Chapter Text
There had been a disturbance on their Subway. Of course, this was far from the first time that this had happened, and it was not going to be the last. Rowdy troublemakers were simply a part of living and working in Unova, especially Nimbasa City, and especially in public transportation. Especially when dealing with high tensions and emotions during battle. Especially when dealing with trainers who take themselves a little too seriously.
Especially when dealing with sore losers.
The Multi Battle Line was finished. Ingo had turned to Emmet, discussing their evening plans. Battles had gone well today. They had won some, they had lost some. Emmet asked about going to the new Kalosian place on the corner of Fourth and Harmond and Ingo was allowing his brother to ramble. They left the Subway after checking in with the Depot Agents, ensuring that all was well enough that they could head out for the evening. Ingo scolded Emmet for saying something a little too blunt to a young Trainer and reassured them that Emmet was just excited, which was true. Emmet led Ingo out of the Subway, both of them falling into step with each other as Ingo began to hum to himself, Emmet moving his hands in time to the low beat.
“You two!” The twins had lifted their heads, Emmet’s hands falling back to his sides. There were not many people left on the street, a single person with a backpack walking home with earbuds in and a man in a suit trudging into a small diner. It was late. Night had fallen, the warm glow of the streetlights the only thing that permeated the blanket of black over the city. They paused in their steps, legs snapping together as they looked around for a moment. Nothing. They continued.
“I’m talkin’ to you two clowns! Don’t you run from me!” They looked at each other. This was likely not good. They each spun on their heels, grabbing their caps and looking behind them. There were three men standing in the alleyway that they had just passed, their shaded figures covered by the thick inky dark that permeated the mouth of the space.
“Hello, sirs. Is there anything we can assist you with?” Ingo tried to keep his voice as strong and pleasant as possible, hoping to figure out the issue and resolve it without violence. He (and Emmet, to a lesser degree) hated getting physical. They also made sure to stand directly under the light of the closest lamp. Any small thing to deter these people helped.
“Yeah, you fucking can. You both cheated during our battle earlier. I got left in Opelucid because o’ you nitwits. And then you had the gall to gloat.”
Ingo furrowed his brows and met Emmet’s eyes. Emmet looked just as confused. “Sir, I am afraid we do not know what you mean. We do not cheat. In fact, we use Level Blockers-”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you use. Y’all are scumbags. And we sure as hell don’t appreciate bein’ messed with.” The other two goons behind him came forward, not quite entering the light. “What’re you smilin’ about anyway?”
Ingo knew this was getting nowhere. He opened his mouth to speak, but Emmet beat him to it. “I am Emmet. I cannot frown. That is Ingo’s job.”
It was silent. “Stop fuckin with me. I’m gonna wipe that dumbass grin off your stupid fuckin face.” Ingo threw an arm out to cover Emmet, but he didn’t get the chance. The first guy lunged, fist poised and ready to strike. Ingo had half a second to register that he remembered this man from earlier that day, during the Multi Battle Line, who had brought a half-assembled team of all poison types, which fell easily to Excadrill and Haxorus and had yelled at the two of them for ‘cheating’ by using Earthquake. They had to have him escorted out.
Something crunched next to Ingo’s head. A groan. Ingo whirled to see Emmet’s glove stained with red and human flesh crumpling beneath white cloth. The attacker stumbled back, holding his face and growling. Emmet shook his hand off, grimacing. “I am Emmet. I do not like blood.”
That only served to make the men angrier. The first one barreled at Emmet again, forcing his body weight onto him and toppling the two of them over. Emmet was forced to engage with him, trying to hold him back and get some debilitating hits in at the same time. During this, Ingo was distracted. Something smashed into his jaw, making him see stars. Ingo stepped back, turning and holding up his arms over his chest, trying to cover himself as he took in his own adversary.
It was the other man from before. He’d used exclusively steel types. Which had also fallen easily to Earthquake. He carried a small glinting object in his hand and a ballcap that shaded his eyes. He grimaced at Ingo. “Asshole,” he growled as he came in for the attack again. He held the knife in a backhand stroke, bringing it down as Ingo tucked and dodged, as Drayden had taught him. After they had moved to Nimbasa, their uncle had showed the twins a few things about self-defense and brawling, in case they ever got into an altercation like this. It was coming in handy now.
