“Oh, now I know this is for real,” Elesa said as she crossed the apartment’s threshold; her hands were full, so in greeting, she nudged Emmet with her elbow, “You are not the usual doorman."

“I would have gotten up was I allowed,” Ingo said wryly from the next room over. The problem Pokemon were readily apparent even in the entryway: Excadrill and Archeops making a wonderful tag team as per usual. One was cuddled up to either of his sides, Excadrill resting her chin lightly on the swell of his stomach, Archeops with his head buried in a shoulder and one wing stretched out protectively. It was hard to tell if they knew what was going on, or if it was more of the usual.

Instead of heading that way, she made a path for the kitchen and deposited her bags on the table. It took a grand total of three seconds for Garbodor to peek in from around the corner, and she laughed, wiggling her fingers at it as a hello.

“I looked it up,” Elesa said after the poison type had determined that there was yet no garbage to be had and lost interest, “And high protein and carb meals were recommended, so I went to that teriyaki place by the theater. Lean meat and rice should be perfect.” To Emmet, she added, “The spicy one is yours.”

He nodded, murmuring a vague thanks. The understated reaction didn’t bother her; she knew his focus was better directed elsewhere and followed suit, herself, marching out to join the group in the living room.

Forearms folded over the back of the couch, she leaned in, “How are we doing over here, pops?”

“Nothing of particular note,” Ingo said, one hand carding through Excadrill’s fur, “Considering that it’s estimated early labor spans anywhere from twelve to nineteen hours in first time parents, it’s hardly a surprise. Only six have elapsed thus far.”

“So we’re looking to Kilowattrel some time. You’ve called the right woman.” There was a beat of silence as she heard her own words, “Speaking of--”

“Yup.” Emmet interrupted, “We called mom after we got home and Drayden thirty-eight minutes ago. We did not want to derail him at work. Not you though. You would have been insufferable about it.”

Without breaking eye contact, she leaned backwards and raised a hand to her chest, touched.

“Seriously, though, good. They would’ve been Vulpixxed if you left them in the dark.” Moving to alight on the arm rest, she pivoted, “So I’m late because I dropped by my place while the order was being prepared. I don’t know what all you’re up for, but movies seemed like a pretty safe bet, and I’ve had a few documentaries bookmarked for whenever you guys had the time.”

“Time is something we have in excess at the moment. I hope you’ll forgive me if I occasionally get up to walk around the apartment; it won’t be due to a lack of interest. I’ve just found myself unable to stay still for great stretches of time.” Excadrill and Archeops seemed pretty well settled in that case-- but, at the same time, she could see one ankle rocking furiously, trying to discharge some of that nervous energy without disturbing them. She wasn’t about to call Ingo on it, anyway.

“Whatever works to get you through this.” She said, earnest. Carefully, she found a spot Archeops wasn’t occupying and laid a hand on his far shoulder, leaning into speak in mock-confidence, “Excited?”

He breathed a rough-sounding laugh, “That’s one of many adjectives that applies at the moment.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Elesa said without thinking. The lapse would have been embarrassing under different circumstances, but the fact that she was safe from scrutiny here was the entire reason it happened in the first place.

She got up to dig through the bags, and, upon hearing rustling in the kitchen, Archeops woke up, immediately hurrying in. As an extra line of defense against a seemingly-ravenous raptor, she let her Emolga out, and they kept each other busy while she sorted out the titles she’d brought with her. They were mostly nostalgia bait from when they’d been teens or kids themselves, but she’d thrown in a couple of comedies, just to add some variety.

The group of Pokemon was joined several minutes later by a by a sleepy-eyed Excadrill, who climbed up into a chair and curled up, acting as if the commotion Archeops and the Emolga were kicking up simply didn’t exist.

As promised, she noticed Ingo pass by not long after, making the most of his newfound freedom.

While he was out of earshot, she pulled Emmet away from obsessively lining up her shoes with theirs to the kitchen’s most remote corner and asked, “Be real with me, how bad do you think this is going to get?”

“I… do not know.” He admitted with a visible reluctance, “He claims the contractions do not hurt right now. But I would not call them minor. I’m certain he’s strong enough to handle it. It would be nice if Arceus made it easy on him, however.”

It was said with his lips ruefully tugged back, aware Arceus would have no such mercy after the previous nine months.

She understood the confidence; if there was one way Ingo was going to approach this, it was to keep on pace until he reached the destination. He would pull himself through no matter what toll it took on him, but that didn’t mean it had to be a challenge. Emmet had a point; if ‘Almighty Sinnoh’ wanted the passengers to exist so badly, it really ought to ease up.

If it wouldn’t take mercy, though, they would just have to do what little they could in its stead.

“We’ll get him through it.” She promised, reaching up to muss his hair. To cover their conspiring and to put a distraction in place, Elesa moved to the threshold between the kitchen and living room; spotting her friend down the hall-- lingering by the open nursery door-- she hollered, “Hey Ingo, The Dark Gem or Iron Fist Golurk?”

He startled, which hadn’t been her intention at all, but composed himself almost immediately afterward, turning to make his way nearer, “What criteria am I judging them on?”

She sighed internally-- fondly-- and outwardly blew that familiar exasperation upwards into her bangs. “Your category is ‘how much do you want to watch this movie?’”

“Ah. Either one will suffice; I’m not terribly picky.”

“You’re not giving me much to work with here. Hocus Pokemon? Falinks in Wonder Room?”

They landed on Hearthome Bound, which really drove home how much it wasn’t personal when Ingo got up to pace halfway through. Unlike before, he kept the circuit limited to the living room so as to remain a part of things. It was a nice gesture.

