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lordsireno · 8 months

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Fic WIP - Take me with You

Okay random decision but I'mah upload my unfinished fics here for people to enjoy/steal/complain about them not being finished.

First up: AU where after an attack on an Organon supply tower, a small Argus finds himself in Kuvaq meeting another child who looks just like him.

---------------

“Blasted Deponians…” Ulysses stumbled as the station shook again, “Where are they sourcing this equipment?”

He turned down another hall, finding his first path now on fire. The squad of Organon were close on his heels, though one was lagging.

“Pace up Nine-o-nine! And don’t you dare drop him!”

Said soldier hoisted the child in his arms higher, leaning back to keep his balance as he ran to catch up. Their stop here had only been to restock as they traveled from the cloning facility back to Portafisco, but now- Ulysses looked back at only for a moment to make sure Prototype A was secure. They’d put so much time and resources into developing the new clone base type, that he really didn’t want to waste anything more. They’d reached the gangway to the cruiser, and the crew was ready to leave as soon as they were aboard-

There was a mighty groan as something below broke, and the welded metal floor gave-way. Ulysses leapt into the cruiser, turning as he watched the Organon scattered, latching onto whatever they could to save themselves from the fall. Hands occupied, and with so much momentum from running, Nine-o-nine had to jump, sailing past in one desperate move to get aboard. Ulysses reached out-

-but the Organon fell.

As did a few of the others. The Prime Controller swore as he moved further inside, only two clones making it aboard with him as the cruiser departed.

Nine-o-nine curled in on himself as he fell, twisting so he faced the sky. He was determined to follow his last order to the end. He was to protect the new clone until he was able to lead them to the final destruction on the planet-

The Deponians cheered as they watched metal and bodies hit the ground, running to the site when the dust settled.

“One, two, three- Jimbo , that's five! Your new personal best!”

“Aww, I was sure I got more of them.”

The Deponians scoured the debris, kicking the bodies of the soldiers to loot their pockets.

“Yo Thommy! Check this!”

The shaggy man stood by his lanky friend, looking upon the Organon he’d just rolled over. There in their arms was a blue-haired bundle, injured and unconscious, but on closer observation still breathing.

“It’s a kid! Junk, they really were steal’n ‘em, even from the cradle! Bastards.”

The lank man pried the arms away, collecting the child at arm's length.

“Err, what should we do with it?”

A short woman emerged from the scrap with an arm full of copper, “Bet we could sell it! Richies will buy anything these days, why not a cute tot?”

The wide fellow Jimbo shook their head, “Ain’t got time for that, we’re scrappers not merchants. Just dump it at the next town.”

Thommy nodded, “Pack it up with the rest. If we’re quick with collection, we’ll reach Kuvaq in time for a drink!”

—

Gizmo tapped his cheek, collecting his thoughts.

The scrappers had been unceremonious in handing him the injured child, muttering something about ‘stolen by Organon’ before heading into Lonzo’s bar. As any good doctor would he’d cleaned and patched the bleeding, as well as wrapped a suspected fractured leg, but finally taking time to study the boy-

He looked eerily familiar.

He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but this wasn’t the first wasteland orphan he’d cared for. Only seeing what information the child itself could provide would assist him now, and he didn’t need to wait long. Only half an hour of monitoring, and he was showing signs of rousing, shifting and peering out through squinted eyes.

And then he bolted upright.

He scanned his surrounding, tense, gripping the bed sheets tight. He shifted to move further, but flinched as his bound leg lagged behind, though he still continued to move so Gizmo chose to intervene.

“Hey now, shh, it’s okay. You’re safe here, everythings okay.”

He knelt at the bedside, offering a reassuring gaze as the boy shuffled to put his back against the wall. After scanning the room once more, he finally looked at Gizmo, letting his breathing slow.

“....where…?”

“You’re safe here. My name is Gizmo, I’m a doctor, and this is my clinic in Kuvaq.”

He waited a moment to see if he reacted to his words, but his eyes just scanned the room again. He seemed disoriented, but maybe where he was from was different. Rumors of Organon kidnappings had been around all over for years, but what such an army would want with a child was hard to guess. His blue hair was in stark contrast to his dark skin and eyes, but genetic anomalies were not unheard of, and certainly not worth being taken for.

“What’s your name?”

He met his eyes again, carefully swallowing as he returned to a calm state.

“...a… ”

“A?”

He said nothing further, instead looking over himself, poking at the bandages.

‘Memory loss? A concussion perhaps?’

He went on alert as Gizmo stood, but thankfully remained still as the serviceman held out his hands.

“Are you hungry?”

He cycled the storage unit, finding a few nutrition bars that he opened and offered. When he didn’t take it, Gizmo set it on the bed, and walked away, moving to sit at his desk just out of sight. As he scribbled some notes, he could hear the rustling of the wrapper.

—

After a few hours, it got very quiet.

The strange man was around the corner still, his breathing just audible, but the ruckus from the other side of the wall had died, leaving few signs of life in the area.

A shivered.

He was so used to being surrounded by others at all times, or having grand machinery working away 24/7, that the silence was deafening. He couldn’t get back to sleep like this, the stress of separation was weighing on his mind. With careful movement, he shuffled to the edge of the bed, and slipped off. The sudden weight on his left leg sent fire shooting through him, but he held his tongue as he was expected to, waiting out the pain. Then using whatever support was there, he hobbled around the corner, and out what he guessed was the front door, finding himself in a dim cavern, with moonlight illuminating one end. Outside of this, he could finally see where he was, the cobbled form of a Deponian settlement built into the hole below.

