Well beyond noon, Emmet found himself venturing out of the recovery ward to collect their mother.

He marched a familiar rhythm across the smooth tile floors, but the footfalls sounded all wrong: the wrong materials, the wrong shoes, the wrong number of footsteps. He tried not to get too wrapped up in it, but he was working on a limited amount of sleep and three cups of coffee since their phone call that morning. His attention was somewhat difficult to corral.

Not that things were going badly. It had been a Zap Cannon in the dark-- as he wasn’t legally one of Rael and Kari’s guardians yet-- but he’d been allowed to sit with the two as they rested post-check up, keeping them company while their birth father elected to become sterilized. He wasn’t sure if it had been cleared because the nurse on duty had recognized him as Ingo’s support partner or his identical twin, but it worked out and Emmet wasn’t complaining. It had kept him distracted until they’d moved on to the room they’d occupy for the next day.

At the same time, though, Emmet had his concerns. He hadn’t voiced them to his brother, unwilling to burden him unnecessarily, but as it so happened, his best source for information had just arrived onsite.

Lane was studying the directory when he found her, a large bag settled on her lap, and-- even though this wasn’t his rail yard-- it had been second nature to redirect and guide her. The sound of her chair moving with him helped sooth his anxiety somewhat, but unlike the greater portion of their direct relatives, he’d never been particularly talented at hiding what he felt.

“What is it, dearling? Has something gone wrong?”

He kept his eyes forward, pace unfaltering, “I have been told everything is normal. But I am concerned.”

“Can you elaborate?”

Could he elaborate? Yes and no. On some level, he was aware that this was simply the same fear from earlier finding a new way to star in his thoughts. He couldn’t chance it, though. As much as his rational mind had known that his twin wouldn’t pass, it still felt like a collision only narrowly avoided. He had to take every precaution, just to be sure.

“He cannot sleep. But he dozes off frequently. He did so in the middle of a sentence an hour ago. It does not last, even though he’s plainly exhausted. It’s worrisome.”

“It does sound a bit odd,” Lane conceded, though her voice betrayed no such concern, “But bear in mind that some doctors refer to the postpartum period as a fourth trimester. Things are still going to be pretty irregular.”

“That does not mean anything.” Emmet found himself saying, momentarily stuck on the incompatibility of the words ‘fourth trimester’.

Off to the side, he caught her shaking her head and adjusted course. She clearly wasn’t going to take him seriously if he got sidetracked.

“He has also been verrrry cold since just after they were born. For some time, he could not stop shaking. It is better now. But has not stopped.”

“That part is normal.” She said with a resolute confidence, “I know you’re just looking out for your brother, but it’s okay to trust the doctors. They see this day in and day out. Does anybody suggest you don’t know your subway routes? It’s the same principle.”

He bit back a frustrated hiss.

Lane paused, causing him to come to a stop a pace after the fact. “Emmet, sweetie, if you don’t believe that it’s routine when they tell you, please try to believe me. I promise you, I know what it’s like to deliver twins.”

He sputtered, thoughts ironing out into, “I know that!”

“Just a reminder.” She said, and continued on, even though she didn’t know where they were going, “It’s easy for both parents to forget things at this point in time.”

Mildly offended, he took point and didn’t speak again until they’d reached their destination.

As expected, Ingo startled back to awareness as soon as the door opened, looking completely out of it until his thoughts caught up several seconds later. It was specifically because of this inability to stay awake that the passengers remained in their little cots, despite a natural desire to hold them close; Emmet being present mitigated any risk involved while his brother remained so wobbly, able to keep an eye out and help steady a slackening arm. In his absence, though, it simply wasn’t safe.

Incidentally, he hadn’t been the one to make that call. He saw the logic in it and agreed, but Ingo had been the one to lay down the law on himself-- unwilling to make even a single compromise where their sons’ safety was concerned.