Ingo dodged, sweeping out a leg as he came down and forcing the man to crash down. He grunted and rolled, grabbing Ingo’s leg and forcing him to crash down, too. Ingo caught himself on his arm, rolling up to get a view of the man again. He had flitted over to Ingo, straddling him and a hand was lunging for Ingo-
Ingo wrapped his arm around the man’s outstretched one, grabbing the upper end of the appendage and keeping it temporarily restrained as he tried to grab the knife. Ingo wrapped his legs around the man’s legs as well, rotating his body and forcing the man’s center of gravity over. They flipped positions so that Ingo was now straddling the guy, holding down his arms and legs and effectively not allowing him to move.
A kick landed to his side. He felt something shift and heard a pop below his flesh as he fell to the side, grunting in pain. Something was broken. Ingo’s breath was gone for a moment, he needed to breathe. He opened his eyes again, looking up in time to see something shiny and silver glint above his head and he felt pressure in his side, like he was being punched again and again, all along his right side. He tried to cover the area with his hand but it did not do much, as they just got moved out of the way.
The other attacker came to his other side and kicked his left side. Ingo could not breath. He reached out with his arms and tightly gripped their ankles, making them fall again. Was Emmet okay? He had to make sure Emmet was alright. Ingo could feel something warm and viscous on his side, as he pushed himself to the side, leaning towards the one without a weapon. A fist was reaching for Ingo’s face but he ducked and punched with all his strength, landing a hard hit on the man’s temple. He crumpled to the ground.
Pressure in his back again, like a punch. Ingo grunted and tried to roll, but found he was pinned. He was being held down, there was a pressure in his back and on his arm as a heel ground into his hand, Ingo tried flailing-
The pressure disappeared. Sounds above him. Someone was grunting, there was a scuffle, where was Emmet? Was he alright? Ingo tried to peel himself off the ground but his arms gave out. They felt like noodles, overcooked and way too loose. He fell, his face connecting with the concrete again.
Warmth. It was everywhere, had someone spilled syrup on him? It was everywhere, all over his back and side. It was sticky and his clothes were sticking to his side uncomfortably. “Emmet?” he croaked. “Emmet? Are… you alright?” Ingo managed to slowly flip himself right as a massive wave of pain overtook him, his side feeling like it had simultaneously been burned and electrocuted. He cried out. Oh, Arceus, it hurt. His hands flew to his side and Ingo became aware of the red, everywhere. Red all over his white shirt, his white gloves, why was there so much red? Where had it come from?
There was another noise. Someone was talking, but it sounded like he had jelly shoved into his ears. Maybe it was the same red that was on the ground? He didn’t know. A familiar face floated above his, silver eyes and silver hair. It was… Emmet, yes, it was Emmet! Ingo’s lips moved, trying to ask if he was alright, if he needed assistance, did he need help? He couldn’t hear his own words in his head. Why was Emmet’s voice echoing? What were those lights? A tap on his cheek and Ingo realized that his eyes were closing. He felt so sleepy suddenly, it surely would not be that bad if he took a short nap, right? Emmet was shouting something, his eyes fearful, what was he afraid of?
The pain crescendoed again, making Ingo suck in a breath- only he couldn’t. He couldn’t breath. He gasped, trying, begging his lungs to take in air again. Please, he needed air, why couldn’t he breathe? Someone was shaking him, black spots appeared in his vision, the lights, so many bright lights -
—------------------
The first thing Ingo was aware of was pain. Aching, dull, and yet freezing . Why was he so cold? He wanted to shiver but his body would not respond. He hurt. He hurt so much. Why did he hurt so much?
Beeping above him. It was methodic, occurring at regular intervals. Had Emmet changed his alarm again? He should know that unless it was louder, Ingo would never get up on time! How late was he?
He cracked open his eyes. He was not in his bedroom. In fact, he did not think he was home. The walls were completely white, a small TV screen dangling from one wall was turned off. The ceilings looked like those one would find in a school or institution, not a home. The large window was covered with a white curtain, which did not do much for the light streaming through them. A sink stood on his left with some supplies he could not identify yet. That beeping behind him started again. Something was over his face.
Hospital , he thought suddenly. And just like that, the events of before flooded back to him. The world came into a sharper focus, allowing him to make out more details as his mind spat out the events of the fight. There was a tube taped to his face, blowing air into his nose. There was a needle inserted into his right hand, giving him IV fluids and medication from the bag beside him. That beep again… was it a heart monitor? Latex gloves in neat boxes and syringes lined the sink to the side with small paper cups in a dispenser on the wall. It smelled like antiseptic.
Chairs were lined up at his bedside. All were empty except one, which had a figure in it. Their silver head bobbed, one hand holding his left hand, the one without wires, as he buried his face in Ingo’s blankets. Emmet.