Scanning the sky, he couldn’t see the monorail from here, so he couldn’t estimate how far he’d been taken. All settlements were under Organon authority though, so sooner or later a patrol would come by and he could go back to the Prime Controller.

For now, he would bide his time until he could move around better, perhaps see what information he could get from them. He nodded to himself, reassuring his idea. It would be his own private investigation. He would be like a spy, just like in those radio shows. He’d have to get himself a weapon too, just in case.

With renewed purpose, he shuffled back to the clinic, climbing back into bed to formulate his plan.

—

It was breakfast when there came a knock at the clinic door. Gizmo had hoped it was the scrappers, looking to say more about his new patient, but instead it was his most common visitor.

"I want'n'd beans!"

Landgull sighed, clipping the back of the child's head, "And in his efforts, he did that."

Gizmo knelt before Rufus, turning the boy's hands in his own, finding that while numerous, the cuts weren't deep. How he’d done this with a single can was a marvel.

"We'll get those patched up right away."

He moved to the storage unit, though the Mayor sidled up beside him to start a conversation-

Which made Rufus feel left out. Usually Gizmo would pick him up and put him on the bed, fixing his owchies before (or while) his Dad talked about boring stuff.

Licking the blood drips for now, he went over to the bed by himself, finding someone else had taken his spot! No wonder Gizmo had skipped the usual routine, but that wasn't good enough for Rufus. He could see there was still plenty of space up there, and at the head of the bed-

Blue, like the sky as it was becoming dark.

He reached out for the colour, only to have a hand snap around his wrist. The owner of the blue was facing him now, staring hard into his eyes. He seemed frozen for a moment, before he noticed the blood and let go, wiping his hand off. Now unhindered, Rufus clambered up beside the new person, whose face looked kinda familiar. They shifted away, but also looked him over, seeming confused.

“‘m Rufus.” He pointed to himself, smiling.

The other boy hesitated, blinking a few times.

“Wats yours?”

He carefully opened his mouth, “....A…”

His brows knitted, “Ah-ey? That’s not a name. My name is Rufus. Ruuu. Fussss. And your name iiiiis?”

He stared harder, giving a quick glance to the adults, before sitting up taller.

“…Argus.”

Rufus took his hand and shook it, “What a boring name. Hey, why do you look like that?”

The slick blood made it easy to pull from his grip, “Like… what?”

“Like…” He gestured forward, then grabbed at his own cheeks, realising, “Me?”

Argus tilted his head, “You… don’t know?”

“Rufus!” Said boy flinched at the shout, turning back toward his Father, “What have I told you about sitting still and not harassing others?”

Gizmo put a hand on Landgull’s shoulder, “It’s fine. I was actually hoping to introduce you both. This boy was handed in by some scrappers last night, and I wanted to ask your thoughts.”

As the doctor moved to bandage Rufus’ arms, Landgull scrutinised the child, who squared their shoulders in response.

“Hmm…Is the resemblance your query?”

“Uncanny, isn’t it? I don’t mean to speculate, but with the circumstances-”

“You think they may be related.” He stroked his beard, “Twins potentially?”

Rufus’ face lit up, and he wriggled from Gizmo’s hold to wrap himself around his doppelganger.

“Me and Argy could be twinnies?!”

“Argy?” Gizmo question.

The blue-haired boy didn’t say anything, simply testing how tight he’d been grabbed.

“Well, regardless of the situation he’ll need to be homed somewhere-”

“OH! ME! He can stay with me!” Rufus threw up an arm, then caught sight of Landgulls’ stare, “Please Dad? Come ooooon! Please please pleaaaase!”

“The orphanage has plenty of beds.” Landgull said.

“Noooooo!!”

“In his current state I don’t think he should be left unsupervised…” Gizmo reasoned.

Rufus squeezed harder, though Landgull still easily pried his arms away, picking him up and dumping him aside on the floor. He moved to clinging to his pant leg, droning a continuous ‘no’. Ignoring him, Landgull returned to the new child, still considering.

“Do you know how to follow instructions boy?”

He nodded.

“Do you understand you would be sharing half of everything with him?”

They both glanced at Rufus. Another nod.

“Do you understand you will have to earn your keep? That you will not be awarded any special privileges for being in my care?”

Gizmo grimaced, always off put by the Mayor's harsh nature, “Is this really necessary-?”

“Will you be well behaved, quiet, and follow orders?”

The boy sat as tall as he could, matching that stern stare.

“Yes, Sir.”

—

Argus was at a loss.

All his late night planning had gone out the window with one encounter giving him too many new variables and uncertainties.

One. There was nothing else that Rufus could be other than a clone. Almost certainly a prototype like himself. But why was he out here in some Deponian town? Was he some sleeper agent? Spy? …misplaced?

Two. He'd given Rufus his name. Why? Almost no one used his given name. Yes it was more practical for civilian situations, but he just never thought to use it. Was it because he’d been given the other clone's name?

Three. This Landgull reminded him all too much of Ulysses. It would make him easy to please, but left uncertainty in how he could react to things. He'd have to watch himself.

Coiled in Gizmo’s hold, he watched the two who he would be spending his time with. Rufus was talking away, clearly ignored, while the Mayor stared ahead. While waiting for a patrol to come by was still his best bet at leaving the settlement, his housing and care while injured would potentially hinder him from making contact.

