noterminalcalledend | (no subject)

(no subject)

[One day in Unova, the sky opened up.

And dropped out a muppet of a man in tattered conductor's clothing. He hits the ground amid a crowd and instantly a lot is going on. Some people rushing to help him up, to check for injuries. Some calling the police. Some recording the rip in the sky.

And others recording the man, tweeting out that amazing thing that had just occurred.

holy shit a guy fell out the sky

ITS RAINING MEN?! HALLELUJAH???

I can't believe my theory that Ingo was buried in a landfill has been proven wrong like this #FindIngo #FoundIngo???

@ TrueCrimeRoyals TOLD YOU HE WAS ALIVE DUMBASSES

@ SubwayBossEmmet please see this

@ SubwayBossEmmet YOUR BROTHER WWAS FOUND

Somewhere, Emmet's phone is screaming with notifications and calls]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ With a grin, he pulls out his key and unlocks their door. ]

Here we are.

[ And . . . everything is probably mostly as Ingo remembers it in their apartment. It's clean, for one, though it helps that Emmet has clearly hired someone to come every couple of weeks to do so. At least there aren't any alarming piles of trash or anything. The refrigerator is pretty sparse, though; the pantry isn't much better. Furthermore, many of the photographs are either flipped over or turned down.

Ingo's room is exactly the way he left it, though it's very clear that it's also been included in the weekly cleaning, so it's not like it's accumulated dust or anything. Emmet's door is shut tight, and he makes no moves to open it up. ]

[oohhhh

he can't reach all the pictures from his wheelchair but. Every one he can reach, he's reaching for as they pass to face them forward. Each time revealing to himself a distant past memory of a happy moment.

In his room, Ingo reaches for his pokeballs, pulling them into his lap though not releasing them yet

but when they don't veer towards Emmet's room? Taking control of the wheelchair, rolling himself over and reaching for the door]

[ Emmet, not being in a wheelchair, is much more mobile and therefore able to scramble ahead of Ingo, placing himself bodily between his brother and his door. ]

Is it a trash heap in there, Emmet?

You'll never know.

Show me your shame.

No one needs it in their life.

[trying to reach around Emmet]

This is now my mission.

— really, Ingo, you don't have to.

[ trying to block. ]

[trying to push Emmet aside, rough housing like the old days

And we now come back to the reliable old Ingo Is Injured dance. This is a tale as old as time.

Which is to say Ingo's determination to not appear injured has made a fool of him and]

Oh ow.

[folding over in the chair holding his chest

This would be more alarming again if this was not the Ingo is Injured playbook

He did it again]

Ingo . . . !

[ It shouldn't be alarming, but also, his brother has literally been gone for years and just got back and he loves him very much, so. ]

Just— stop, alright? Fine.

It's fine I am fine.

[going to stay folded up though, waiting for the wave of pain to subside

He can look later]

[ Emmet sighs, pushing his door open. ]

Here.

[looking up to look in without straightening up]

[ So here's the thing. There is not, in fact, a garbage pile.

Emmet's bed isn't made and his laundry is getting full, yes, but it's not a total disaster zone. It just looks lifeless in there in comparison; whoever's been cleaning the other rooms hasn't touched this one. The pictures, like in the rest of the apartment, are turned over and a sheet has been thrown over his full length mirror in the corner, which was then also turned around to face the wall. There's piles of mail sitting on his dresser — letters from across the globe, from research centers in Alola to a few from the Orre region to even letters addressed from the international police.

It's very dark and it's very sad. And clearly the only use it's had in the last few years is someone coming in to sleep, get changed, and then leave again. ]

...

We're going to freshen this room up when I'm feeling better.

You've been sleeping at the station. Haven't you.

. . .

Yeah.

Bad for your back.

We're scheduling you a check up. If I have to see the doctor so do you.

Fine. I will look into scheduling something for when you have to go back in.

You haven't had a checkup since I've been gone, have you.

Have you been eating enough?

[sitting up straight, reaching to poke his brother's belly]

Your health is important.

[ He is skin and bones. ]

I— I am fine! I did not need to see a doctor, so I did not. I have been eating.

We need takeout so bad.

[trying to wheel himself to the living room but having trouble turning]

I'm stuck.

[ Emmet pushes him back to the living room. ]

We can order delivery. I also have groceries coming in in about an hour.

I'm so hungry...

Thanks, Emmet. You've really...

You can let me start helping more, you know.

[ wheeling him over to the couch so he can slide onto it, sitting down himself. ]

And do what? You still do not have a phone. [ he pauses, considering that. ] . . . though you do have a tablet in your room.