Chapter Text
Ingo woke to silence.
While this was not altogether too strange, given that Undella Town was relatively peaceful and sparsely occupied in the spring, the part that made it noteworthy was that it was the first time since Ingo had returned to his proper time and space that he could recall waking after Emmet was already up. His brother’s recently acquired insomnia meant he had a tendency to sleep through the morning, while Ingo was only just starting to be able to deviate from his clockwork schedule. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d woken up last.
He had to be concerned, for a moment. They’d gone to bed at the same time, but who could say whether Emmet had woken in the middle of the night and decided not to go back to bed? Or never fallen asleep in the first place? His unhealthy habits were worrying, and though he was doing his best to break them, they still had bad nights.
It wasn’t good to assume the worst, though. Things had gotten better lately. The vacation was helping, much to their combined chagrin and Elesa’s delight at being proven correct. Perhaps Emmet simply had woken up before him without influence.
Still, the worry that something might be wrong pushed to get him out of bed, grabbing the hoodie he’d left on the armchair the night prior as he headed out into the dining area. It may have been nearing summer, but the wind off the ocean was still brisk. Particularly in the mornings before the sun had a chance to warm the air, the night chill lingering after providing ample opportunities to light the campfires that Emmet had gained a fascination with.
There was a muffled clatter from the kitchen, and Ingo braced himself for whatever he might find upon entering.
A gesture which turned out to be completely unnecessary as Emmet looked over from his spot at the counter to give Ingo a smile. (A genuine one, not the strained one he sometimes wore when he was trying to be reassuring.) He looked well-rested, and Ingo was hardly surprised at how relieved that fact made him.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Emmet said. “Did I wake you?”
“No, actually, I didn’t even notice you were up. You could have woken me, though.”
Emmet hummed, then shook his head. “You looked peaceful. It was nice. I didn’t want to bother you. Coffee?”
“Please,” Ingo said, stepping over to wrap an arm around Emmet and set his head against his shoulder. Emmet briefly leaned to the side to bump their heads together before resuming his task of preparing the aforementioned coffee. “Did you sleep alright?”
“Yup! A smooth ride between stations. No delays to the schedule.” The coffee machine started burbling, and Emmet turned to pull Ingo into a proper hug. “And you?”
“Likewise. I am operating in peak condition, and firing on all cylinders.”
Peering over Emmet’s shoulder, Ingo tapped at his Xtransceiver to do his customary morning check-in. If any problems had arisen at Gear Station overnight, he’d be informed and either delegate a solution or-- in the event of a serious emergency-- start making plans to go back to Nimbasa. Assuming there were no problems, the Depot Agents were under instruction not to contact him again for the rest of the day until his nightly check-in before they went to bed. They were also under instruction not to contact Emmet under any conditions.
Indicative of their employees’ aptitude, though, there were no messages waiting when Ingo opened his inbox. The same as every other morning when he’d checked it. While there was the possibility they were just getting Elesa to handle problems and not telling the twins when they happened, it was far more likely that there were simply no problems to handle.
“Any news?” Emmet asked.
“None to speak of,” he replied, switching the device off and resting his head against Emmet’s with a sigh. “It seems Elesa was right.”
“Hate that. You worry too much, it’ll be fine,” Emmet said, pitching his voice up in a completely inaccurate mockery of Elesa’s encouragement when they’d brought up the idea of a vacation. “You hired those agents personally, they can handle anything. Proving her right. She’s going to be verrry annoying about it.”
“Hopefully by the time we return she’ll have forgotten about it.”
“I am Emmet. I don’t see that happening any time soon. Elesa will hold things against us for years and you know it.”
Ingo laughed softly. “You have a point.”
A soft ding signaled the completion of their drinks. Emmet simply poured himself a mug and took a scalding sip, but Ingo took the time to add an amount of cream and sugar that made Emmet cringe. He could drink coffee black just fine (and had done so for most of his time in Hisui), but he far preferred it with as many additions as he could feasibly include. The warmth of the drink, as well as the sugar and caffeine, helped ward off the crispness of the early morning.
Emmet settled by the open window with a sigh, eyes closed and mug clasped in both hands. Ingo sidled up next to him.
“Thinking very hard?”
“Nope,” Emmet said, grinning. “It’s great.”
“After spending so long in turmoil, I imagine it must be.”
“Imagine. Are you thinking?”
“I find it difficult to quiet my mind on the best of days,” Ingo admitted. He was doing better, that much was true. Far less of his time was spent worrying. But worry wasn’t the only thing that sent his thoughts barreling down a twisting network of tracks. “It’s alright. It’s nothing bad.”
“It shouldn’t be anything at all. That is the point of this. To not have to think about things for a little while.” Ingo could see the internal dialogue playing out in the minute shifts of his expression, though he wasn’t privy to the contents, and after a moment Emmet smiled and grabbed his wrist. “Okay. Come with me.”