////

“Do you like it here?”

Rufus looked up, tilting his head.

“Well I mean, my dad’s the mayor, and mum makes really nice food."

“But do you actually like living here? In this junk heap?”

Rufus paused at that, pensively looking out, fiddling with his hands.

Argus tried to collect his words, “What... What if I said... That I could get rid of this whole place. Get rid of all of Deponia, while we sit and watch up on Elysium.”

His eyes quickly lit up, “Like, the Elysium up in the sky?”

“Yeah. Think about it. No more time-out cage. No more being forgotten at meal time. No more being ordered around. No wondering when you’ll finally die. Just days of paradise far away from here.”

Rufus leant in closer, resting his head on Argus’ shoulder as he grinned up at him.

“And we can hang out all the time?”

Argus looked away, but rested his own head atop of Rufus’.

“Every day.”

“Sounds fun! Let’s do it.”

“I’ll get everything ready. You just have to wait for me Rufus.”

…

The pain in his leg was negligible at this point, meaning Argus found himself able to finally end his mission here.

Thanks to Rufus’ knowledge and a few long, pointy tools from his stash, breaking into the Mayor's office was simple. From there Rufus helped him clamber up onto the desk and access the communicator. The operator didn’t seem to care that someone other than the Mayor was using it, and swiftly transferred him to the Organon communications hub, where a few memorised access codes and a succinct report were passed on for the Prime Controller.

Now all he had to do was wait.

In the meantime, they played more Junk Knights, battling a ferocious griffon to claim the treasure from its nest.

#Deponia #Deponia Fic WIP #Deponia Argus #Deponia Rufus #Deponia Gizmo #MonkeyWrites #Fan Fiction #NotFic #unfinished

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ladynearthelake · 1 year

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Untitled Pacific Rim Fic

In the spirit of fic amnesty, I decided to post a work in progress from like three years ago that I still think about sometimes, but have no motivation to work on any more.

This was inspired by @skull-bearer ‘s Avengers AU that they posted both here and on AO3. Here’s the link for the curious! I still go back and read it sometimes when I need that Newmann love in my life.