“Emmet…?” Ingo croaked. He hated how dry his mouth felt. How long had he been asleep?
Emmet’s head shot up. Oh, his poor brother looked awful . His hair was completely unkempt and greasy. It had to have been several days since he washed it. His eyes were sunken, surrounded by dark circles and bags. His lips were chapped. His face was pale, way too pale. His hand was shaking. As soon as Emmet saw Ingo’s eyes, a small, relieved breath left his body, tears springing to his eyes.
“Oh, thank Arceus, you’re awake.” Emmet shuddered, squeezing Ingo’s hand gently. He hiccupped, which put Ingo into brother mode.
“Emmet? What… how long was I…?” He wanted to ask so many questions but how throat kept closing up. He coughed and hissed at the sudden flare up of pain in his chest. Something felt off, like there was some foreign body in his chest.
“Ingo, don’t talk.” Ingo knitted his brows and looked at Emmet. “I can… the doctor, I’ll get the doctor. He can explain. You’ve been asleep for three days.”
Three days?! No wonder Emmet looked so distraught…
Ingo opened his mouth to speak, but Emmet placed a finger over his lips. “Your lung was punctured. They are trying to reinflate it. Keep the whistles to a minimum.” Emmet pressed a small button by Ingo’s side. He must be summoning someone. Ingo shakily took his right hand (why was it shaking so horribly?) and formed his forefinger and thumb into a C shape, tipping it towards his face. Emmet nodded and quickly got up, nearly knocking over his chair as he did so, filling a small paper cup with water and passing it to Ingo. Ingo tried to take it but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t hold it. Emmet had to assist him in getting the liquid into his mouth.
It was cool and refreshing. Ingo almost whined with how nice it was to have something other than morning breath permeate his mouth.
A door swung open, revealing two people. Both seemed like medical personnel. The first, a tall man with glasses and short dark hair, gave a warm smile. “Ah, it is good to see you awake. You gave us quite a scare.” Emmet’s hand took his again. It was comforting.
“What happened?” Ingo’s voice was already stronger with the intake of liquid.
“What do you remember?”
“I remember… being attacked. By three passengers. They were upset… by our conduct on the Subway, I believe. One had a knife. I… do not remember details…” Ingo was feeling tired suddenly. Why was he so exhausted?
“Your brother brought you both in here just in time. You had been stabbed several times and we almost could not bring you back. As it was, one of your lungs collapsed and you needed a blood transfusion. You also had liver damage and cuts in the intestine from the blade, but we were able to control the damage there. Quite honestly, you are lucky to be alive. We counted twelve separate stab wounds on your side and back.”
Ingo hardly had the energy to nod, but he did. The doctor continued. “The fact that you are awake is a fantastic sign. You will require several weeks of healing, but you will be back to your old self without too many lasting effects.” Ingo nodded again, his energy and wakefulness fading.
He heard Emmet say something suddenly, frightened, and someone’s quiet voice was answering him…
—----------------------
The next time Ingo awoke it was night. The pain was still present, but it seemed duller, less of a heavy presence now. The window was dark. The room had a nightlight in one corner, casting deep shadows into the room.
That same presence from before laid beside him, on the bed. Emmet. His hand was still in Ingo’s, his head now completely on the bed, his face turned to Ingo. His eyes were closed. A small amount of drool escaped the side of his mouth, saturating a small puddle on the bed. Ingo carefully retracted his hand, carding it through Emmet’s hair. It was not cleaned. Emmet did not look any better than he had last time Ingo had awakened. If anything, his bags were more pronounced, his face an even sicklier pallor. Ingo wanted nothing else than to force him to eat something and hug him. He somehow looked worse than Ingo felt.
His eyes fluttered open at the contact. Ingo continued moving his hand through Emmet’s hair as Emmet readjusted to wakefulness. Then he smiled, softly, grabbing Ingo’s hand and sitting up straight. Ingo heard his spine pop. How long had he been hunched over like that?
“Ingo.” He sounded tired.
“Emmet, are you feeling alright?” Emmet’s face split into a wider grin and he chuckled.
“You are the one in a hospital bed. And you are asking me if I am alright?”
“You look like death. When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”
Emmet did not answer. He squeezed Ingo’s hand and cocked his head ever so slightly, looking into and reading Ingo’s eyes. “How long was I uncoupled this time?” Ingo asked.
