Every year, during the last week of November, the Gurdurr 11 played the Ole Boldores in a rivalry game called the Linking Pass. It wasn’t a major game by the public’s standards, but Iris had been a huge fan of the 11 since she was young, and was thrilled to have the opportunity to watch a match in person when she’d begun frequenting Nimbasa. It had become a fixed part of any given year: every family member who was physically able to access the Big Stadium would make sure to clear the day and attend with her.

Never mind that she was the acting champion and could more than handle herself, or that the only other person who could claim to have even a passing interest was Elesa and her eye for cheerleading routines. It was a tradition. Drayden had been prepared to argue that personal wellbeing came first-- which was why Lane wasn’t here leading a crusade against the stadium’s poor accessibility features, thereby egging her sons into an hours-long tirade on proper safety measures-- but when it came time to make plans, there had been no deviation from the usual.

Even over the minor din of a sporting arena, he’d heard the aside to Emmet about preparations for the following year. Then, as per the custom, the twins split off into their designated pairs: Iris and Emmet supporting the Gurdurr 11 and Elesa and Ingo for the Boldores with Drayden representing the neutral area between them.

That wasn’t a purely symbolic gesture. The first time they’d attended one of these games, Iris had been sitting next to Elesa and accidentally knocked her in the back of the head out of excitement. Ever since, Drayden had ensured that he took up a spot at one of her sides, both because he could take a hit better than the others and because he stood a greater chance of seeing it coming ahead of time.

As to Emmet on her other side… well, he knew what he was getting himself into.

One thing to say for the teams involved was that, unlike a great many rivalries, the Linking Pass had a fairly even win ratio; the 11 pulled ahead with a slight lead, but there was never an easy pick for which might win any given year, giving it an element of suspense to the greater portion of their attendees, whose only real interest in the event was making Iris happy.

This year, as time began to tick down, things were looking quite good for the Gurdurr 11, meaning Drayden had caught Iris’s flailing fist twice in the past half hour. It was somewhat normal, and also at complete odds with what was going on to his left.

He had been concerned when Ingo pulled the brim of his flat cap down over his eyes, but not outright worried; the twins were accustomed to crowds in a very specific context, and sometimes events like this could become overwhelming for them. Drayden hadn’t been alone in that conclusion, either, as Ingo himself had said it was just the lights and sounds making him dizzy. About five minutes prior, however, he’d moved from shielding his eyes beneath a hat to actively leaning against the seat’s armrest, head cradled in his hand.

A shared glance to Elesa on his other side confirmed that she was well aware, and she angled herself in, whispering something to him. In return, she got a subtle shake of the head and a restrained wave toward his water bottle. She frowned at him, and then it, and insistently pressed it into his free hand.

During a moment where Iris was utterly absorbed in the happenings on the field, but Emmet’s attention wandered, Drayden caught his eye, nodded subtly to his left, and signed, “He’s struggling.”

Emmet was too good at regulating his body language to let it show in a way that Iris might notice, but he tensed up, mild alarm clear in his expression, and silently asked, “How?”

“Dizzy and lightheaded; he says it’s the stadium.”

“Should I come over?”

The subtle communication paused as Drayden glanced over to assess the situation. Elesa had successfully cajoled Ingo into taking a drink, rightfully concerned about dehydration. “Not yet, we’re trying to take care of him.”

While far from reassured, Emmet accepted that, trusting their family with his twin’s well being. He glanced over occasionally to check in, and only relaxed when he found his mirror turned back at him; it had taken a bit, but Ingo was both looking and acting better. That was good. With fewer than ten minutes remaining, things were only becoming louder as spectators’ excitement built.

The Ole Boldores gave it a good fight up to the end, but just couldn’t overcome the Gurdurr 11’s lead before time ran out.

Iris’s celebration was exuberant and charming, but not at all suitable for stadium seating. It was a fixture every year the Gurdurrs won, and one they were prepared for. Grinning through an exaggerated devastation at the loss, Elesa called her over to collect her dues, intercepting an incoming high-five as they made a break for concessions.

Emmet at least waited until their backs were turned to start asking questions.

“It’s the lighting, that’s all. All the commotion didn’t help. I’ll be fine.” However, no sooner than Ingo said it, he got to his feet and promptly proved how misguided the thought was.

It was only due to decades of dealing with dragons, children or both at once that Drayden was able to respond quickly enough to keep him from falling as he went limp. A startled yelp sounded from Emmet’s direction and he lunged forward, trying to help steady his twin.

The lapse only spanned six seconds at most; by the time Drayden found a secure hold, Ingo’s eyes were open again, blinking as he tried to puzzle out what was going on.

“Ah.” He eventually hummed, realizing he was being settled back into the seat, “It’s alright. I can stand now.”

“No, you’re staying right here. You passed out just now.” Drayden asserted, keeping a heavy hand on his shoulder, just in case that wasn’t enough. He glanced to Emmet, whose nervous energy had, reasonably, skyrocketed. “Flag down an usher, if you would, and let them know we need a medic. Emphasize that it’s a serious concern, but not a life threatening emergency.”

It earned him a double-take as Emmet registered that it was directed at him, and then a short, frantic nod. Drayden could only hope that words hadn’t actually failed him, or that task would be made substantially more difficult. It would serve two purposes either way: giving Emmet something to focus on and simultaneously calling in someone with more expertise than Drayden possessed.

He knelt down to stay at eye level, preventing Ingo from looking up at him to speak.

