Freshly kicked out the delivery room, Emmet bid a path toward the waiting area. He hoped nobody had gotten it into their heads that they had to be present-- they’d had an agreement, after all-- and a quick glance confirmed that he didn’t recognize those few faces in attendance so early in the morning.

With an internal sigh of relief, he course corrected toward the facility’s courtyard to go about fulfilling his end of that bargain.

...eventually.

It only made sense to give Chandelure and Eelektross the opportunity to stretch out and get some fresh air while he was here, and dealing with them first would maximize the time they had to do that. The hours sequestered in their pokeballs without a break were far longer than they were used to, and he wasn’t so heartless as to make them wait any longer.

There were ongoing debates as to how much of the outside world a Pokemon could understand while idle in their pokeball, but the general consensus was that they possessed an approximate awareness. It was common for a Pokemon to emerge when their trainer was in trouble or distressed, and if their senses were wholly locked away, there was no way they could know when they were needed.

Unfortunately, that likely meant that their partners were aware of some-- if not all-- of the laboring process.

Emmet was slightly surprised-- and quite impressed-- that neither of them had made an appearance as it became plain just how much discomfort Ingo had been experiencing. Maybe he had underestimated them when they demanded to be present.

Musings aside, they were more than ready to be let out, hovering anxiously within arm’s reach upon release.

It didn’t even occur to him that they were waiting on his go-ahead until he broke into a smile and the both of them swarmed him, vocalizing excitedly.

“The passengers have arrived.” He told them, one arm wrapped around an excitedly-writhing Eelektross, the other hand hooked over one of Chandelure’s limbs, “Everybody is safe. You will have to wait until we get home to meet them. But I am verrrrry proud of how you have conducted yourselves so far.”

Chandelure wilted, but perked right back up to cuddle up to him ever-so-sweetly, crooning to prove how nice and gentle a ghost she was, so surely he knew he could trust her around the babies…?

“Chandelure.” He said bluntly, pulling his other arm back so Eelektross wouldn’t become hopelessly tangled around it, “This is a hospital. Lampent have a reputation here. You will behave or I will send you home ahead of time.”

There was a sound like a teakettle warming up, which Emmet knew was a building tantrum at not getting what she wanted, but it popped strangely in this instance. After a second to parse it, he realized he’d received the ghostly equivalent of an impertinent raspberry.

“Verrrry mature. Perhaps you are also an infant?”

“Cha-aan.”

They stared at one another for a beat, the silent challenge an unintentional mirror of what had gone on before they’d left the apartment yesterday. Unlike the previous day’s argument, Eelektross’s allegiance had changed camps; he ducked under his trainer’s arm, taking to the air and coiling around Chandelure in an attempt to mitigate the disagreement.

With a huffing noise, Chandelure let out a burst of steam and turned, making a show of how much she was not looking at Emmet. Eelektross, head hooked over one of her limbs, warbled at him.

“Do not act like I have slighted you. You wanted to be present and I allowed it. I also warned you of this exact outcome.” With his arms free, he folded them over his chest. “You want to see for yourself that everyone is doing well. I understand. That is not what we are doing right now. Take this opportunity to get some fresh air.”

Slithering over Chandelure’s arm, Eelektross took the cue, stretching his body and slowly circling the courtyard. A vocalization from the far end caught Chandelure’s attention, and with one more targeted snub, she trailed after it.

With the both of them distracted, he had little reason to delay making a call.

That made it sound dramatic. He really didn’t have any reason to avoid it, but the prospect was… daunting. His own antics aside, it had been peaceful as just the four of them, intimate in a softer way than immediately after delivery. While he didn’t want to exclude their family-- and had no intention of doing any such thing-- he was hesitant to break that calm when he knew that it had been so hard won.

It would still be hours before any visitors were allowed, and they were scheduled to return home by tomorrow morning, after a full observational period. The peace would falter eventually, and it was best to ease into it.

Eyes on his Xtransceiver, he gave a sharp whistle of censure, and then winced at the way it bounced off of the walls in the otherwise silent courtyard. Reprimanded, Chandelure slunk away from the double doors. He sighed at the sight of Eelektross in his peripheral, creeping behind her.

Giving the both of them the stink eye over the device, he hit the call button on his Xtransceiver. It nearly made it to voicemail before Lane picked up.

“Emmet?” She asked blearily, blinking hard at her own Xtransceiver. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded, expression bright even if his voice didn’t carry it, “I am Emmet. I am here to report that everyone is present and up to code.”

She narrowed her eyes, sleep-addled mind trying to work through that. Briefly, he caught her attention landing over his shoulder, and then off of the screen entirely, to the guest-room-slash-nursery on her end, and her brain finally caught up.

In a prompt turnaround, her eyes went wide instead. “He had the babies?”

Emmet gave a curt nod, seeing nothing to add that he hadn’t already.

Lane pushed herself upright, suddenly awake, “How did it go? Is everyone okay?”

“I am here to report that everyone is present and up to code.” He repeated, unable to resist ribbing her a little. “No complications arose as per their arrival. I’ve been informed that further examination will be conducted within the hour to verify they are in full working order.”