“Thirty-six hours. The doctor said it is normal. You will be in and out for some time.” Ingo nodded, leaning his head back onto the pillows again. He stretched his neck, hearing a satisfying pop in his upper spine. He sighed. “They removed the tube. Your lungs are normal again. You are healing, slowly.” Ingo nodded at him in response and hummed. Ingo took Emmet’s hand again, giving it a squeeze. Emmet grabbed it in both hands. “I almost lost you.” His voice was small, like it had been when he’d first began to talk at the age of seven. Uneven, unsure, and so, so vulnerable.
Ingo turned his head so that he was looking at Emmet directly. “But you did not. You are still stuck with me,” he added, trying to make it more lighthearted.
“Don’t say it like that. It is never like that. If you had… I don’t know what I would have…” Tears were forming in Emmet’s eyes, which he angrily wiped away. Ingo squeezed his hand again, then retracted it. He braced himself, moving half an inch to the right. It made pain flare up in his side, but he gritted his teeth and moved. “I-Ingo, what are you, that’s not good for you-”
Ingo stopped, now successfully moved over by a couple inches. It would have to work. He patted the empty space next to him.
“Lay with me.”
Emmet cocked his head. “The doctor said-”
“Emmet, you look like you’re about to collapse. I can’t do much from here, but I can do this. I know you sleep better with company. You don’t have to get all the way up. Just lay your head next to me. Please.” His voice was tired. He could tell, it had not been used much in some time.
Emmet carefully sat on the bed and leaned down, looking at Ingo to ensure he was not hurting him. He picked his way down, like a Liepard laying in her nest, ensuring he did not put pressure on any part of Ingo’s body. He straightened himself, laying his head down by Ingo’s ribs so that Ingo’s arm had full range of motion, bending his knees ever so slightly. His whole body was now on the bed. Ingo pulled Emmet into his side, placing his arm down by Emmet’s back. He gently took Emmet’s free hand and laid it over his own stomach. He could hear Emmet begin to protest but Ingo cut him off. “I do not feel any pain there. It is only my side and my chest, not my stomach. I promise I will inform you of any pain.” He then placed his own arm back on his brother’s back, rubbing in gentle circles. Just like when there used to be loud fireworks outside their window when they were young.
Emmet’s breathing leveled out quickly. He must already be asleep. Ingo leaned his head back, allowing his eyes to close and again falling into the soft blanket of unconsciousness.
—----------------
“Well, gentlemen, it looks like Ingo can finally be discharged. Ensure that you do not return to your normal schedule for some time and that you perform the stretches we spoke of, as well as keeping up with your medications. Stay on this for two weeks and come back so we can ensure that you are on the proper road to recovery. A nurse will return shortly to bring in the discharge paperwork.” The doctor nodded kindly at them and walked out, leaving the brothers by themselves.
Emmet smiled at Ingo, squeezing his hand. “You can come home again,” he said softly. He looked much better. Since Ingo had begun being awake more than twenty minutes per day, he had enforced Emmet’s self-care schedule once again. He made his brother retrieve nourishment, shower, and sleep at regular intervals. Especially at first, Emmet had not wanted to let Ingo out of his sight, but Ingo had managed to goad him into it after threatening to scruff him and take him to the shower himself. (And he almost did, once. That event had been the turning point for Emmet.) His eyes were still sunken and surrounded by shadows, but they were less haunted and glassy. Some life had returned to them. He had color in his cheeks again.
Ingo nodded. He was ready to be out of this hospital and back home again. He had been here for two weeks now. Emmet had brought him a set of his old clothes, consisting of sleep pants and a faded old shirt. Ingo did not care. He got to wear real clothes again. Emmet had to help him into the clothing to ensure he did not tear the leftover scabbing on his side. The waistband of his pants rubbed awkwardly against the bandaging and he had to tie them loosely to prevent any damage. He wanted nothing more than to shower. A real shower. He reeked of hospital.
He stood, as he had been practicing with the nurses and Emmet for some time. He needed to get his strength back now. Emmet offered him an arm to help him trudge out the door, to the front desk, and finally out of the front door of the hospital.
Someone met them there. It was someone that Ingo knew well. She stood tall and proud, her nice yellow blouse covered by a leather jacket. Her hair was up in a bun, with her normal two strands hanging down by her hips. Emmet called to her, waving at her with the hand that Ingo was not using to balance. She jolted up, running closer and skidding to a halt a couple feet from them, taking Ingo’s other arm to help him.
“Oh Arceus, Ingo, you’re okay. Oh, thank Arceus you’re okay. How are you feeling?” Elesa looked at him with tears on her face, not bothered that her makeup would be ruined.