What he did know was to keep a person off their feet after a fainting spell, to check them over for injury, and to encourage them to lean forward and lower their head to their knees. There were two little obstacles in the way of the last point, and the circumstances suggested injury wasn’t a factor, but he asked, just to be certain.

Ingo shook his head by the slightest amount. “It was no worse than before. I was a bit lightheaded after standing. Then I realized you were holding me upright.”

That was about what he had been expecting. “And you’ve been drinking enough?”

Ingo offered the aluminum water bottle as if to prove it. As much as Drayden trusted him to be honest, he was well aware that both twins sometimes underestimated their needs, so he accepted and gave it an experimental shake. As promised, he found it nearly empty, its remainder likely earmarked for the trip home.

It was at that point that Iris and Elesa circled back around, the former looking confused and the latter troubled to find them still in place.

“What’s going on?” Elesa asked, fingers hooked over Iris’s shoulder to keep her from rushing over.

Drayden regarded them for a second and then pushed the water bottle back into its owner’s hands.

“Finish that, and we’ll refill it before we leave.” He said, standing back to his full height and moving to speak with the girls, “He passed out for a few seconds upon standing; he’s uninjured, but it’s unwise to make any assumptions right now. Emmet’s gone to get a medic for a professional opinion.”

“Geeze!” Iris gasped, eyes wide. Her hands were only stilled by virtue of the fact that they were clutching a violently blue drink. “Are you okay?”

Toying uncomfortably with the water bottle’s top, Ingo nodded. “The lightheadedness is beginning to ebb. Drayden caught me before I could fall. I’m beginning to wonder if it wasn’t dehydration.”

“It… could be.” Elesa conceded, dissatisfied with her own suggestion now that the situation had developed further, it seemed, “But there’s a lot going on with you-- didn’t you say something about falling asleep at work awhile back?”

He ducked into the collar of his jacket, staring daggers at her over top of it. “Are you attempting to embarrass me into compliance? You haven’t even stated your demands.”

Elesa might have gotten a chance to voice them, had she not been interrupted by a surprisingly soft voice asking her to let someone by. She moved on instinct and Drayden could see the instant it caught up to her in the way she narrowed her eyes, making to speak out, but she pulled back as a second detail registered: the fact that this stranger was clearly marked as stadium medical personnel.

The third detail didn’t wait for or even ask that she move. He simply pushed past. Drayden wondered if he’d been right after all and Emmet was struggling with speaking, or if he just couldn’t be bothered by social niceties under the circumstances.

“Can you tell me what happened? I’ve been told the basics, but I’d like to hear from you.” The medic said, which all but confirmed that no, Emmet just wasn’t in the mood to be polite.

Embarrassed even though he had no reason to be, Ingo recounted his trouble with the sounds and lights throughout the last quarter of the game, but handed the explanation over to Drayden when it came to the primary concern, unable to account for the specifics by definition. The man crouched in front of him listened intently, checking him over and refining tests as necessary.

Ingo tolerated the poking and prodding with the patience of someone who’d grown up alongside a younger sibling, though his posture made it clear he was far from comfortable with being handled.

“It could be that you’re dehydrated,” The medic finally said, folding the blood pressure cuff back up, “But if I were you, I would look into getting your iron levels tested. Anemia is a common risk factor for pregnant individuals, and it’s known to cause most of the symptoms you described today.”

Emmet cocked his head and echoed, “Anemia?” to himself.

Meanwhile, his brother was more dubious. “I’m already taking the vitamins recommended by my physician. I know for a fact that they include an iron supplement.”

“You’re having twins.” Elesa piped in from the back of their lingering crowd, “That might make a difference.”

The man’s eyes flicked from her to his patient, and he smiled, giving the armrest a conciliatory pat. It seemed he’d picked up on the tension his check-up had caused. “Just do us all a favor and make sure, huh? No one wants a scare on the rails.”

Cheeks faintly pink at being recognized under these circumstances, Ingo stiffly inclined his head.

Just to be safe, they gave it a few minutes after the medic’s departure before making a second attempt to leave. Drayden was only vaguely aware of the slow conversation playing out in the meantime-- monitoring its tone more than its content-- and instead put the time toward figuring out how to handle the rest of the evening.

The twins were going directly home. That much was non-negotiable, and he doubted either would fight against it. The timing would be different than initially planned for, but his relative ignorance of the intra-city subway lines meant very little given who they would be traveling with; bumping their schedule up wasn’t going to be an issue.

The problem was that Drayden wasn’t entirely certain how to proceed from there. Would it be best to stay, to keep an eye on them until he and Iris had to return to Opelucid? Or would that be an extra burden on top of an already difficult day? Realistically, they were adults who could look after themselves, and his obligation was to see Iris taken care of, but they were still his sons, and therefore under his protection. It was a conflict of interests that he’d never had to consider before, the relative ages involved settling it before it began.

Ingo in particular had always been so reasonable that Drayden had rarely needed to step in where he alone was concerned. Things were somewhat different when it was a matter of the twins as a unit-- or rather, the twins being a unit was the rule from which all exceptions began-- but as individuals, Drayden had had more cause to worry after Emmet than the elder brother. For that norm to have shifted so completely on its axis was unprecedented.

Today’s incident worked its way deeper and deeper beneath his scales the more thought he afforded it, and with the phantom sensation of one of his children limp against his chest, he guarded his pack closely until they were safe at home.