Please enjoy this loose collection of scenes that deserved to see the light of day! It’s just over 6k with some violence and some swearing. Very much not beta read, so apologies for any spelling and grammar errors.

~~~

Newt stretches his arms above his head as he pushes back from his desk. It’s been quiet in the lab tonight, and he’s spent most of the day convincing himself that he’s going to cut out early. He’s reached a good stopping point for the evening. He checks his bag again before closing down his work station and heading for the door.

Newt’s needed a night to himself, and he knows exactly how he’s going to spend it. He pulls his well-worn hoodie on, carefully avoiding the very large goons that his benefactor employs. Most of Hannibal Chau’s organization knows that Newt’s not to be messed with, but that doesn’t stop Newt from treading lightly. At least, he does when he remembers to keep his big, obnoxious mouth shut.

Work in the city had been impossible to find when Newt first arrived. He’d accumulated an upsetting amount of debt in his undergrad and was looking at even more for his doctorate program. The money problem seemed insurmountable, until he stumbled into Hannibal Chau’s orbit. Newt can’t even remember how it happened exactly. One day he was in a coffee shop, close to tears about trying to find work that could cover all his bills and expenses, and then suddenly the most powerful mobster in town was laying an arm across his shoulders and offering him the moon.

It was the stupidest decision he’d ever made. Newt had been a bit of a shining star throughout his academic career. Chau was the type of person that followed those developments. He wanted access to Newt’s brain, and Newt handed it over. There was less and less time for school. Most of his time was spent in the lab or picking up bartending shifts at Chau’s various clubs on his off nights.

He was in the lab the first time he heard Chau rail on about the new hero in town. That was all it took for Newt to spiral into an evening of shaky YouTube videos and eye witness accounts on Reddit forums. He kept his own tiny studio apartment that was a fair distance away from Chau’s operation, and there he started to accumulate data. Newt wanted to know everything about the new guy in town that was ballsy enough to stand up to his boss. Some nights, after he got home entirely too late, he’d climb onto the fire escape and just watch the skyline, hoping for a glimpse of the hero. He’d fantasize about pulling on a mask himself and messing with Chau’s operations.

Tonight, Newt’s going to stake out the neighborhood with the most sightings and try to get a glimpse. He’s had a few other times where he’s tried, but he has a good feeling about tonight.

The neighborhood isn’t great, but Newt puts up his hood and sticks close to the well-lit streets. He knows how to make himself small and non-threatening. He can be invisible if he needs to be.

Briefly, the very stupid idea of getting himself into trouble flits across his mind, but Newt decides against it. Being in Chau’s organization, he’s taken his share of beatings. It’s never fun, and the recovery interferes with getting his work done. When Chau sets a deadline, he didn’t allow for delays.

Newt tries to not think about his boss any more than he absolutely has to. He finds it depressing.

The city is eerily quiet as Newt wanders. He fantasizes about what he’ll do if he runs into the hero. Newt’s only seen blurry photos posted on the various forums that he’d been haunting, but he was able to compile an approximation in his mind. That approximation also happened to be pretty cute. He couldn’t help himself. His situation being what it was, Newt lets himself fantasize about a handsome hero carrying him away from it all.

With a heavy sigh, Newt glances down the alley he happens to be passing. An impossible flicker of light caught his eye before a moving van flies towards the opening. Newt stares dumbly at the vehicle, unable to scream or move. Another light flashes in front of him, and the bumper of the car smashes into a golden wall that appears to protect him. Newt watches the van crash against it and then flip over his head into the empty street.

Finding himself able to breathe again, Newt looks from the van and back into the alley. The light from the barrier retreats into the darkened shadows as he takes off in a dead sprint, fumbling with his phone as he runs. He doesn’t think as he hurls himself further into danger, but he skips to a stop beside a large dumpster. His eyes can barely understand what he’s seeing.

The hero is awash in golden light. They hover above the ground as they artfully dodge between the goons in very familiar colors.

Newt presses back against the dumpster, his phone forgotten in his hand. He sneaks a glance around the side of his hiding spot as an errant goon is thrown his way. He pretends that he doesn’t recognize the unconscious body laying prone before him as he takes in the sight before him. From this angle, Newt can see the hero’s eyes. The golden light reflects against chocolate brown eyes, and Newt’s heart stutters in his chest.

He’s so distracted, Newt doesn’t realize his dumpster is being surrounded by the light and chucked to the opposite end of the alley, stopping two other goons from escaping. The hero doesn’t see him, but blazes after the others.

Newt should leave, but he can’t help but stay to watch. The hero’s movements are fluid and powerful. They use their light to dispatch the last two fleeing men, and Newt can’t help the smile that pulls across his face. He wants to run up and ask a thousand questions, but he’s already overstayed his welcome. He turns to go but finds that his body won’t move. He’s warm all of a sudden, and he’s being spun around. Soon, he’s hovering at eye level with the hero who has a hand cocked back and ready to attack.

Newt blinks stupidly.

‘Oh, forgive me.’ The hero says with a muffled British accent. Their eyes turn apologetic before the light recedes and Newt is set back on his feet. ‘Sorry about the van. No part of the it hit you, did it?’

Newt feels the brown eyes scan over his body as he shakes his head. He can’t find words in the moment. He’s slipped in the hero’s eyes and can’t seem to pull himself out. Beneath the hood, Newt notes the wisps of dark hair across their forehead. They’re taller than Newt too, even though that isn’t any great feat. They’re floating, but if their feet were touching the ground, they would still have a few inches on Newt.

An awkward moment hangs between the them before the hero clears their throat behind their scarf. Newt finally pulls himself out of his stupor.

‘Shit, sorry.’ He rubs the back of his head and nervously laughs. ‘Got a little...um...jammed up there. And no! The van didn’t hit me, so thanks for that.’

‘I should be a bit more careful about where I toss my toys.’

