Work Text:
"Bravo. Your talent has brought you to the destination known as Victory. However, your journey has just started. When you choose your next destination, go full steam ahead."
His words are forced out through clenched teeth, a familiar script and yet one so entirely foreign to him that it feels funny on his tongue. They're sounds, syllables, sentences he had said over and over again. So many years of delivering speech after speech for every winning passenger that rides his line. But now they are just as lost as the man who used to say them.
Now they are nothing more than a formality, lacking the warmth they used to carry.
He sways where he stands on the end of the car despite the fact the train has stopped moving, hand clenched around the handle hanging above his head and knuckles white. The lights around him are blinding and his vision is swimming and there's a throbbing behind his eyes that has been steadily getting worse over the past hour. He grits his teeth, forcing himself to get through the rest of his farewell. Passenger safety is of the upmost importance, as is the reputation of the subway… his own health can wait.
Ingo motions to the doorway as the doors slide open to reveal Platform Six. "Please mind the gap on your way out." He can see the challenger he just faced glance at him with an expression he doesn't have the patience to decipher. Every second they waste standing in his car grates on his nerves. His foot taps against the ground as he prays to whatever entity is listening to just make them leave already.
Usually Ingo doesn't mind when passengers stick around for a couple minutes for friendly conversation, but that's not what it will be and he knows it. It’s been that way for days now — people lingering in his car to poke and prod at his still sore feelings towards his stay in Hisui and his disappearance. Ingo tries to be polite and answer their questions without exposing all of those tender thoughts about his situation that he hasn't even shared with his twin yet… but he only has so much energy to keep up with that. Every single passenger he's interacted with in the past week since he came back to work has had something to say about his derailment or had some invasive question about his well-being he felt pressured to answer. It feels never ending.
He doesn't want to talk. Doesn't want to answer the same stupid questions he's been asked almost every damn day since he came home. And perhaps that is a cruel way to feel, but he just can't help but hate it more every time those topics are brought up. It's always the same conversation about how he's 'adjusting' to living in the modern world again and if he's doing 'okay' and all of those things he just can't stand talking about. Ingo is sick of it, even if he understands why he's being asked.
People are curious and worried. He can't hold that against them. Even so, Ingo can't stand it. Can't stand how invested random strangers are in his personal life or how entitled they feel to his Truth. It feels so in-genuine at times. Like they're just prying for weak spots to exploit later. And to make matters worse, he's already in a bad mood today. He woke up feeling rather crummy — his head has been pounding since he opened his eyes this morning. In truth, Ingo probably should have told Emmet he was feeling unwell and stayed home, but he didn't want to worry his brother. He's already been worrying enough since his return and… well, Emmet was so happy that he was coming back to work and Ingo couldn't bring himself to ruin that.
So he's suffering through it; forcing himself to keep moving even when it hurts.
He wakes up every morning and comes to the Battle Subway and he battles and then he goes back to his office to silently scream about all the stress he's under. Ingo used to love battling, used to love helping passengers find their way around the subway system and chatting with people in between running his lines… now it's a chore. Every damn day is a fight with himself to keep moving down the tracks, but he refuses to let himself be put out of commission again. Not after Emmet worked so hard to get him certified again and stayed up into the early hours of the morning on several occasions to finish all the paperwork it took to legally settle any outlying issues with his missing persons case.
It would be a waste to let all of his twin's hard work be for nothing and he's survived worse. Fuck, he'd lived in the harsh wilderness of Hisui for years and he survived that! How much more difficult can it be to work his shift at the subway? Truthfully…
No. Ingo is fine. He is working. He is talking to people. He is not derailing. He is fine.
The only reason he's getting so worked up right now is because his head hurts. If he were at peak performance, he would not be having these thoughts nor would he be so negative about everything. He would be going about his day and battling like normal. Like nothing is wrong… like Ingo is still the same man that disappeared in the middle of the night all those years ago.
Right…
It's been quiet for too long.
Ingo peels his gaze off of the floor — he hadn't even realized he zoned out — and glances around the car. It's empty now. The challenger that had been standing before him moments ago must have left already. Which means he doesn't have to answer any more questions right now and he's been standing around for too long. Ingo is fine. He feels the pressure he hadn't noticed was building in his chest release ever so slightly. Just enough so he can drag in a fuller breath.