As it turned out, it was a good thing she’d never thought negatively of the behavior, because roughly twenty minutes from the movie’s end, Elesa's Xtransceiver pinged. Belatedly, she raised a hand to stifle any further noise whilst sneaking a peek at whatever had triggered the alert. When the content registered, her eyes flicked upwards, back to the twins; while both had glanced her way, anticipating whatever she might have to say, neither had moved to check their devices or, indeed, even gotten a message.

“Should we pause?” Emmet asked, and Elesa immediately denied the offer.

“Nah, this’ll only take a Parasecond, no need.” And the extra noise would cover whatever conversation she was about to have. It was a minor miracle the update had reached her via social media instead of any official channel, thus avoiding signaling to either of them, and she wasn’t going to squander that.

With some doing, she extricated herself from Durant’s iron grip and maneuvered down the hall. Just to ensure some privacy, she stepped into the nursery, then dialed not the station’s business line, but one that would get her in immediate contact with one of the agents.

When Josh picked up, he looked incredibly guilty. “Good evening, Miss Elesa.”

“Evening. Things, ah, not going so well over there tonight?” She asked, her mounting concern beginning to plateau at the air of annoyed consternation she’d been met with.

“It’s been dealt with.” He claimed, defensively looking off to the side. In the background, Elesa thought she heard Cameron say something, and Josh’s posture stiffened. His attention eased back toward the screen, shoulders raising as he dipped his head, “Since you’re the one calling, they-- they don’t know, right?”

“Call ‘em a pair of Woobat, because they’re Unaware.” She quipped, “Be real with me though, Josh-- a herd of Bouffalant?”

“It was two.” Josh insisted, shoulders raising to roughly ear-level, “And Ramses got them under control right away. I’m not sure how they were supposed to factor into the busker’s act, but we asked him not to come back.”

“They probably had Soundproof. It helps redirect the music where the artist wants it to go; Bouffalant’s a pretty shitty choice for performing in the subway, though.”

Again, Cameron spoke from off screen, and Josh’s cheeks darkened at whatever it was. “How’s… um...”

“If Cameron wants to ask a question, he can come over here and ask it himself.” She said, taking pity on him; while many of the agents had been excited about the passengers, there were those who weren’t sure how to address the situation, and Josh was chief among them-- not due to any ugly personal beliefs, but because it was, by nature, an awkward subject, and he an awkward man.

Josh gratefully shuffled away, handing the conversation off to Cameron. “Cloud said the bosses officially went on leave today. Is everything okay?”

Without meaning to, Elesa glanced over to the door-- which, of course, didn’t offer any insight into what was going on in the living room. “Everything’s fine. This kind of thing is pretty Slowbro-ing, so don’t get too excited yet, but I’m sure you guys will get an update when there’s one to give. I can say good luck for you if you want, though.”

“Better not,” Cameron said after a hesitation, “One of them would only ask why you called us, and I don’t want to have that conversation. It’s already bad enough that an incident occurred so soon on our watch.”

Quirking her head to the side, Elesa offered him a sympathetic smile, “Like Josh said, it’s taken care of. What do you think would have happened if they’d been there? Best case scenario, Emmet would battle them on the platform, worst case scenario, Ingo would’ve gotten involved.”

Cameron laughed a little, sounding mostly unconvinced, but didn’t raise a fuss. “Well, I’m still on the clock, so I should get back to work. We’ll make sure there’s no more funny business going on in the meantime.”

“Why don’t we make a deal? You corral the public, I’ll corral your bosses.”

“All due respect, Miss Elesa, you gave yourself the harder job.”

She snorted, “You know what they say, ‘do what you Luvdisc and you never Work Up a day in your life’.”

While Cameron’s reaction wasn’t as heartfelt as Emmet’s would have been, Elesa preened at the sigh the man bit back. “Anyway, I’ve got to get going. Hope everyone has a good night.”

“Likewise.” She said, and the connection died.

Cracking the door open revealed that, in spite of her request, the movie was frozen on a single frame. That wasn’t to say it was silent, though, because, the further down the hallway she drew, the more clearly she recognized the sound of hot water churning in an electric kettle.

That was alright, then. Taking a break for a drink was probably a good idea.

Elesa hadn’t meant to sneak up, but it seemed her approach was quiet enough that it hadn’t warranted notice over the boiling water. The twins were, as usual, stuck beside one another-- Emmet with his back to her and Ingo facing the counter-- and it took her a second to realize what was going on.

She’d noticed Ingo tensing up several times over the course of the movie, but had thought it kind-- if not necessary-- to avoid drawing attention to the fact. The whole idea was to keep his mind off of labor, and stopping everything to ask after it wasn’t just rude, but would completely defeat the point.

Right now, however, there was little ignoring it. His eyes were shut and, with both hands braced against the countertop to keep himself stable, he took meticulously consistent breaths in and out. Next to him, posture uncertain and unhappy, Emmet repeatedly pet down his forearm. In the dark, it had been possible not to see the extent of it-- possible to think that maybe the sensation wasn’t so bad and would remain mild throughout-- but the truth of the matter was cast in a harsh light.

Silently as she could manage, before the obscuring noise of the kettle ran out, she continued past and headed to take up her position on the couch, where her Emolga promptly met her.

Much as she loved them-- and as much as they did help, the way they snuggled up under her chin, headbutting her for attention-- she couldn’t help but remember the conversation the three of them had in the security room, just after the Plasma resurgence.

The passengers had reached Emolga-size weeks prior. It had been a shocking thought at the time-- if, maybe, a little cute-- but in this context, it made her shudder.

Part of her insisted that there had to be some way she could do more to help, but it was a short-lived ideal. She was already doing what she could: providing companionship, distraction, and the occasional reminder to eat while he still had an appetite. And by Zekrom’s vision, she was going to tend to those responsibilities for as long as she could.

She just hoped it would be worth it in the end.