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Everything is so quiet in the middle of nowhere. Like nothing even exists in such a space beyond himself and the things around him. He can hear bugs chirping from the tall grass beyond the trees surrounding the clearing he's sitting in, and the low crackle of the campfire in front of him, and even the soft breathing of his sleeping Pokémon around him. But in his mind, none of that is really sound. Not in the way he is used to.
Sound for Emmet is people. It's the honking horns of angry drivers on the street outside his apartment and the buzz of construction sites miles away from his home. It's the bustling crowds of Nimbasa's night-light and the footsteps of his upstairs neighbors walking around their apartment. It's him wandering around his own space, running through the motions of his nightly routine and interacting with his very human surroundings. Everything he is used to hearing while winding down for the night is manmade.
Sound is human. And the world around him right now is very much not.
Perhaps that's why Emmet finds himself unable to sleep.
It’s been almost four hours since the sun set now. All the vibrant colors of dusk drained away into darkness ages ago, leaving behind only stars and the bright light of the full moon. The fire in front of him has been reduced to embers, flickering lazily among the charred sticks and offering very little in the way of light or heat. All of his Pokémon are sleeping around him, some even snoring in their own grumbling or clicking sort of way. All of these things are signs that he should be sleeping too. Yet he's not.
No matter what he does, Emmet just can't settle. Not here in this land across the sea from Nimbasa. Not without… him.
Emmet's heart clenches in his chest. He lets his eyes slide closed for a moment, sucking in a sharp breath; holds it. It's fine. These days, Emmet can think about his brother a little easier. It still hurts — Arceus knows it always will — but it's manageable. Emmet lets the breath go as his eyes open again. He tilts his head back to stare at the sky. At the millions of shimmering stars resting in the sea of ink that makes up the sky.
It's beautiful. So unlike anything he could ever see in a city. He wishes Ingo could see it too… but he's not here. Not anymore.
And this is his first vacation without his brother at his side. Emmet thinks maybe that is the root of this issue. Of his restlessness. He thinks Elesa knew that too when she had urged him to go camp for a couple days. The only reason he came to Sinnoh was to support one of her new modeling things. Something about a brand deal with a Pokémon Coordinating company? Emmet wasn't sure of the details. He was barely listening when Elesa asked him to come. Still, he came to support her. That's what he was meant to be doing. Clearly, he wasn't good enough at hiding his feelings.
He couldn't sit still. Refused to stay in the hotel room Elesa had booked for them — he spent most of his time aimlessly wandering around the lobby, or stalking around outside of the building, or sitting in the chair by the desk when he was forced to be in the room. Emmet was barely there. Both physically and mentally. Of course Elesa saw that. Which is why she told him to go spend some time outside. She thought it would help. Maybe even thought the fresh air and quiet would help silence his own inner turmoil.
Emmet loves Elesa. Dearly, as his best friend. But this doesn't help. The silence only makes his thoughts feel so much louder. Like there's a speaker blasting them into his ears and he can't escape it.
Why can he never escape it?
He thought for a long time that he'd finally gotten over these sort of obsessive thoughts about Ingo. After five years of his absence, Emmet thought he'd learned how to cope with it. He could think about Ingo without crying and he stopped searching for his brother in everything. He thought he was doing alright. Now look at him. He's sitting in the grass near Mount Coronet in a region praised for its beauty — a peaceful region that was meant to be a vacation spot. He's supposed to be relaxed, but Emmet feels worse than he has in years.
It's not fair. Emmet just wanted to be a good friend to Elesa and cheer her on in her modeling shows… but now he's hung up on his missing twin again.
Again…
Somehow, Emmet always ends up back at this terminal. Back to standing alone on the platform, waiting for something new to come down the tracks. Nothing ever does. He'd been told over and over again to stop hoping something would change. It's not healthy for him to keep looping back to where he's found himself now. Emmet is aware. That doesn't mean he can stop it. His brain is a runaway train and he's certain that it will always crash no matter what he does to stop it…
But perhaps he can at least try to slow it down for a while. Sitting in the grass and stewing in his thoughts isn't helping the problem. If Ingo were here, he'd suggest finding something else to occupy his mind.
If Ingo were here, Emmet wouldn't have to.
Emmet swallows down the bitterness that fills him with that thought, letting his head fall back down to its resting position. His gaze sweeps over the small campsite. All of his Pokémon are sleeping soundly. He doesn't want to disturb them. Emmet glances towards the fire. It's clearly going to die soon…
Firewood. Emmet can fetch more firewood. It's a boring task and probably a mildly dangerous one without a Pokémon to back him up, but it will distract him just fine and that's all Emmet really wants. So, he plants his hands against the ground and hauls himself up with a grunt. His back cracks with the movement, a faint twinge of pain shooting through his system. Emmet reaches behind himself to rub at his lower spine.