“I just feel tired. I have not moved this much in quite some time. The doctor says all my vitals are normal and now we just wait for my muscles and skin to repair themselves.”
“He also said not to let you work yet. No Subway for you,” Emmet chirped.
Ingo grumbled. He was not happy about that bit, though he begrudgingly understood why. He didn’t have to like it. Elesa giggled next to him. “It’s good to see not that much has changed.”
She had not been able to visit him in the hospital, as they had only allowed for one visitor. Not that she would have been able to interact with him much, as he had spent much of the first week asleep in his bed.
The two helped him to Elesa’s car, ensuring he got safely into the backseat and buckled in before Emmet climbed in on the other side and Elesa took the drivers seat. She put the vehicle in motion. Elesa asked Ingo about how he felt now and updated him on the happenings during his stay. Emmet had not said too much about the world outside the hospital, partly because he did not want to stress Ingo too much, and partly because he simply did not speak much. Especially with the exhaustion he experienced the first few days of Ingo’s stay.
They made it back to the twins’ apartment within ten minutes, Elesa parking out front to allow Emmet out to help Ingo inside. They had to take the elevator up, as Ingo was unsure about stairs yet.
Elesa caught up with them at their front door and took the key from a shaking Emmet, unlocking and opening the door. The space smelled a little musty, but overall it looked much the same. Their furniture sat in their old spots, no trash piled up anywhere, their bookshelf still stuffed full. What was odd, though, was the lack of movement within.
“Where are our Pokemon? I thought you said you were bringing them back from Drayden’s?” Ingo asked Emmet.
“Their stay is extended for the moment. Until you heal a bit more. They are being cared for, do not worry. Drayden and Iris are still watching them.” Ingo went over the threshold, holding the wall. It was nice to be out of the hospital. Emmet came to his side again, helping him shed the jacket he wore, and helping him to their room. Their door was open.
Two beds sat on opposite sides of the room, one with white blankets and a black pillow, and the other with black blankets and a white pillow. Ingo collapsed on the black bed, sighing in contentment. His bed. It felt nice. He shed his shoes and simply sat with his eyes closed for a moment.
“I’d like to shower.”
“Are you sure?’
“Positive.” Emmet grabbed him some nightclothes and helped him into the bathroom. He had to sit in order to shower, but he would take what he needed. It was a long process to unwind the bandages leftover and ensure that he showered properly, but by the end of forty-five minutes, he was fresh and clean with new clothes on. He felt astounding .
Elesa helped him back to the couch as Emmet was busy with something in the kitchen. He sat with a thump, leaning back on the cushion. She sat next to him. “What happened to them? The ones who attacked us?” Ingo asked her.
“They were arrested. Their trial was waiting to see if you would heal. Their hearing is next week, but the evidence is pretty damning. They got it on video.” That made him shudder. Who all had seen it? He did not want to know, honestly. “Is Emmet doing better?” he asked, though he had an assumption he knew the answer.
“He barely left the hospital the entire time you were there. I ended up being the one to take your Pokemon to Drayden and make sure your apartment was kept in some semblance of order. He… he wasn’t hurt that badly by the guys, he got a black eye and some bruises, but… he’s different. He doesn’t like letting you out of his sight. Almost losing you really scared him. I don’t know how things are going to work for a while. Or if he’ll ever let you alone, again.”
Ingo nodded, thinking. “I will speak to him. I will give him time, though. I was not in a right state of mind, but he is still my brother. I will ensure he is alright.”
He did not say anything else as Emmet entered the room, with a bottle of water in his hand. He sat on the floor between the two of them, leaning his back against their legs and turning on the TV.
Something chimed softly behind him. Ingo looked up as Emmet flicked through the channels, seeing something he had not expected. “Chandelure?” He heard both of the other’s head turn as the Pokemon materialized out of thin air, floating down with a happy jingle and settling by his head, nuzzling his cheek with her glass. He chuckled. “You stowed away, didn’t you? And hid in the house, invisible. You little troublemaker.” His voice held no animosity, only fondness. She chimed again, clearly happy to see her trainer again. Ingo lifted his hand and gently guided her to his lap, allowing her to take up residence where he could pet her appropriately. She dimmed her flames, pleased with herself.
“Somehow this does not surprise me,” Emmet said.
“She is very persistent,” Ingo agreed.
Truthfully, Ingo was exhausted. He had not moved this much since the attack. He leaned on Elesa’s shoulder, allowing his eyes to drift shut as he rested his one hand on Emmet’s head, petting his hair, and the other cradled his dear partner Pokemon. He was asleep before they had even selected a show.