“Okay,” She said quietly, more to herself than him, “And Ingo?”

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

He did.

“Present and up to code.” He said, yet again, “Seems grandma wasn’t paying attention. Maybe she should go back to her nap.”

“Oh ho,” The frown that had been twitching into legitimate disapproval wavered. “We’ll see how long you talk like that. A good nap won’t seem so funny when it’s your kids waking you up at 4:00 am.”

He had nothing to say to that, particularly given the fact that he was already monitoring a couple of children, attention drawn to the rustling of greenery behind him. Trusting his mother wouldn’t take offense, he half-turned toward the Pokemon. “Chandelure! Stay away from the windows! You will give someone a heart attack!”

She rocked in the air, whistling the same cadence as his scolding in mockery. The continued misbehavior might have been concerning had he not understood that it stemmed from a deep-seated love for her trainer, her desire to get back to him when she knew he’d been hurting, and the frustration at being told she couldn’t.

With any previous attempts at corralling the ghost ending in failure, Eelektross pulled out the big guns: he sealed his sucker to her globe and hauled her to the center of the yard.

Lane, lacking the context behind the sounds she was hearing, tentatively asked, “Where are you, dearling?”

“Outside,” Emmet said unthinkingly, only just tearing his eyes away from the pair-- just in time to see Lane toss her hand in the air, exasperated. He went on as if nothing had happened. “Outside of the hospital. Chandelure and Eelektross needed some fresh air. We had also promised to update you as soon as was reasonable on our end. This seemed like a good place to do so.”

Her mouth opened and then clicked shut as she thought better of her gut reaction. “That makes sense, I suppose, but I was hoping...”

“Ingo is not in a position to speak right now. He is trying to ensure everyone is on the correct tracks. They are remarkably good at not eating.” And then, sheepish, he confessed, “I made the mistake of laughing. He told me to go away.”

In all fairness, his twin hadn’t been mad at him, just flustered and slightly overwhelmed. According to Ingo, there were better things for Emmet to do than finding amusement in how incompetent their newborns were. This, for instance.

“Sweetie,” Lane said flatly, “If someone started snickering at me while I tried to get you to latch on, I would have slapped them. Be nice to your brother.”

“I was not making fun.” He insisted, mentally adding the caveat, ‘of Ingo’, but his mother’s half-lidded stare suggested she wasn’t buying it. Best to change the subject. What would distract her…?

“How much of the door did Durant consume?”

With an exasperated huff, she set her Xtransceiver down, leaving Emmet to interpret the sideways view of the nursery. He was able to puzzle out that she was reaching beneath the bed, and got an answer as to why that was just a moment later, when the picture became intelligible again.

Holding the offender up to the screen, Lane said, “The door is intact, but he’s been lurking under there all night. Your kids might end up having trouble with monsters under their beds.”

“Technically, that would not be an inaccurate assessment.” She’d been successfully diverted. Now to reroute so they stayed on course without revisiting that branch. “I will need to speak with Ingo before determining a good time for you to visit. He was in favor of it before. But that may have changed.”

She nodded along with the series of statements, tucking Durant somewhere out of frame-- and, in the process, revealed that she’d allowed Excadrill to sleep cuddled up to her. “Just follow his lead. If it’s late, that’s fine. If he’d rather wait until you get home, that’s okay too. Don’t feel like you have to humor us-- we’ll be happy to meet them whenever you decide it’s appropriate.”

“That decision has yet to be made.”

Quiet save for Excadrill snoring in the background, Lane spent a second weighing her options. “It was a hard labor, wasn’t it? They’ve settled down now, but your Pokemon were rattled when I got here, and that’s no easy feat.”

It wasn’t something he particularly wanted to discuss, but since she’d directly addressed it, he would answer. “By my inexperienced metric, yes. He said on multiple occasions that he was ready for it. But I know he was worried.”

Lane’s lips parted in a subtle hiss. “It’s tough not to be. At least he had you with him, hm?”

Emmet echoed the hum, unsure what else there was to say on the matter-- but, fortunately, Lane had to stifle a yawn into her elbow a second later, giving him an easy out. “This conversation could have waited until standard operating hours.”

“I wanted you to call,” She reminded him, though weariness was beginning to come through in her voice, “I don’t mind waiting to meet my grandsons, but it’s important that I know they’re here and that my babies are doing well. What happened to those safety checks of yours?”

“It’s also required that conductors meet a certain threshold of rest if they are on duty.”

“Someday very soon, you’re going to appreciate the ability to nap on command. It’s fine, I won’t have any problem getting back to sleep once we’re done talking.” Clearly. She was obviously struggling not to doze off right now.

It was so clear, in fact, that he said as much.

She flapped a hand at him, meaning indeterminate, “Okay, my little Noctowl, I’ll leave you to your nestlings. I love you all-- pass that along for me, please.”

He gave a curt, affirmative salute. “We love you too. I will keep you posted.”

With a vague, sleepy quirk of the lips, Lane lifted a hand in goodbye and shut her end of the connection down.