Note to self: he's getting too old to sit on the ground without any kind of support.
Sighing through his teeth, Emmet throws one last glance around at his team. Nobody has stirred. He knows they're all deep sleepers, so he should be able to slip by unnoticed. Emmet nods to himself, then turns and starts walking towards the treeline.
Emmet decides not to stray too far from the campsite, not wanting to be any further away from his team than he has to be. Being in a foreign region, he doesn't know the local wildlife well enough to assess their threat level if he's attacked. It would be much safer if he's able to just shout for his Pokémon to defend him if he needs them to. He's also not keen on getting lost in the middle of the woods when nobody is around to help him. It could take days for anyone to find him should he get injured while lost… maybe even longer. Emmet doesn't want to think about that. So, he decides to just head back to the river he'd stopped at earlier in the day.
The river isn't all that far from where he and his team have hunkered down. That was purposeful, of course. Emmet had stumbled across the river while hiking his way to the top of the mountain and decided to let himself and his Pokémon rest there. It was meant to only be a brief stop, but at the time Emmet's head was spinning and his Pokémon were having fun splashing around in the water. He didn't have the heart or the energy to pull them away, so they stayed.
It was nice to just ignore the world and focus on trying to soak his Pokémon. Emmet had fun.
But fun is not his current objective. He'd noticed there were quite a few sticks and twigs lying around the riverbeds while swimming. Which means there should be plenty for him to gather and take back to the campsite. Once he has them, he can rebuild the fire and then… well… Then he'll figure out what he wants to do next. He doubts his brain will let him sleep and he really doesn't want to go back to thinking in silence again. Emmet will just have to deal with that 'what next' when he gets there.
He shakes that thought away as he steps through the bushes and out onto the riverbed. Once he's through the leaves, he pauses in his tracks to take in his surroundings. The rush of the water drowns out the last of his thoughts, which Emmet is immensely grateful for. His eyes sweep over the area after a moment, breath catching in his throat.
The river is so different compared to what it was like during the day. It's… quieter somehow, but not a bad kind of quiet with the splashing and chirping of bug types filling the stillness. It's also darker. The grass around the muddy banks has taken on a deep forest green color in the shadows of night while the babbling river shimmers a brilliant silver under the moonlight. All the rocks lying around have become almost black with fuzzy outlines — they look more like dark blobs. It's calm here in a restless force of nature kind of way. Like he's just a piece of the grand puzzle.
It's almost intimate; he's the only thing moving within the fragile ecosystem.
Emmet stands there until something wet rolls down the warm skin of his cheek. He startles, hand coming up to swipe away the offending droplet. Upon touching it, Emmet immediately recognizes he's crying. How could he not? He's been doing it almost nonstop for five years. Emmet just doesn't understand why he's crying…
Or maybe he does. Maybe here, away from his Pokémon and the possibility of accidentally waking them with his tears, Emmet can finally let them out. He thinks maybe he's been needing to cry since he packed up his suitcase alone for the first time in his life. Or perhaps it started when Elesa suggested leaving his home on vacation without Ingo. All he really knows is that the hurt in his chest has been bothering him since he got to Sinnoh. And nothing is helping ease the ache.
So, against his better judgment, Emmet lets himself go. He lets himself pad over to the edge of the water and sinks to his knees in the dirt. Mud is absolutely soaking into the thick, swamp green fabric of his pants, but he really can't be bothered with that right now. Instead, Emmet is focused on Ingo. He stares at himself in the reflection of the shimmery water, picturing his brother's face there instead. That deep frown and his sparkling eyes… Ingo would like Sinnoh. He likes being outside in nature. Emmet doesn't. Not really. He'd be so much happier here than Emmet is.
It's not fair that Ingo isn't here to enjoy it. It's not fair that Ingo isn't with him at all. He misses his brother with every fiber of his very being. Always. Forever. Ingo was his other half. They were a part of each other. A two-car train… but they're not anymore and there is nothing more wrong than that in Emmet's mind. This isn't how his life is supposed to be. And to the Distortion world with all those claims that it's unhealthy for Emmet to feel this way! Ingo was his twin brother. They were brought into this world together and they should have stayed that way! Only a twin would understand that as deeply as he does.
Only Ingo would understand him.