While it did nothing for the blatant undercurrent of fatigue, Ingo perked up at their arrival and shuffled upright again, inevitably to list back the next time he drifted. Cynicism aside, it was nice to see his excitement surface again, eager to show his accomplishments off.

Wordlessly, Emmet stepped around the foot of the bed, removing himself from Lane’s path, and headed for its opposite side. Their mother’s gaze trailed after, lingering for a second on the cots before turning toward her foremost concern.

Pulling directly next to the bed, she commandeered a hand that-- absent anyone to fuss with-- didn’t seem to know what to do with itself and, gently, said, “I hear you’ve had a big day, darling.”

“It’s been incredibly productive.” Ingo said in return, voice crackly on the first two words, but quickly evening out. He took a second to glance Emmet’s way-- ensuring that his brother was roughly where he’d anticipated-- and, from there, his attention naturally gravitated toward the boys.

Lane craned up, one hand braced on the very edge of the bed so she could boost herself and follow his line of sight. Wearing her own version of a smile, she sat back, satisfied for the moment. “Who am I meeting today?”

“This is Rael,” Ingo said, successfully moderating his voice, and reached to lay a hand on the nearer of the two cots, “Emmet is standing next to Kari.”

As if on cue, the latter child sneezed a perfect Sandile impression and, as a result, startled himself into wakefulness. In that moment, he truly was his father’s son.

It was probably a good thing Kari wasn’t remotely aware of his surroundings, else he would have realized the sound drew the entire room’s attention, with an exception for his still-snoozing brother.

“He’s fine.” Emmet assured his own twin, who looked as if he might go against orders and check if not for the twofold intervention: both in Emmet’s statement of fact and that Lane lunged to seize him by the bicep.

“Nope, you’re not going anywhere,” She said in a tone they hadn’t heard since they were substantially smaller. Tapping insistently at his wrist and the new application of Aqua Ring, she added, “This little guy is not failproof. Move too much and your body will remind you that you just pushed out the equivalent of two full-sized Lechonk.”

“You’re accounting for height, not mass. They’re substantially smaller than that.” Ingo tried, already distracted twice over, which said a lot for his current mental state.

Lane shook her head, and anyone outside of their family might have called her unsympathetic, “It doesn’t matter, that’s what it will feel like.”

“One of the nurses did compare it to being hit by a train.” Emmet said as an aside, the greater portion of his focus on lifting Kari safely into his arms, “For once, the joke was not intentional.”

“Emmet took those rather personally.”

“The jokes were more your speed, hm?” Lane teased, and ignored the look it earned her as the newborn was entrusted from one twin to the other.

“I can hardly say. My attention was on having the first of my Lechonk.” Ingo said, failing to acknowledge the wordplay. When he was satisfied with the hold he had on the baby, he pivoted the slightest amount so as to show him off.

Any further jokes stopped in their tracks as their mother lived up to her favored type, attention flitting from one son to one grandson. “Oh darling, he’s precious.”

He ducked his head for several seconds, trying to act like he wasn’t preening under the praise, but in his weariness, was doing an absolutely terrible job of it. It was a little funny to watch as someone who was usually so cool and collected when people complemented his skills went pink in the face. Emmet thought it was also quite sweet that it was so heavily dependent on the subject matter.

Guiltily, Ingo moved to hold Kari just the smallest amount tighter. “I, ah. I hope you understand. But I’m not ready for anyone else to hold them.”

Lane nodded along without missing a beat-- or even shooting a knowing glance in Emmet’s direction-- and pet once down his arm, trying to soothe that anxiety down. “Of course, sweetheart. You’re well within your right to ask that.”

“Please don’t mistake it for a matter of trust.” He went on, exactly as nervous as before.

“I’m not.” She said patiently, though there was a tinge of fond exasperation in her eyes, “Everything is very raw right now. They get to adjust to being part of the world, and you get to adjust to them being out in the world. It’s scary, but it doesn’t have anything to do with trust. I understand.”