Their accent is slowly melting Newt’s insides. He wonders how inappropriate it would be to throw himself into a super powered stranger’s arms and smooch until they both forget about literally anything else.

‘Yeah...I think the pedestrians around here would appreciate that.’

Sirens start to grow louder as Newt tries to school his face into anything but panic.

‘Oh dear.’ The hero says. ‘We can’t have them finding you here among these miscreants, can we?’ They slap their hands together and their upper body radiates with the golden light. Newt barely has a second to marvel at it up close before the hero scoops him up. They fly straight up and then hover for a moment before a proper landing area is selected. The sirens fade into the night as the hero lightly lands in a small park.

‘Apologies.’ They say as they set Newt back on his feet.

Newt’s hands have curled into fists and tucked themselves under his chin during the short flight. He is sure his eyes are wide with wonder. He could swear he saw a hint of amusement in the hero’s eyes.

‘No worries, dude.’ Newt says, trying not to sound as breathless as he feels. He smooths his hands down the front of this jacket and sticks them in his pockets. He doesn’t need them for anymore fangirling poses. ‘Uh, thanks for getting me out of there.’

‘The least I could do after nearly crushing you with a van full of stolen goods.’

Newt’s sure the hero winks at him before they turn and fly off. He stands there for a moment longer before realizing he didn’t ask for a name or anything. He reaches for his cell phone so he can figure out where he is, but comes up with empty pockets and a stab of fear in his chest. Did he drop it in the alley? Or did it fall out during their flight?

‘Shit.’ Newt kicks at the grass and starts walking in a random direction. Most of his stuff was backed up, but he doesn’t like the idea of anyone knowing he had an interaction with the hero. He isn’t too keen on that information getting back to Chau. His boss is volatile enough as it is.

Thoughts of his phone with the very obviously him cracked screen and Godzilla case keep Newton up all night. He finds his way home and manages to keep the panic tamped down until he is in his bed with the broken springs. He tries not to think about how Hannibal has informants in the police. He’s pretty sure he didn’t actually record anything during the encounter, but if anything is on the phone it could be bad.

When he walks into the warehouse the next morning, everything seems fine. Newt makes his way over to his little corner of the universe and settles in for another long day. There is a bit of tension in the air, but that has been the norm in Chau’s properties since the hero appeared a few months back. Chau has the biggest operation in town. He is into everything a criminal could think to make their way in. Anything the hero busts up directly affects Chau’s bottom line.

About halfway through the day, Chau bursts into the warehouse. Newt tries to duck behind his computer monitors. A few of his goons scurry in after him, and even with his headphones in, Newt can tell they are discussing the bust from last night. He turns off his music but leaves his headphones in. He wants to hear what they have to say...

Newt’s headphones are ripped out of his ears and a massive hand grabs his chin. His body slams against the wall beside his work station. Chau forces his jaw upwards.

‘Somethin’ funny, Geiszler?’

Newt’s eyes betray how terrified he is. Chau usually reserves his fury for the muscle. He’s raised his voice to Newt before, sure. He’s even screamed, but he’s never violently touched him. He swallows the sarcastic reply of your men’s complete incompetence in the face of the hero and just stares at his boss.

Chau snarls and pulls Newt away from the wall. ‘I just asked you a question.’ He states before slamming Newt back again. His head hits hard, and he sees stars for a moment.

‘N-no, sir.’ He manages to reply.

‘You’re worse than these idiots, you know that?’ Chau’s voice is low and dangerous. His breath smells of too many cigars. ‘You’re supposed to be the brains around here. Build them something that they can use against that hero fuck.’

Newt doesn’t bother to tell Chau that his grad work had been in biology. He has tinkered with machines, but he’s pretty sure he can’t build a weapon to take out someone with supernatural powers.

‘Didn’t Geiszler run into that do-gooder once?’ A voice calls from the other side of the lab. Newt has never been in the good graces of the Chau’s goons. They think he’s coddled. To an extent, they’re right. It’s Fang, the bald woman who would kill without a thought for Chau.

Hannibal misses the glare that Newt throws at her as he looks back towards the voice. When the mobster turns back to Newt, he smiles cruelly.

‘Is that so?’

Newt swallows with effort around Hannibal’s steel grip. ‘It was just once. They....I didn’t get a good look. It was late, and they weren’t close.’

‘What did you see?’ Chau demands. ‘You must have seem something.’

‘I didn’t get that close.’ Newt lies, remembering the sensation of gliding through the air in the hero’s strong arms. ‘They may have been a guy. I don’t want to make any assumptions, but--’

Chau rolls his eyes before turning the other gathered in the room. ‘Give us some space.’

Newt watches the pleased looks on the thugs as they leave the lab. Each of them assumes Newt’s in for the beating of a life time. Newt’s pretty sure they’re right. He flinches when Chau turns back to him, but instead of violence, Newt’s released from Chau’s grasp. His knees wobble, but Newt manages to catch himself before he can slide down the wall.

‘Tell me the truth ‘cause I’ll know if you’re lying.’ Hannibal starts. ‘You go looking for that asshole?’

Keenly aware of Chau’s ability to discern lies from fact and not wanting to push his luck, Newton nods. ‘I...um....I find them fascinating. From a purely biological stand point. I’ve never seen anything like it. I didn’t think--’

‘I don’t need the full dissertation, kid.’ Chau straightens Newt’s shirt collar as he talks and then pats his cheek. ‘You were able to find him.’

Newt nods again.

Chau steps back from Newt and rights the chair Newt had been sitting in before Chau lost it. He places a hand on Newt’s shoulder and gently eases him into the chair. Newt tries to look back at him, but Chau’s other hand comes to a rest on his opposite shoulder. Newt stares ahead at his computer screen.

‘I know you regret taking the deal we made when you first got to town.’

Newt nervously swallows again. He isn’t sure where this is going.

‘So, let me give you an out.’

Newt stills. He isn’t sure that he’s heard correctly.

‘You find me a way to take this asshole down, and I’ll let you out of the deal.’

Newt licks his lips before he can find his voice. ‘What?’