Maybe it's mean, but he's glad he doesn't have to talk. He's glad he doesn't have to worry about not saying too much or trying to keep as many of his precious internal thoughts to himself as he can. Ingo can keep some of his privacy for now. Only for now. Until someone else decides his frown means he needs to talk to someone about his feelings.
No, he's being negative again. Ingo needs to take his mind off of that downward spiral before he really derails! He should be getting back to his office now anyway. There must be so much paperwork he needs to catch up on because he knows for a fact that Emmet has been too busy with the Doubles Lines to do it. Which means neither of them have had time to stop by the office and deal with their written work. Emmet is still on his line. Thus, it's Ingo's problem now. Great. Just great.
Well, the sooner he finishes it, the sooner he can relax. He might as well just power through.
Ingo ignores a spike of pain in his temple as he releases the handle, an ache shooting across his palm. He winces. Flexing his palm a couple times, Ingo looks down to assess the damage. His hand is red and there's an indent in his skin where it had been clenched around the handle. Ingo can feel his frown getting deeper. He ignores the pain and stuffs his hand into his pocket, then he turns and strides towards the door. Or he tries to, at least.
Ingo only gets one step before his legs buckle and he collapses to his knees. A loud thump rings out through the quiet as he slams into the metal of the floor, a grunt being wrenched out of him. Pain erupts in his knees and spreads up his thighs and down his shins, radiating across the area. Ingo hisses, bracing one of his hands against the floor. There's a tremor in his body now that he hadn't noticed before — a twitch in his fingertips and a light burn in his legs. He must have been standing for too long and his legs fell asleep. Stifling a groan, Ingo pushes himself off of the ground. He sways again, barely managing to keep himself on his feet.
That's… not good. Ingo feels strange. There's a sort of buzzing under his skin that he doesn't understand and his chest is tight again, heart pounding over the ringing in his ears. He feels as if he's not in full control of his body... he… maybe he's just tired.
Ingo is fine. He can handle whatever this strange bout of dizziness is. He's going to his office anyway. If he rests, he should feel better soon, right? Ingo will just power through this strange feeling and collapse when he reaches his destination. It's not like he can stay in this car any longer to assess himself anyway. If he does, he's going to end up being brought back to the Depot for the evening. And as much as he would love the peace that may bring, Ingo doesn't want to have to think about his route back home. All of the commuter rails are due back at the Depot for the night soon and there are no exceptions for that rule. Not even for a Subway Boss. Walking back on foot would not be ideal.
So, Ingo tries to drag in as deep a breath as he can before stepping out of the car. It's not enough. His chest remains tight, the air he gets not as refreshing as he feels it should be. He stumbles as he strides out onto the crowded platform, nearly tripping and falling again. Ingo shakes his head. No, he's fine. Nothing is wrong. He is doing fine. All he needs to do is get through the late night crowd and then get to his office. Everything is fine. Ingo blinks as hard as he can, trying to clear away some of the fog forming in his head.
Why is this happening? Ingo was just fine a moment ago, wasn't he? So why is he feeling this way now?
He's fine! He should be… he's doing alright. Ingo drags in another breath, still feeling starved for air, then opens his eyes again. His vision is spinning. Ingo ignores it, starting off into the crowd. He can hear his footsteps tapping against the ground as his moves, the heels of his boots making a clacking sound that rises over the bustle of the station. Ingo tries to focus on the clacking, ignoring the rest of the world. He stares down at his shoes as they carve a path across the platform. If he can just focus on that, he will be fine. Ingo knows he will be.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Something slams into his shoulder, knocking him off balance. Ingo gasps for breath as his skin burns where he'd been touched. "Sorry!" A voice calls, already walking away. It's louder than it should be, ringing in his ears and making his head spin faster. His skin burns. His skin burns! Ingo's head snaps up in search of the voice and… everything hits him all at once.
There's a sea of bodies all around him. Flowing, shifting, rushing in all directions. He can feel himself getting pushed around with the current of commuters moving around him. Another bump on the shoulder. A voice wishing him a good night. Laughter over a phone call. Chirping of a Pokémon hidden in the crowd. Another bump. So many…
People.