A sob bursts out of Emmet and he hangs his head, tears splashing into the river below. His chest aches as more sobs and wails force their way out of him. It hurts and Emmet can't make it stop. All he can do is cry and, for the first time in almost a year, bow his head to send out a prayer to whatever may be listening to him. Emmet did it more often to the dragons when Ingo first disappeared — he'd prayed to them every night for two years straight, but stopped upon realizing he was never going to get an answer.
He knows he won't get one now either, but still he finds himself clasping his hands together and whispering his plea.
"I-… I don't know what- who's listening. M'not Sinnoan… not one of your people-" a sob cuts him off. He gasps for breath for a moment, then forces himself to continue. "I just- Ingo… I want my brother back. Please, please just give him back… I'll do whatever you want, just- I… please!"
Silence. Only the quiet churning of the river answers him.
Emmet sobs harder, bowing his head so far his forehead is almost pressed in the mud. He feels like he's dying all over again. Like his heart is being torn to pieces and-
Someone is splashing through the water. The sound snaps him right out of his thoughts and his head whips up towards whoever is walking through the river. His eyes land on…
"Emmet!"
Ingo was starting to think he'd be stranded forever. He's been stuck wandering around Mount Coronet for almost a week now with no luck in figuring out what the heck he's supposed to do to get home! He'd assumed when Arceus said it was 'returning thou to thy proper place' that it was just going to put him back in his home station — wherever that may be because Ingo still hasn't fully regained his memories and can't exactly recall his home yet — but it had just dropped him in modern day His- Sinnoh. Not helpful at all!
Honestly, Ingo was starting to get very upset. That's the whole reason he'd packed up the makeshift shelter he'd created in an old cave and started trying to make his way down the mountain. Originally he was going to keep his distance from people and figure stuff out on his own, but his patience had run dry and he felt the need to get a move on. And that's exactly what led him to this situation.
He was about halfway down the mountain when he heard someone sobbing. And it wasn't a light sort of sob — if sobbing can even be considered 'light'? No. It was a devastated, painful kind of crying that yanked on his heartstrings. Ingo has always considered himself somewhat of a sympathetic person, but the sound of the crying wounded him more than he thinks it should have. It was like his heart was being ripped out of his chest.
So, he'd rerouted himself from the path he was following and bolted into the trees. His heart hammered against his ribcage as a bone-deep need to reach whoever was crying took over. It didn't take him long to get through the underbrush and the bushes before he was stumbling out onto a riverbank. He could hear sticks crunching under his boots as he came to a stop, but Ingo could barely focus on that when his eyes landed on the hunched form on the other side of the river.
It's a man wearing a white jacket. Not the same one Ingo always sees in his dreams — heck he looks almost nothing like the man in his head outfit-wise — but even so, Ingo knows instantly who that person is.
That is Ingo's little brother. His twin brother who is sobbing his heart out in the mud. And that is simply not acceptable.
Ingo is moving before he can even finish the thought.
He plunges straight into the river, eyes locked on his twin. It doesn't matter if he gets dirty or soaked, Ingo is going to make it to… to… Emmet. He's going to make it to Emmet even if it's the last thing he ever does.
A moment later, his brother's head snaps up. His eyes are wide with confusion and his face looks absolutely wrecked; red and puffy and covered in tears. It breaks Ingo's heart to see him like this. So much so that he can't help but call for his twin as he approaches the other side of the river. "Emmet!" He watches his brother's face morph and contort into several different expressions: disbelief, then sorrow, then a flash of anger, then… pure, unadulterated joy. And that's what does it for Ingo.
Tears spring from Ingo's eyes, his own sobs bursting out of him. "Oh, Emmet! There you are! I- I didn't think… I thought I'd never find you!" The words spill out of him before he can even think over the contents of them, but Ingo doesn't care. Because in the next moment, he's stepping onto the riverbank that holds Emmet and his twin is shooting up to his feet.
Ingo just opens his arms as Emmet slams into him, wailing into his shoulder. He's quick to wrap his arms tight around his brother, burying his own face into Emmet's shoulder too. His twin smells of mint and fresh laundry… and it has more sobs forcing their way out of him. The scent sparks so many tiny memories. Moments of shopping for toiletries, and folding laundry with his twin at his side, and playfully complaining about having to use Emmet's stuff when he runs out… Ingo cherishes each and every fragment he gets back.
He's brought out of his thoughts when Emmet sucks in a shaky inhale, then wails into his shirt. "Wwwhere- you… where?!" His twin's hands clench so tight in the fabric of Ingo's old coat that he's afraid it's going to tear. Ingo doesn't dare say a word about it though, instead rubbing his hand over Emmet's back to shush him.