‘Don’t make me change my mind, kid. This guy is fucking with my profits, and I’m getting desperate. Losing you’d be a real kick in the nuts, but if I can use that big brain of yours to take this guy down, then so be it.’

There are tears fighting to roll down Newt’s cheeks as he considers what this would mean. He’d get to go back to grad school. He could finish his degree and get a proper job. He could travel back home to see his father and his uncle. He could live his life as he wanted.

As much as this is everything Newt could want, a small voice dissents in the back of his mind. Chau is a mobster. He can’t be trusted. Newt could deliver the hero to Chau on a silver platter, and Chau could still decide that Newt is his.

He remembers the nights on his fire escape, hoping for a glance of the hero that’s trying to make this city a better place.

If he doesn’t take the deal, Newt is sure that Chau will just make his life a living hell anyway. The fact that he’s even offering something like this is insane. Chau won’t offer it again, and next time he asks, it won’t be so nicely. There really isn’t a choice, is there?

‘Yeah...’ Newt hears his voice answer. ‘Yeah. You’ve got a deal.’

Hermann manages to get through the day despite the soreness in his hip and his back. He has been pushing too hard during his evening excursions, and his magic can only sooth those hurts so much. The aches and pains have been catching up to him, and he considers taking an evening off in the near future.

He mulls the notion over as he takes a cab back to his flat. Can a man who has dedicated himself to protecting a city take an evening off? If something were to happen, Hermann doesn’t know that he could forgive himself. Perhaps tonight he can just do a quick patrol around the city. Just an hour or two, and then come home for an adequate night of sleep.

Though, Hermann’s restless nights aren’t all about the job. He tries to convince himself not to think about the young man with the green eyes and freckles from the other night. He’s only moderately successful. As the cab pulls up to his building, Hermann shoos the thoughts from his head. He decides to makes his rounds quickly and without distraction.

Hermann pays the driver and makes his way upstairs. The elevator ride is slow and tedious, and the doors open sluggishly when he reaches his floor. Being inside is stifling. He wants to fly.

After a quick dinner, Hermann takes a half dose of his medication for the pain in his hip. It will help, but he’ll still be sharp. A fair trade off. In the privacy of his home, Hermann isn’t afraid to use his magic to brace his leg. If the blinds are closed, which they usually are, he’ll even float across the floor. Tonight, he strolls into his study and pulls the false bookcase on the far wall open. He admires his costume, simple and light with a hood and a scarf that covers the lower half of his face. It hid his blush well the other night.

And now, Hermann’s back to thinking of the easy weight of the green-eyed man in his arms and the awe on his face during their short flight to the park. His cheeks flush as he allows himself a moment to dwell before changing. He pushes the bookcase back into its locked position before walking out to his balcony. With his hood and scarf in place, Hermann regards his city. He closes his eyes and takes in the noise. A deep breath, and he pushes off, flying into the night sky.

‘To what do I owe this sudden visit, Geiszler?’ Chau asks from behind his desk. He lights up a cigar as he regards Newt with barely concealed annoyance.

Newt takes a deep breath, pushes away the last desperate rational thought in his head that’s screaming at him to get out of there, and strides up to the desk. Chau eyes him suspiciously as Newt plants his feet.

‘The deal’s off.’

For a moment, Chau isn’t sure that he heard correctly. He takes another long drag of his cigar before setting it in the ashtray on his desk. ‘Care to elaborate?’

‘With...with the hero. It’s off. I’m not doing it anymore.’

Chau wears dark glasses that make it impossible to see where he’s looking, but Newt can feel his eyes boring into him.

‘I’m sorry.’ Chau pushes back from his desk and stands from his chair. Newt tries to stand at his full height, but it doesn’t matter. Chau moves around the desk and looms over him. ‘One more time?’ He waves his hand at Newt, waiting for him to repeat what he said.

Newton clears his throat. ‘I said that I’m out. I want to go back to our original agreement.’

Chau throws his head back again and laughs. Newt shrinks back as he does, but Chau grabs his shoulder. HIs thick fingers hurt through Newt’s jacket and pin Newt in place.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.’ Chau says. ‘Oh, I haven’t laughed like that in a while. But let me get this straight. You come in here saying you want out of our deal. You’ve been around long enough to know that’s not really how things work.

‘But now I need to ask myself. Why would he want out of the deal? I thought it was a pretty solid one. I know you hate working here. You don’t hide it very well. So, knowing that, I have only one conclusion to come to.’

‘And what’s that?’ Newt asks. He’s very nervous all of a sudden, but he can’t move away. Chau’s grip is firm on his shoulder.

‘You’ve taken a shine to this hero fuck. You like him, so you figured you’d come into my office and try to do the noble thing. Which, I’ll admit, I didn’t see coming from you.’

Newt pales as Chau’s hand moves from his shoulder to his throat. His fingers tighten around Newt’s neck and pull him in close. Newt’s hands fly up to Chau’s wrist, trying and failing to get any kind of leverage.

‘But, I don’t know why you’d want out. I said I’d let you walk away if you gave me a way to take that fucker down. And you have.’ Chau smiled. ‘You walked right into my office and all but told me you both care about each other. Thanks, kid.’

Newt's eyes go wide as he realizes just how stupid he’s been. He fights to get out of Chau’s grip, but he isn’t conscious for long enough to make a difference. Chau punches him in the side of the head, and everything goes black.

Hannibal holds Newt’s unconscious form up by the front of his shirt as he rifles through his pockets. He eventually finds the cell phone he’s looking for and flips through the contacts. Newt wasn’t the most social person, so he only had a few people listed.

Finding what he assumes is the appropriate number, Chau initiates the call.

It rings several times before an angry man answers.

‘Newton, I believe I made myself very clear when I said--’

‘The kid was never one to take a hint.’ Chau interrupted. ‘No matter how clear you may have been. Trust me.’

The line goes quiet for a moment. ‘Who is this? Why do you have Newton’s phone?’

‘You’re a smart man. Do the math.’

‘If you’ve hurt him--’