Conversations. Footsteps against metal. Flashing colors. Bright lights. Screaming voices. Screeching of a train pulling in on the other side of the platform. Noise. Noise. Noise!
Ingo's heart is in his throat, his vision rapidly getting blurrier with every passing second. His gaze darts around the platform, searching for some sort of escape. He's surrounded. Trapped. There's… it's too much. Too many things. Too many people. Nowhere to go! He can't even focus on one single thing, lost in the mess of sensation surrounding him. He can taste his pulse as he takes another step. It's too loud. There's too many people. Why are there so many people? Why is he surrounded?
Ingo can feel himself start to shake. He doesn't stop. He plunges into the ever-flowing crowd, trying to avoid running into people when he can. It's not a very successful endeavor. He can feel shoulders bumping into him. Bags. Hands. Voices. People. Everywhere. It's everywhere.
Everything burns. His skin itches — a constant reminder as more things push past him.
He can't. He can't do it. He can't, he can't, he can't.
Ingo pants, chest tightening as everything around him caves in. He presses his hand to his chest, heart pounding under his palm. Nothing is working. Nothing is helping. His head is throbbing and his chest hurts and his body is shaking and NOTHING IS WORKING!
This is…
He can't breathe.
He can't breathe.
Ingo needs to get out of here. Now. His searching becomes frantic, eyes darting around until he finds one clear path. One route. He's not sure where it leads, but there's a door on the other side of the platform. Nobody is there — a clear board. And he takes it. He breaks into a sprint, racing past people and Pokémon and anything standing in his way. Ingo can't feel his body as he runs. Only the breeze his movement creates and the tremor that has spread across his whole body. All the noise is drowned out by the pounding of his pulse in his ears.
He manages to clear the distance quickly and he throws the door open. Ingo strides inside and slams it behind himself.
It appears he's found a bathroom. An empty one. All of the green stall doors are hanging open. The lights are bright. Ingo whips around and flips the light switch off, plunging the bathroom into darkness. It's rude to take over a whole room that should be accessible to passengers, but Ingo doesn't care. He needs dark. He needs quiet. He needs everything to just leave him alone for a moment!
On shaking legs, Ingo stumbles over to the other side of the room, turns, and collapses onto the floor near the sink. He drags his knees up to his chest and buries his face in them.
All he can hear is his own panting and the frantic thumping of his heart.
Emmet's stomach is going to eat him, he's certain of it. It's been growling for almost an hour now! Skipping lunch today had been a verrry bad idea, but he was just so busy with the Doubles Line that he didn't have time to stop for a snack. Which means Ingo was probably alone again for lunch… for the third day in a row. He really hates leaving his twin alone these days, but he can do very little about their circumstances right now. Much to his chagrin.
Their schedules are just too insane! Which has led to Ingo and Emmet being needed in different parts of the station all day long. Heck, he hasn't seen his twin since they left their apartment this morning! They've had more passengers on both the Doubles and the Singles lines in a couple days than they used to get in a week! Well, not by much but still! Emmet is starting to get tired of all the back to back battles he's had since his brother returned to the station. As much as he loves battling, this is way too much even for him!
And maybe being away from Ingo so often really stresses him out… more than he would like to admit. He's been trying not to cling to his twin since his return, but Emmet would be lying if he said he didn't want to be at his side every moment of the day. He's cried several times in between battles because of how anxious he was. Ingo's disappearance did a number on him, after all. He just… he doesn't want to make things harder on Ingo by being needy. That's all.
Even so, Emmet can't deny that he's worried. All day, he's been thinking about how Ingo is doing and wondering if his battles were going well. While he could have texted his brother and asked, he was afraid that would be too naggy of him. So he didn't. Instead, he's been stewing in anxiety.
This sucks. Reaaally sucks.
He would prefer to be around his brother as often as possible. Which is verrry difficult when both of them are in as high demand as they are right now.
All he can do is hope the excitement surrounding Ingo's return will die down soon so they can go back to a more normal schedule. He misses being around Ingo during the day and battling beside him — the Multis Line still isn't open yet to allow Ingo more time to readjust though, so that might not happen in a while. Working overtime is not fun for either of them. And Emmet can see that it's starting to grate on Ingo. Actually, he should probably talk to his brother about that soon. He'd hate for Ingo to get too overwhelmed by their workload.