Ingo let himself be led along, careful not to spill his drink as Emmet headed for the porch out the side door. The villa they’d rented (Cynthia’s-- or rather, Caitlin’s-- was offered to them, but they both agreed they’d prefer one that wasn’t right in the center of town) faced the street, but had a side deck that offered a fine view of the ocean. In a feat of dexterity Ingo was sure he wouldn’t have been able to repeat, Emmet managed to drag two chairs over to the edge of it, all without letting go of Ingo or his mug. When prompted, Ingo sat down, and Emmet took the seat next to him.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the change of scenery,” he said, “but I fail to see how this will change much of anything. I can still overthink while sitting outside.”
“Don’t be difficult,” Emmet scolded. “Quiet. Listen.”
“I still don’t think--”
“You do think! And that is the problem. But it’s alright. I will help.” Emmet set his mug down on the railing, then turned to Ingo and clapped both hands on either side of his face. His sputtered offense was soundly ignored. “We are very different. I am Emmet. I think in the present. I care about what is. Not what will be. You are Ingo. You think about the future. You are preoccupied by what might be. And you do not worry so much about what is happening now. These are both good. But too much of either is not. I think about what is true now, and I am not good at planning ahead. You idealize what will be, but you miss what is happening right in front of you.”
Like his earlier annoyance, his mumbled “I’m very attentive, thank you,” was equally ignored as Emmet continued speaking. (He griped, but Ingo wasn’t about to interrupt his brother with any seriousness. Rarely did Emmet talk this much, particularly all at once. Far be it from Ingo to cut him off.)
“This is part of why we work well together. We are a two-car train. I think about the present, and you think about the future. But still, we are individuals. And we were separated. So we did not have that balance. I have learned to think forward. You learned to exist in the present. But you learned this because you were in danger. It was not healthy. Now, you cannot live in the moment without feeling like you are in danger. Because you were for so long. Right?”
That… sounded correct, now that he thought about it. It was true that Ingo had a penchant for daydreaming, wondering about future possibilities and potential. But in Hisui, zoning out was a surefire way to get yourself into a heap of trouble. Practically asking for an Alpha to sneak up on you. Ingo had to set aside his absentmindedness and instead pay attention to where he was. Because if he didn’t, he would put himself at risk.
…Had he ever stopped thinking like that?
“Right,” he said, quietly. “I have heard no falsehoods so far.”
“I am Emmet. I do not lie.” He let go of Ingo’s face to instead set his hands over Ingo’s own, lacing their fingers together. “It’s okay. You are safe here. We are safe here. I will not let anything happen to us. We are both here, and we are okay. You can hear my voice. You can hear the sea. Focus on that. Do not worry about things you can’t change. Do not worry about things that haven’t happened yet.”
Easier said than done, but with Emmet’s hold to ground him, Ingo was able to eventually disembark his speeding train of thought. He took a deep breath, then another, and before long his mind went quiet and the only sound was the distant crashing of waves against the shore and Emmet’s soft speech.
“It does not matter what will happen in the future,” Emmet said, very quiet, but Ingo heard it like a Roar. “Because whatever comes to pass, we will face it together.”
They were a two-car train. Their combination was the best. As they always said.
“Thank you, Emmet,” he said, leaning forward to bump his forehead against his twin’s. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He stayed there for a moment, then leaned back and raised one hand to lightly smack Ingo’s head, heedless of his startled protest. “Now be quiet! We are on vacation. We are enjoying the scenery. Stop talking and relax.”
“Whatever you say,” he mused, leaning back in the chair.
“What I do. What I say. Always the same,” Emmet said with a self-satisfied smile, “And I am always right.”
Hard to argue with that.
Emmet settled into his own seat, sighing happily as he sipped his (no doubt lukewarm at this point) coffee and fidgeted with Ingo’s hand. He was at his best when he had something to do, and Undella Town in the off-season was not exactly the ideal place for a person like that. But Emmet had been doing a remarkable job at keeping himself occupied. There was no shortage of trainers milling around the bay, and many of them could even be convinced to partake in a double or multi battle with enough urging. They were on vacation, yes, but battling wasn’t just their jobs. It was part of their lifestyle. Not something they needed a break from.
Although, Ingo had to admit-- it was nice not having to be so particular about his strategy. Don’t get him wrong, he liked serious battles as much as the next person, but every trainer who challenged the Battle Subway did so with intent to win. It wasn’t so much a casual scuffle as it was a competitive brawl. One had to be particular with the moves they selected, the items they utilized. It was relaxing, not having to put so much thought into it.
He wouldn’t want it to last forever, though. Eventually it would grow tiresome, not having to think about his battles. He’d want for the challenge the Subway brought. And when both he and Emmet grew weary of the quiet, when they both decided they were ready, they’d return. Better than ever.
“I can tell you’re thinking,” Emmet said, his voice a sing-song. “Remember what I said. Don’t worry about the future.”
“Oh, be quiet, you smug bastard,” he muttered, and Emmet laughed, bright and clear and real.
Eventually, they would need to return. For now, though, their dwell time was indefinite.
Ingo closed his eyes. Just for a moment.
The breeze carried with it the faint scent of salt, the distant sound of Pokémon calls, and a feeling of calm that swept over them like a Heal Pulse. Emmet was at his side, warm and undeniable, one hand locked with Ingo’s own. There were no battles to fight. There was nothing to worry about.
And he was at peace.