‘Spare me the speech. We can discuss your little friend’s health tonight. 11pm. There’s an abandoned subway station on State between First and Second. Eleven sharp, hear me?’

A curt affirmative comes across the line before Chau hangs the phone up. He drops Newt to the floor first, followed by the cell phone. Newt starts to come to as Chau stomps down on the device.

Newt shakes his head, willing himself back to coherency. He crawls towards the door, but a heavy weight presses down on his back. Panic churns in his chest as he wriggles to get free. He feels fingers grab his hair and pull his head back.

‘We’ve got a date to get you ready for, kid.’ Chau says with a laugh.

Hermann lands with a stutter-step as he releases the aura around him. Flight has become second nature to him since he tamed his powers. He shifts focus to his hip, willing his magic to support it as he approaches the subway station entrance. The padlock has already been broken, despite Hermann being early. He floats down the stairs and holds out his hands to illuminate the gloomy space. He easily lofts over the turnstiles, making sure that his scarf and hood adequately cover his face.

In the dark, Hermann can hear bodies moving. He knows that Chau’s men are watching and following him further into the station. He takes note of their positions, and descends the staircase to the platform. The scurrying of henchmen dies down, but he can hear panicked gasping the further he floats.

The platform is dark with the exception of a few overhead lights that still function. It stinks of rot and disuse. A cold wind howls through the tunnels, chilling the dank space. Hermann takes it all in and manages to keep his composure when he sees Newton standing under one of the lights.

Standing isn’t the appropriate descriptor. As Hermann slowly approaches, he notes the large hand holding Newton up by the back of his neck. Hermann grits his teeth at the state of Newt. The left side of his face is bruised and his cheek is cut. His arms appear to be bound behind his back. He’s shaking like a leaf, either from fear or the fact that he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt and ripped jeans as the wind howls in the tunnel. His eyes are wide and terrified as he notices Hermann.

‘No no no no! You gotta get ou--!’ He manages to say before the hand at his neck snakes around to clamp over his mouth. He struggles before he’s pulled tight against the large man looming in the shadow.

Hannibal Chau steps forward, Newton securely held in one hand and a garish, gold-plated gun in the other.

‘I don’t think we need any introductions here. I know you, and you know me.’ Chau sneers. ‘So you know that I have no problem blowing him away if you don’t comply.’

Hermann says nothing, but tries to project cool confidence even though his heart is trying to jackhammer through his ribs. His eyes dart between Newt, Chau and the gun.

‘You’ve got two options.’ Chau continues. ‘You can either come work for me, or get the hell out of my city. Do either, I’ll let your little boyfriend here live.’ Newton tries to squirm away, but Chau holds him fast. ‘He'll stay with me though. He still has to work off his debt. I’m sure he told you about the deal we had. You told him, right, little guy?’ Chau taps the barrel of the gun against Newton’s cheek.

‘He’s into me for a lot of money. Advaned degrees doesn’t come cheap, but you’re some fancy rich boy, ain’t cha?’ Chau says before addressing Newton. ‘Just one other reason this whole thing would have never worked, kid.’

Chau focuses back on Hermann and presses the gun barrel hard into Newton’s temple. ‘What’s it gonna be?’

Newton opens his eyes and meets Hermann’s steel gaze. Hermann can tell he’s trying to communicate something, but he can’t tell what. As Hermann opens his mouth to reply, Newton brings his left foot up and stomps it down onto Chau’s. The larger man yelps more from surprise than pain and releases his iron hold on Newt. He curls forward as he swears. Newt takes the opportunity to slam his head back, crashing into Chau’s face.

'NOW!’ Newton shouts as he falls forward. It’s a plea to do anything.

Hermann obliges and ignites his magic as Chau snarls and grabs for Newton again. Expertly, Hermann twists his fingers and mutters an incantation to slow everyone in the room down to a crawl aside from himself. It will only last a few moments, but he uses his advantage to cross the room and pull Newton close. Hermann fires a charge from his fist towards Chau. Time flicks back to its original speed as the mobster explodes into the far wall. The weak structure collapses on top of him.

A beat passes before the henchmen begin firing their pistols at Hermann. Newt winces, waiting for the impact of the bullets. He tucks himself against Hermann’s leg as the magician bends the laws of physics to his whims. Hermann swirls the air around him and the bullets are caught up in the maelstrom. He fires them harmlessly into the ceiling before turning his focus on the henchmen.

After a moment, the only sound is the water draining from a broken pipe and the fading crackling from Hermann’s magical energy. Hermann releases the breath he’d been holding and let’s his feet hit the ground. Newt’s curled up in front of him, still bracing for an unseen impact. His eyes are squeezed shut.

Hermann looks down at him and finds that any anger he may have been holding has dissolved. He snaps his fingers and hears the clank of the handcuffs as they slip off Newt’s wrists. A gasp of relief escapes Newt’s mouth as his arms fall back to their natural position. He rubs at the raw and bruised flesh at his wrists.

Pulling off his scarf and his hood, Hermann falls to his knees in front of Newt and wraps the smaller man in his arms.

‘You’re such a fool.’ He whispers. He feels a tremor go through Newt and tightens his embrace.

‘I know.’

‘Come, now. Let me look at you.’

Newt reluctantly pulls away and meets Hermann’s eyes. The bruise on his cheek is settling into an ugly purple color with streaks of dried blood across his face. His eyes are red and exhausted. He might be the most beautiful thing Hermann’s ever seen.

‘I’m so sorry, Herms.’ He says, unable to hold eye contact. ‘I never meant for this to happen.’

‘Listen to me.’ Hermann tilts Newt’s chin back up and lightly runs his thumb over Newt’s bruised cheek. ‘We can talk about everything else later. All that matters is that you’re safe now.’

A wobbly smile passes over Newt’s lips as he curls back into Hermann’s embrace. ‘My hero.’ He whispers.

Hermann caresses the back of his head before noting the sound of police sirens on the cusp of his perception. He lets his magic flow over his upper body and easily lifts Newton into his arms.

‘Let’s get you home.’

