Twinkle, Twinkle
Summary: Emmet was just confused. What had that Pokemon been? And why was he in the middle of a blizzard now?
Is Ingo here?
Word count: ~2100
blankshippers dni, that shit's gross. Seriously. Get ahold of yourselves
How had he gotten into this mess?
One minute, Emmet had been staring out the window of the Gear Station, closing up for the night, and the next he was in the middle of a blizzard. He’d been minding his business! Checking security footage, ushering stragglers out of the Battle Subway, making sure things ran smoothly at the station. It had to have been-
Oh, yeah. He’d been lamenting about…
He had been gone for three years. Up and vanished one night, without a trace. He had just needed to check the subway for Onix. And then he was gone. Emmet had, of course, left no stone unturned and no car unchecked. Ingo had simply disappeared, as if he hadn’t even existed. All that was found was his Pokemon. Not even a body.
Emmet usually did his best to not think about it too much. The search had been called off over a year ago and while he still struggled to do things like eat and shower, he’d learned to mask it well with a brilliant smile and encouraging words. But there were these few teeny tiny times that he would let himself think of In-
Nope! Not right now! Emmet hugged his uniform tighter around him, extremely thankful for the thik coat and gloves. He held onto his hat with one hand, the other holding his coat securely around him as it whipped wildly in the wind. The snow blew directly into his eyes, his ears, his nose. He could see nothing through the sheer white.
He’d been thinking of him again. And out of nowhere, a small, cute Pokemon he’d never seen had shown up and it chirped at him and what did he say to it? He remembers it somehow asked him what he wanted most, though it never spoke. He’d just known.
What is it you wish for?
The Pokemon had been star-shaped, gold, white, and blue, with small tassels hanging from its pointed crown.
“I wish to find my brother and bring him home. He’s still gone. But he can’t be dead, he just can’t-”
Emmet hadn’t even gotten to finish his sentence before he was suddenly falling - no, suspended? - and with a thump, there was nothing but snow everywhere.
So here he was.
He trekked his way slowly through the snow, shivering violently. No shadows, no noise, nothing stood out against the roar of the storm. Emmet would love to even find a single wall to hole up against until the storm passed.
Had that Pokemon sent him here? Why here? Was it because In- he was here? Could Emmet find him? Was he okay?
The thought of Emmet’s dear twin frozen and dying in this horrible storm pushed him forward. He strode forward with more purpose, picking a single direction and sticking with it. It had to end eventually, right? “Full speed ahead,” he murmured under his breath. He would do his signature pose but he was more concerned with living at the moment.
His mind stayed on that track for what felt like hours. Find him. Find Ingo. Bring him home. It became a mantra, alongside his normal subway speech.
Emmet hadn’t noticed his legs were giving out until his face was suddenly buried in several inches of snow, his hat displaced from his head and his dress shirt soaking in the ice. The Conductor lay in the snow stunned for a good minute before he got the willpower to lift his head. It was just pure white everywhere. Nothing was nearby, nothing could be nearby. He was alone.
Emmet lay in the snow, his eyelids growing heavy and his body shaking violently. He curled in on himself, using his body to dig out a small hole in the snow and burrow a few inches down. At least the wind wasn’t buffeting him.
I’m sorry, Ingo. I wasn’t strong enough. I’ve reached my final destination.
Emmet was starting to feel warm, and that’s when he knew that he wasn’t going to be here much longer. He closed his eyes, occasionally allowing them to flutter open.
A crunch somewhere nearby.
Emmet whipped his head around sluggishly, sitting up as best he could. His fingers were frozen solid, unable to feel most of his appendages by now. He held onto his hat as he saw something other than an endless expanse of white.
A gray figure loomed a few feet away from Emmet. He couldn’t make anything out through the blur of the snow except that the shape was relatively humanoid in shape. It came closer to him, and Emmet thought he could hear a voice. It was hard to say, though. Emmet wanted to shout but had no energy left.
A second, much taller human-shaped figure appeared behind the first. Emmet wasn’t sure if they were here to rescue or kill him, but he didn’t really have much of a say anymore anyway. The first figure stepped ever closer. It much have been a ghost or ghost-type Pokemon, judging by the silhouette. It had two human legs, but its long clothing was absolutely shredded and destroyed, the head covering it wore was showing rips and chunks taken out of it. It came closer and closer, and Emmet could hear a voice for sure now. But he had to be hallucinating. This wasn’t real. He was already dead and this was his punishment.
The figure came forward enough that he could make out its face. Two piercing silver eyes seemed to glow in the storm, a frown permanently chiseled into his face. He sported a goatee, silver sideburns, and was missing his gloves. His ripped coat whipped in the wind, but he did not seem fazed. One hand was fixed to the brim of his tattered cap, almost as if he would tip it at the freezing man. He stared down at Emmet, unblinking.
“...unsafe! Dear passenger, join us to safety! All aboard, we must disembark or be behind on schedule!” A large Pokemon appeared behind the man. It looked like a Sneasel, if Sneasel came in Grepa berry flavor and was stretched vertically. It had massive purple claws, a long feather sprouting from its head, and a large basket slung across its back.