Contemplative-- and likely off on a new mental tangent, from the look of things-- Ingo stopped to stare down, absently tracing a thumb over Kari’s rounded jaw.

“We must have been excruciating.” He said, apropos nothing, “Again, I… apologize.”

Sputtering, Lane drew back and gave him an incredulous look, which he failed to notice or respond to.

“Don’t apologize for that.” She said, and looked to Emmet for backup, but after that morning, he… kind of wanted to do the same. “I’m not joking, boys. How would you feel if one of your sons came up to you in the future and said he was sorry for being born? I know you’re referring to the process of it, but stop.”

“But you could not have had even a second to rest.” Emmet said, and at his betrayal, the animate half of Lane’s expression fell.

“Personally, I think that would have been worse; I didn’t have time to build any anticipation. A little extra pushing, and I got to lay back with both my babies right away.” She sighed heavily at the combined looks she got for it and shook her head, visibly changing their track. “Let’s reverse this, instead. Don’t apologize. Let me thank the two of you for refusing to go anywhere without one other.”

That… worked. Even as the only individual in this conversation who had never and would never give birth, Emmet supposed he could see the logic in it. In a strange way, it was even somewhat similar to Ingo’s hangup over paternity leave: stay consistently busy until it’s time to rest, and then rest well with the fruits of the very literal labor.

Funny that that mindset would stay consistent between them. The other similarities could be chalked up to being directly related, but that one was somewhat unique among the bunch.

Emmet only became aware of the fact that he’d zoned out-- staring vaguely at a still-sleeping Rael-- when Lane called his name, softly, but with an underlying urgency. As his head snapped up, he realized their mother had made a point not to encroach on the boundary of holding Kari, but was contributing in the way she was supporting Ingo’s arm as he unconsciously leaned backward.

“Ah.” Emmet said simply, and hurried over to intervene, “I am genuinely surprised it took this long.”

As he eased Kari from his brother’s lax hold, Lane gave the arm she’d been steadying a curious poke, tutted to herself, and then tried to shuffle the pillow further up to little effect. She waited until Kari had been deposited back into his cot before offering any proper commentary, though.

“That’s regular old ‘I just had a baby’ exhaustion, multiplied by two,” She declared softly once Emmet made the round trip to speak with her, “We’ll see about the other half of your concern soon enough, but for now, leave him be.”

“My issue is that he is unable to rest uninterrupted. Why would I knowingly interrupt his rest?” He asked flatly, and, without an answer to that, Lane moved away to retrieve the cardigan laying atop her bag. The intention was clear enough as she doubled it over twice, eyeing Ingo’s slump with a calculating eye. It was also massively hypocritical, and Emmet couldn’t let that slide. “You just said to leave him be. Follow your own advice.”

She froze and, chided, set the sweater onto her lap. It had been meant to help, he knew, but he was also very aware that trying to use it as a bolster would almost certainly wake his twin. Her optimism was nice, but he’d seen this play out plenty of times in the past half-day.

Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before Ingo jolted to attention. Coincidentally, he did so roughly six seconds before Rael hiccuped-- with an impressive volume for someone with such tiny lungs. By that point, however, the new father was already in the process of giving his head a shake, trying to clear the lingering drowsiness, so there was no arguing that it was in response to the sound.

“Okay, I see what you mean.” Lane said, eyes pinched in some combination of consideration and very mild amusement, “Ingo, sweetheart, can you tell us what woke you up just now?”

He pushed himself vaguely upright again, without so much as a hint that he was getting sick of repeating the process, “I’m… not entirely certain. Something felt out of place, I suppose.”

She hummed and, slowly, her gaze moved from his face to where his hands had moved to rest idly over the much shallower-- if still somewhat conspicuous-- swell of his abdomen. “Could it be the fact that your babies aren’t where you can feel them?”

