caught control of himself, waving off the comment. "No, no. I-" He snickered again, before turning with a grin. "You gave voice to my exact sentiments. 'Fuck that guy,' indeed." "So..." Newton trailed off, frowning as he tried to work something out, his next words coming out a little unsure, a midge timid. "You're not going back to gut alt Deutschland then?" Hermann winced at the pronunciation, but shook his head in confirmation. "Not for some time, at least. I-" He frowned, unsure if he should reveal too much of the matter, but this was Newton after all. If he couldn't confide in- well- then who could he ever trust? "I've grown quite fond of the people I've met here and the life I’ve built. I can't imagine cutting that short for Lars. No matter what his beliefs may be regarding my alleged ‘responsibility.’" Newton was offering some sort of awed and adoring look, still tempered by warm amusement. "Wow, I've been a bad influence on you. This is- I'm still talking to Hermann right?" "Sod off," Hermann tried not to chuckle at Newton's light teasing. "I'm the same as I've always been, you menace." "I mean, you've always had the potential Herms; no one's arguing that. Trust me; I know it's always been there. Just...” Newton’s head tilted slightly, eyebrows furrowing once more, his every thought once again clearly carved across his features. Hermann was grateful for it, some days. Some days, he almost envied it. Newton finally found his traction once again, expression softening and words taking on a tone akin to relieved. “ You didn’t used to be so.." He gestured emphatically at Hermann's whole self, ending with a rather dramatic shrug. "...obvious about it. Looks good on you."

Hermann hummed in a detached sense of agreement. He had become more... outgoing in recent weeks. Perhaps being surrounded by so many people who were unapologetically themselves was beginning to influence him.

Some small part of him- one that was still desperate for his father's approval, one that still preferred standing away from the crowd, one that preferred taking up as small and insignificant a space as possible until he was needed- was appalled at the revelation. Appalled by his behavior, appalled by his vocality, appalled especially in the liberties he had even begun taking with his wardrobe. The Hermann who had arrived Stateside nine months ago as a guest lecturer in an American university was leagues away from the Hermann freezing his arse off in a rented pontoon boat sharing drugstore coffee with the man who quite literally embodied the phrase "chaos incarnate." He found he much preferred the newer model.