But Emmet was transfixed on the apparition in front of him. “Ingo.” The word was stolen by the storm. His eyelids, despite the surprise, closed lazily and reopened. The man - Ingo, it was Ingo - was bent over Emmet, his face very close. His eyebrows were knitted the slightest amount, which may as well have meant his eyes were popping out of his head. “Ingo,” Emmet managed. “I finally found you.”
He closed his eyes again and when he opened them he was being moved, in a lithe set of arms. Then he roused again and he was set on hard stone. The third time, he blacked out.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emmet woke softly, which is not something that has happened in literal years. It felt more like he was being coaxed out of sleep, slowly unpeeling the layers of his unconsciousness rather than simply leaving it. He was aware of something soft draping him, something warm to his right. As he slowly came to, he became aware of a voice somewhere in the echoing room he must be residing in.
The voice is what finally made his eyes flutter open. Above him was pure gray stone, the walls the same shade of rock. He must be in a cave. His body shivered aggressively. A covering was draped over his body, the warm glow of what must have been a fire lit mere feet away from him. From what he could see, there wasn’t much else in the cave. A single large wicker basket sat along the wall, a pouch strewn next to it.
The voice floated over to him again. There was only one voice, no responses. Emmet peeled himself off the floor slowly, making sure to keep the blanket over as much of his person as possible. His normal coat was gone, which unnerved him much more than waking up in a strange place with new people did. His hair was wet, his sideburns sticking to his face. He sat up and faced the fire, getting closer to its tantalizing warmth. As his eyes adjusted, he assessed the new platform.
Other than the aforementioned man-made items, there was a large pile of thick foliage piled in a ring far from the fire. Was that a nest? There were claw marks along the walls, illuminated by the dancing firelight. Long ones. The main area of the cave had a large tunnel leading away at an incline, which was likely the exit. Near the wall on the opposite side of the bags sat that large Sneasel-like Pokemon and-
“Ingo.” Both individuals snapped their heads up to look at him, previously having been focused on something in the Pokemon’s claws. He shivered violently. Emmet wanted nothing more than to run to his twin, hold him in his arms and never let him go. But he hardly had the strength to sit up. Ingo stood from his position, coming to the fire. His gait was uneven, his back hunched over. He held his hands behind his back as he walked, like a soldier. His eyes were glazed over. “Ingo, I…” Emmet sneezed. His eyes watered.
Ingo watched him intently. “I know you,” was all he said.
Emmet paused. “Well of course you do! I’m your brother!” Emmet summoned a smile to his face. He searched Ingo’s face.
He had large bags under his eyes. His frown had lines that were not there last time Emmet saw him. His eyes seemed slightly sunken into his face, his goatee unkempt. He just looked tired. Ingo was watching him just as intently. His haunted white eyes took in all the features that were mirrored on his own face. He said nothing.
“Ingo?” Emmet’s smile faltered. There was nothing in Ingo’s eyes. What had happened to him? How had he ended up out here? “Don’t you remember me?” There was a scary lack of recognition being shown by his brother. Was this really Ingo? Maybe it was a Zoroark playing tricks…
Emmet’s vision narrowed. He was too cold, but too hot, how racing heart sending tremors through his frail body. “This has to be a dream,” he murmured, “I’m going to wake up alone. With my Pokemon. And no brother in my apartment again.” Emmet began rambling to himself, rocking back and forth, still shivering. “I will go to work again. I will battle solo again. I will eat dinner again. But alone…” His breath was coming in fast gasps. So he did the best thing he could to calm him down, murmuring under his breath, “I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. I like Double Battles. I like combinations of two Pokémon. And I like winning more than anything else. I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. I like Double Battles. I like combinations of two Pokemon. And I-”
“And you like winning more than anything else.” Ingo’s voice cut through the haze of Emmet’s mind. Emmet looked up at him, his eyes wet. Ingo wasn’t looking at him, but somewhere on the wall. His eyes were alight. “You are Emmet. My twin brother.” At that, Emmet flung himself at Ingo. He hugged his legs tight as that’s all he could reach from the floor. Ingo’s arms came down and enveloped him. Emmet wailed loudly into Ingo’s shoulder, thick sobs racking his body. Ingo was shaking.
Neither of them said anything for a long time. Each twin simply clung to the other as if his life depended on it, because for all they knew, it did. Emmet was dimly aware of his body becoming warmer and warmer in Ingo’s hold and wet soaking into his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He smelled of outside, of rock salt and dirt and earth. It was almost like being home, except for the tinge of metal that usually clung to his brother.
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Ingo was here, he was alive. Emmet had been right all along. Ingo was alive and well. He could work with that. Things could get better now, they had to. He didn’t have to run the Battle Subway alone now, things would be better again. Nothing mattered because he had his other half clinging to him just as tightly. Ingo was murmuring something but Emmet couldn’t catch what it was over the roar of his thoughts.
“I missed you, Ingo. I looked everywhere for you. Please don’t leave again.” Ingo pulled away enough that he could look at Emmet’s face. He was sure he had his signature smile plastered on, as he always did (even without his control). Ingo was frowning, as he always did (even without his control), but Emmet could read his brother still. His eyes held not only tears in them but some emotion Emmet didn’t dare to decipher for fear that he may be wrong.
“I’m not switching tracks again without you.”