"I'll tell you everything. I promise, I'll tell you everything I know." Because of course he will. Emmet is the only person in the whole world Ingo can tell anything and everything. Not telling Emmet every detail he has is just about as wrong as the sun being purple. Both of them know that.
Emmet's shoulders relax a little bit. "… 'Kay."
Okay. Right. Everything is going to be okay now. Ingo has finally reached his destination.
The whole camp was awake when Emmet eventually dragged his brother back to it, which honestly probably shouldn't have been as surprising as it felt. Their Pokémon — and probably some of the wild Pokémon too — must have heard the commotion going on at the river. Neither Ingo or Emmet were particularly focused on trying to be quiet, after all. And while he did feel bad when they first came back, Emmet is now glad they were already awake.
It's been maybe an hour since they arrived back at camp and everyone has settled down now. Emmet still feels a bit shaken and his hand is not going to be unraveling from Ingo's for a good long while, but he's calmer than he's been since he left Nimbasa. The Pokémon have also relaxed again too.
Lavender is perched in Ingo's lap where he sits next to Emmet on the ground; she's also not going to be leaving his side for a while. Alongside her is Ingo's Excadrill, who is only halfway in his brother's lap. Darling and Whistle have taken up residence behind Ingo, chattering quietly amongst themselves and occasionally reaching out to touch Ingo — probably to remind themselves that he's real. Mudball and Archie are sitting in the space in front of both of them, leaning against each other. Captain is draped over both of their shoulders while Thunderfangs is pressed against Emmet's other side. Emmet thinks he feels another Pokémon pressing into his spine, but he can't see who it is. Oh, and the newest addition to the group — a small purple Sneasel Ingo had called 'Ribbons' — is curled up in Emmet's lap, snoring away.
The rest of their teams are also nearby, just out of Emmet's line of sight.
Having everyone close like this makes Emmet really happy. Even if he can't see all of the Pokémon, knowing they're there is enough. It's warm at the campsite even though there is no longer a fire going. He feels content for the first time in what feels like ages with his brother pressed against his side and his head resting on Ingo's shoulder. Honestly, after all the excitement he'd just experienced, Emmet could fall asleep just like this.
And he almost does, slowly blinking as he starts to slip under. It's only when Ingo speaks up after a while that he's snapped out of his sleepy trance. "Emmet?"
Emmet opens his eyes and squints at the remains of the fire. "Hmm?"
There's a moment of pause, then Ingo sighs. "You mentioned before that you were here with our friend, yes?" Ingo shifts a little. "Do you think maybe we should call her? To tell her I'm back, I mean."
Emmet's eyes snap wide open and he sits up abruptly. He hears Ingo make a sound of surprise, but he pays it no mind as his head whips to face Ingo. His twin is staring at him with confusion in his eyes. "I am Emmet. Yup-yup! Definitely should. Fuck, should've called her an hour ago. She's gonna kill me!" She'd made him promise that if anything happened while he was camping that he would call her immediately. Something big happened and he's yet to call! Elesa will be verrry upset — he's losing his 'I get to choose the snacks' movie night privileges for sure!
Ingo bursts into laughter a moment later, throwing his head back. The sound is so shocking to Emmet that he actually jumps, but he recovers quickly. He glares at his twin as he punches Ingo's shoulder. "I'm verrry serious, Ingo! We're dead, yup!"
It takes a moment for his brother's laughter to die down enough for him to talk, but eventually he speaks. "Sorry, sorry. You just looked so devastated for a moment there!"
"I am devastated! Ingoooo she's not gonna let me choose movie night snacks for a moooonnth!"
"… I do not remember what movie night is, but I'm sure it won't be that bad, Emmet." Ingo is smiling his own special smile now, patting Emmet's shoulder. All Emmet can do is gasp.
Ingo doesn't remember movie nights? Well now he has to call Elesa. "Nope! We've gotta fix that. You need a good movie night, Ingo. Yup! I'm calling Elesa and she will agree with me." He's already digging into the pocket of his jacket before he's done talking, snatching his xtransciever from its hiding place. Emmet feels Ingo shrug against his shoulder as he focuses on unlocking his xtrans.
"I'll take your word for it."
"You'd better!" And that's where they leave it. Emmet opens his contacts and scrolls to Elesa's number, then wastes no time in clicking it. Both Ingo and Emmet listen to it ring a couple times before the call is picked up.
"What's up, Em? Is something wrong?"
Emmet can feel a wide smile spreading across his face. "Elesa! You'll never guess who I found…"