It has only been a couple months since he got home, after all. Ingo needs his rest.
"Zebstrika, Wild Charge! And Liligant, Stun Spore!" The trainer on the other side of the car shouts, pulling Emmet out of his thoughts.
Right. He's in the middle of a battle. Emmet is supposed to be focusing! Geez, how did he let his mind wander so far that he'd forgotten? He shakes his head, focusing in on the battlefield.
The trainer has his Liligant and Zebstrika on the field. Emmet has Spark and Klank with him. Not exactly a great type mashup for either of them. Emmet almost wants to pull his hair out as he tries to think of move strategies. He's far too tired to come up with anything decent. Oh well. His opponent is on his last legs anyway and Emmet can work with this. "Spark! Use Thunderbolt! Klank, Toxic on Liligant!"
His Pokémon snap into action. Spark charges up electricity and shoots the Zebstrika with a Thunderbolt before tanking its Wild Charge. He shakes himself off and readies himself for another command. Meanwhile, Klank launches a Toxic on the Liligant and manages to dodge the Stun Spore. As the poison settles in and the damage hits, the Liligant goes down. Emmet turns his attention back to the Zebstrika.
Now the trainer is down to his last Pokémon. He can see the man grit his teeth, staring at the battlefield. Emmet will say he admires his grit even if his tactic could use some work! Maybe next time they battle, he will win… no, Emmet will win for sure! He likes winning more than anything else.
Ah, but he's getting distracted now. Emmet needs to finish this so he can get back to his office and relax for a while. And maybe he'll run into Ingo once he's there! Seeing his brother after a long day would be verrry nice. He should ask what he wants for dinner too. Emmet doesn't want to cook-
"Zebstrika! Thrash on the Eelektross go!" He shouts.
Right, still in battle. Emmet grips the brim of his hat harder, his smile widening. "Dodge it, Spark and hit back with Thunderbolt! Klank, use Flash Cannon!" His voice rings out through the car and his Pokémon are quick to act.
With one more Thunderbolt and Flash Cannon while it's distracted both hitting the Zebstrika, it finally goes down. He watches it return to the trainer's Pokéball in a flash just as the train finally pulls into the station. Right on time! Oh, Emmet loves when that happens. He sighs as he recalls his team and releases his hat to instead salute the man. "I am Emmet. I won against you. But I think I just got lucky. In a Double Battle, if you misread one thing, the rest will be totally different. You know. Please win 20 battles in a row, and fight with me!"
The trainer slumps a little, a wry smile spreading across his face. Well, good to know he's not a sore loser. Emmet does not like sore losers. "Damn. Thought for sure I had it this time… ah, well next time for sure. Thanks for the battle man," he says, striding over to Emmet's side of the car. He holds his hand out to shake.
Oh. Emmet does not really like touching people, but one handshake can't hurt, right? He's wearing gloves, so it should be fine.
He goes to grab his hand.
His radio fizzles to life on his belt. "Subway Boss Emmet! There's a problem with Subway Boss Ingo! Assistance required immediately," Agent Cloud's voice calls through the static. Emmet's heart leaps into his throat and his hand changes course to snatch the radio off of his belt. The trainer steps back, a concerned look flashing across his face.
"What?! What happened, what's wrong?" Emmet's voice comes out higher than he'd like, but he doesn't care. "Tell me what happened!"
"I'm not sure, sir. The last person on his line was worried something was wrong, so she came to me. I went to check on him, but he ran into the bathroom on Platform Six before I could talk to him. He won't answer anyone. We've blocked off the bathroom." Her tone is full of worry and it does not make him feel any better. Fuck! He should have known not to leave Ingo alone! He should have been there to help him! Why wasn't he there?
Why wasn't he there, again?
Emmet is getting really damn tired of not being there when things happen to Ingo. And that's his final straw. He can't keep stressing himself out over his brother due to never seeing him during the day and Ingo clearly isn't fairing any better. Emmet doesn't care who he has to fight, he is not allowing them to be apart like this any longer! But that is a problem for later. His top priority right now is getting to Ingo.
Thankfully Platform Six is right outside the door.
"Go, man. I'll catch you next time," the trainer says, once again pulling Emmet from his thoughts. He nods his thanks and turns on his heel, racing out of the subway.