Newt pulls away to smile and nod, but he catches a glint of light from the corner of his eye. Chau is out of the rubble and aiming his gun at Hermann’s back. Newt’s face flashes between terror and determination as he shoves Hermann away. The gun goes off a second later, and Newt feels the bullet wing his shoulder. He cries out in pain before crumpling on the ground, pressing hard as he can at the blood spurting from the wound.

Hermann stumbles as Newt pushes him. He barely gets up the bracing spell he uses for his hip before he registers what’s happened. He sees Newt fall and the blood spatter over the subway tiles. He hears Chau stalking closer, cocking the gun again and taking aim.

‘Shouldn’t have reneged on our deal, Geiszler.’ Chau says as he aims at Newt’s head.

Hermann howls with rage as he summons all his power and crushes the gun and Chau’s hand. Hermann extends his hand and tendrils of light erupt out of it. They wrap around Chau’s wrist and force the mobster’s arm violently behind his back. The light worms around Chau’s body, wrapping tightly around his neck. Hermann makes a fist, and Chau is brought to his knees, hissing at the pressure on his arm.

Newt had tensed for the killing shot, but untangles himself when it doesn’t go off. He looks over his uninjured shoulder and sees a Hermann he doesn’t recognize. Light pulses off him. He growls with rage. This is a Hermann that’s ready to kill.

Forcing himself to his feet, Newt moves behind the magician and painfully wraps his arms around his waist. Hermann’s magic singes his skin, but Newt tightens his hold.

‘This isn’t you.’ Newt whispers into Hermann’s back. ‘Please, don’t do this.’

The contact pulls Hermann back. He shakes his head and releases Chau. The mobster crumbles to the ground gasping for air and cradling his destroyed fingers to his chest. Without a word, Hermann turns in Newt’s embrace and pulls the other man tight to his chest. His shoulder wound shows no signs of slowing the bleed. Hermann quickly pulls off his scarf and wraps it tightly around Newt’s shoulder.

‘I think it went straight through. Doesn’t feel like anything important got hit’ Newt says through gritted teeth. ‘They’re going to see your face without the scarf, dude.’

Hermann regards Newt’s pale face for a moment before pulling up his hood. ‘Will you hide my face, then?’

If the blood loss is getting to Newt, he isn’t showing it. He nods once and wraps his good arm tightly around Hermann’s neck. The other, he cradles between their bodies. Hermann lets his magic flow through his arms and back before gently lifting Newt again. With a dismissive glare towards Chau, Hermann lifts off the ground and speeds out of the abandoned station. He zips past the police that are descending the static escalators. Newt tightens his grip when he hears the shouting from the officers. Hermann extends his aura, shielding them from anything the police might fire their way. He will not let his guard down again. Not if it means Newt will get hurt.

Hermann doesn’t know if Newt has a proper first aid kit at his apartment, so he decides they’ll go to his place. It’s a risk, but he feels that after tonight, he and Newt will have nothing left to hide from each other. The shorter man starts shivering again as they arc through the sky. Hermann can’t tell if it's from his light clothing or if he’s going into shock from the bullet wound. Either way, they need to get inside as soon as possible.

It could be days later when Newt wakes to find himself in an unfamiliar bed. In his apartment, he has a full-size mattress that is slowly disintegrating from the center. His sheets are scratchy and second hand. These feel like silk compared to his.

The pain in his shoulder asserts itself as Newt sits up. He’s not wearing his glasses, so he can’t make out most of the room he’s in. There seems to be a light on in the corner and either a lumpy stack of pillows or his host sitting in a chair reading beside it.

Newt’s suspicions are confirmed as he hears a book shut and a body shift out of the chair. He lets himself fall back into the sea of pillows. A slight weight presses down on the bed, and a hand brushes against his cheek.

‘You’re finally awake.’

‘Been a rough day.’ Newt paused. ‘Days? Help me out here, Herms. How long have I been out?’

‘Approximately 35 hours?’ Hermann responds. He shifts and grabs something from the nightstand. ‘May I?’

It takes Newt a second to realize Hermann probably has his glasses before he nods. He closes his eyes as Hermann slides the frames back onto his face. He feels the lingering caress of Hermann’s fingertips at his temples before he opens his eyes.

Hermann’s expression is warm as Newt gets his bearings.

‘Hi.’ Newt says, suddenly shy. He feels his cheeks redden under Hermann’s caring expression.

‘Hello.’ Hermann inches closer before continuing. ‘You slept consistently after I cleaned and sewed up your bullet wound. I took care to make sure your tattoos wouldn’t be misaligned.’

‘Shit.’ Newt touched his bad shoulder. ‘I didn’t even think of that.’

‘Good thing you have me, then, isn’t it?’

Newt flinches. ‘I’m not sure that I’m worthy of that, Herms.’ He averts his gaze and feels the prickle of tears. ‘Shit, I think the last couple days proved I’m definitely not.’

Hermann rolls his eyes and moves over the bed. He winces a bit at the pressure he puts on his bad leg, but he can endure a little discomfort.

‘Listen to me.’ Hermann starts. He runs his hand through Newt’s hair, tracing his fingers down his neck, across his throat, and under his chin. Newt’s eyes flicker up to meet Hermann’s. ‘I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry or hurt when you told me what had been asked of you. However, you did tell me. You didn’t have to say anything, but you did. Do not ever say that you are unworthy of me.’

Newt sniffles and his mouth goes all wobbly again.

Hermann smiles again before shifting to move under the covers and sit beside Newt. The smaller man leans into him, grasping at Hermann’s t-shirt and tucking his head into Hermann’s shoulder. The magician rests his cheek in Newt’s hair.

‘Does it hurt terribly?’

Newt flinches again as he shakes his head no. ‘It hurts, but it’s kind of a dull ache.’

‘Then the pain killer is working.’ Hermann says. ‘Good. Your cheek should be healed in a few days. There didn’t appear to be any broken bones when we arrived.’

Newt snuffles deeper into Hermann, his voice growing thick with exhaustion. ‘Were you a doctor or something?’

‘Before my accident, yes.’ He says as he tucks further into Newt’s hair. ‘But we have plenty of time to discuss all that. Rest now. I’ll be here when you wake.’

‘Thanks, Herms.’ Newt mutters into Hermann’s neck as he begins to fade. ‘For everything.’

Hermann smiles and presses a light kiss to Newt’s hair before snapping his fingers and turning off the reading lamp.

#pacific rim fan fiction #pacific rim #newton geiszler #hermann gottlieb #hannibal chau #newmann #super hero au #unfinished fic #fic amnesty

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