“I—” He cut off abruptly, following her line of sight, and moved his hands away. Without any task for them, it looked incredibly awkward, and he looked quite uncomfortable under this attention.“I suppose that could be it.”

Their mother hummed her sympathy, “That’s understandable. It’s been a long time since you last slept alone, so it’s hard when those heartbeats aren’t there. Give me just a minute, okay darling? I think I know what might help.”

As she steered herself back to the seats behind them, presumably to dig into her bag for a second time, the twins shared a look. While her advice had proven helpful up to this point, the odds that she’d come prepared for this exact scenario-- when she hadn’t even known it was an issue until the trip up-- were incredibly slim.

Without any warning, Emmet felt something against the back of his legs, and he didn’t have the time to see what it might have been before he found himself bullied forward. Though just as startled, Ingo immediately reached out to keep him stable when he was given no choice but to brace a knee on the bed. A glance backwards proved that it was the solid weight of Lane’s Salamence doing what she’d always done best: herding her trainer’s wayward children to bed.

“How does this help?” Emmet asked and-- though he knew it was exactly what she wanted-- hastily boosted himself up onto the mattress’s very edge on both knees, avoiding a nip to the calf. Even if it meant he wobbled precariously, he could at least be certain that staying so far to the side kept Ingo from being jostled.

“Good girl, Salamence,” Lane whispered, recalling her before anyone could notice the breach of conduct; she filled the space herself so her youngest couldn’t back off, and, irritated, he pivoted to figure out how to get down without running into her. Where it was still holding him steady while he wavered on the edge, he felt the tremors begin to creep along his brother’s arm.

Lane shook her head and bumped a hand against the small of his back, “Ah, ah, you’re not going anywhere, mister. Babies may be off limits for napping with, but I have a hunch baby brother will help.”

The beds here were wider than labor and delivery, meant to keep new parents comfortable as they recovered and, most likely, give them room to bond with their new addition. That emphatically did not mean that it was a good idea to try to cram two adults onto one.

“It’s fine.” Ingo said as Emmet was winding up to argue. He lowered it to add, “Just humor her.”

...alright. That was reasonable enough. If his twin didn’t mind the intrusion and it would get Lane off their backs, there was no harm in allowing it for a couple of minutes. Once they’d granted her idea a fair chance, he could get up and give his brother some space.

Though he’d had no intention of asking for accommodation, Ingo had already seen the problem and gingerly moved to amend it, providing the room to lay comfortably enough without any sudden motions that might agitate his body. It did, however, leave the both of them just shy of direct contact. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't be an issue, but after enduring the physical trauma of this entire process, it seemed prudent to allow him his space.

His brother had already done so much work, and was being such a good sport on top of it; Emmet was going to figure this out so he could finally rest. For now, though, he stayed perfectly still, eyes roving over every visible member of his family, and taking up that small amount of the burden helped set him slightly more at ease.

“...she was correct. This is better.” Ingo admitted after several minutes had passed.

Emmet tilted his head as much as his position would allow. “Would you like me to stay?”

“If it’s no trouble.”

“Never.” He said, and made a series of small adjustments, starting with tugging the blanket up further over his brother’s form. Uncertainly, he inched a few centimeters away from the bed’s edge, and Ingo took that as an invitation to lean in, too, tilting lightly against Emmet’s chest. His eyes were already closed and he kept his head angled to listen.

It seemed Lane had been onto something in regards to heartbeats after all. Looking back on it, it made a certain amount of sense: if the problem was the absence of a familiar presence-- the passengers’-- then they represented an earlier example of the exact same phenomenon.

Emmet let the tension in his shoulders ease and leaned forward as well, his chin resting against the top of his twin’s head. Somewhere behind him, he heard the artificial snap of a Xtransceiver’s camera, and determined that wasn’t worth raising a fuss over.

Life was going to resume soon enough-- more hectic than it had ever been before-- but right here and now, he was content.