There are people everywhere, but that doesn't deter Emmet. He just sprints past them, calling 'excuse me' as he goes.
Nothing will stop Emmet from reaching Ingo. Full steam ahead!
He has no idea how long he's been sitting here in the dark. Seconds bleed into minutes and minutes into however long Ingo has been curled up in a ball next to a bathroom sink. His head is still throbbing and a sharp pain shoots through his lungs every time he tries to breathe. And now he can't move a muscle. Everything is tense and painful and still somehow trembling. He can't make it stop.
Why won't it stop?
Someone had been yelling to him through the door a little while ago. They were asking him something, but Ingo couldn't make out the words over the ringing in his ears. He thought maybe they were trying to get him to talk to them. Or maybe they were asking if he was alright. Ingo doesn't know. He didn't answer. Eventually they gave up.
He feels bad for ignoring them. Really, he does… but he also doesn't want to see anyone. Or anyone to see him like this. People would just make him feel worse. He's sure he'd already made a fool of himself running across the platform like he did and he's certain trying to hold a conversation in his current state would be awful. Whoever came for him would just ask him more questions he doesn't want to answer. That's all anyone ever says to him.
Always.
Ingo is tired of those questions. Tired of the concern, of the doctors and the stress and the constant buzzing in the back of his skull and the reminders all around him of the life he still can't fully remember. He just wants to go home but…
Ingo isn't sure which 'home' he wants. Here… or Hisui.
He doesn't want to think that way. But Hisui was so much easier than this. Even with all the fighting he had to do to survive. Even with the aggressive Pokémon and the solitude and the lack of understanding he felt there and the memory loss. It didn't hurt as bad. He didn't have to remember everything he was missing. It wasn't in his face, asking him questions, worrying over him and making him feel like he'll never be what he is 'supposed' to be ever again.
He doesn't feel strong enough to face this world as an incomplete picture and yet, he must.
Ingo just wants to be understood as what he is, not as he was.
He wants-
"Brother! I'm here! Are you in there?" Emmet's voice calls, followed by knocking on the door. It's a soft knock. Not demanding. Not expecting. Not forcing him to do anything. Just there… always there.
That. He wants that.
His brother. In the few months he's been home, Emmet has always been at his side. Always there for him to lean on and get information from. He's been so patient. So ready to help. And even during the toughest moments, the hardest battles, Emmet held his hand the entire time. Oh how Ingo doesn't deserve his twin. He swallows a sob as he forces his head to lift a little.
Ingo tries to call for his brother, but no words come out. He swallows and tries again. "Em-… Emmet! Emmet!"
His answer is immediate. Emmet flings the door open, steps inside the bathroom, and pushes it closed behind himself. The room is cast into darkness once more. Neither of them need light to see though. After all the years they've spent wandering around the dark subway tunnels without their lanterns, they've grown accustomed to it. That is something Ingo remembers.
Emmet wastes no time in striding over to Ingo, sliding down the wall beside him. And he just sits there, waiting for Ingo to make the first move. Neither of them say a word. Then Ingo curls into his brother's side and Emmet accepts him easily. He gathers Ingo into his arms and tucks his head under his chin, hiding Ingo from the outside world. Emmet smells of fresh linen and mint… and Ingo never realized how much he missed that scent when he was lost in the wilds of Hisui.
He grips the front of Emmet's coat, fighting off tears. "Emmet-"
"It's okay. We don't have to talk if you don't want to. I am Emmet and I will be right here regardless. We are a two car train and I refuse to be uncoupled ever again," Emmet says. His tone is even, as it always is, and laced with sincerity. Most people would not be able to pick apart the hidden meaning in his twin's monotone, but Ingo understands.
He still understands.
And that's what breaks him, Ingo bursts into tears and sobs. He feels like a child and yet, he feels no shame in crying on his brother's shoulder. His life may be out of balance right now. He may struggle with the hard conversations and the readjusting and the loud noises, but this is his safe space no matter what. Ingo can always return to it. He can cry for as long as he needs to and Emmet would not move a muscle. He will be right by his side. Always.
Nothing is perfect right now and Ingo isn't ready to begin talking about his deepest feelings… but that's okay because right now, with Emmet at his side, Ingo is home.
He can worry about the rest later.