“This certainly feels familiar.” Drayden rumbled, a baby cradled in the crook of either rock-steady arm. “I’m not convinced I haven’t gone back in time.”

Where Ingo seemed happy to watch from his spot in the nursery’s corner chair, trusting their family would be gentle, Emmet was filled with a somewhat more frenetic energy. He knew there was a greater chance of Arceus personally apologizing than that Drayden’s arms would so much as quiver while he held the two, but something in him vibrated at permitting even that most infinitesimally small chance. It wasn’t lost on him that, while Ingo had finally found peace in letting others hold their sons, he’d decided to try that anxiety for himself.

“Hm, can’t have done.” Lane said conversationally, ushering Galvantula out the door it had been trying to sneak through, “You haven’t caused either to start screaming his poor little head off yet.”

Cross legged on the rug near the corner, Elesa snorted, “Please don’t. Personally, I don’t want to find out who inherited their dad’s lung capacity.”

“That’s not genetic,” Ingo put in, subconsciously sitting up straight-- only for Iris, perched on the chair’s arm, to nudge him back down, “It’s the result of hours upon hours of practice to ensure one is heard over the rush hour traffic. Put shortly, it’s a very specialized skill.”

“Yeaaaah, no. I have video from a decade ago that proves you came by it naturally.”

“You had said you deleted that.”

“Oh, honey, and you believed me?”

Having successfully worn Drayden down by way of making disapproving faces, Emmet turned away with his prize. Red blanket, red hat. That meant this was Kari. With his back to him he missed the way the contrite furrow of their uncle’s brow immediately smoothed out to become amusement and the how the newly-freed hand moved to his chin, as if his shallow quirk of a smile wasn’t already well camouflaged.

That said, the way he was angled, Emmet had a perfect view of the mildly annoyed slant to his brother’s mouth. In the interest of subverting it, he hurried over and deposited the baby with his other father.

“I know what you’re doing,” Ingo grumbled, but didn’t bother to act counter to it as he moved to accept Kari. Emmet decided that was a tacit approval. Clearly they were on the same page. As it was meant to be.

Preoccupied as his twin was, the only indication Emmet might have had that something was awry could be found in the flickering of Iris’s attention, which briefly landed somewhere beyond his shoulder before returning to the little boy next to her.

Emmet squawked as something solid wrapped around the middle of his back. The points of contact were relatively few and mercifully brief, and before he could completely process what was going on, he’d been hoisted over Drayden’s shoulder.

“It’s a bit harder than it used to be, I’ll give you that much.” Drayden mused, but in spite of the words-- and just as Emmet had posited earlier-- there wasn’t so much as a tremble in the arm holding him hostage.

Using this new vantage point to stare reproachfully at Lane-- who, to his relief, was supporting Rael’s tiny form in her brother’s stead-- Emmet said, “I was already at my preferred elevation: none. Why are you both so determined to increase it?”

“Oh? You didn’t need a little pick me up?” His mother asked innocently, hands moving on autopilot to adjust the blanket’s edges. Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, her lips twitched futilely, “Not exactly fair that you can tote your brother’s kids around all you want, but my brother isn’t given the same luxury."

“I am one of their fathers. They are also immobile unless acted upon, where I am perfectly capable of locomotion without assistance.” To Drayden, he addressed an ultimatum, “I would like to be on the ground. I will make that happen if need be.”

With a snort, Drayden relented, “Another time, then; I can’t exactly prove the point if it’s just you I’m lifting.”

“Don’t.” Emmet said sharply, and where it could be difficult to tell when he was acting in good humor through his flat affect, it was perfectly evident when he was completely serious. He remembered how he’d ached after his ligation, and didn’t want to imagine what kind of signals Ingo’s body had to be giving him right now, even weeks after the fact.

“I do have a shred of common sense, Emmet; I’m hardly about to start hauling around a man who’s still recovering from childbirth.”

At this, Elesa chimed in, activating her Xtransceiver, “I meant to ask-- I know their birthday is the 31^st, but you said they’re on either side of 2:30, right?”

“Yes.” Ingo said, showing no sign that he’d noticed any of the indignity Emmet had just suffered. That was gratitude for you.

Regardless of his sibling’s pointed indifference, Emmet went to collect Rael before Lane could teach him any bad habits-- or worse, make him think there was anything worthwhile about being up in the air.

Elesa nodded and tapped several times, then squinted at something on the display. Eventually, she said, “Yeah, I don’t know enough about horoscopes to understand this. All I’ve got is that they’re March Whimsicotts. I’ll ask Caitlin another time.”

As he rescued his blue-swaddled son, Emmet forced himself not to provide any commentary on that track. It was all in good fun, he knew. He also knew there wasn’t a lick of truth to it, but since when had that stopped anyone from believing in utter nonsense? All the skepticism in the world didn’t stop people from observing that they were Lampents and one of their aces was a Chandelure-- which didn’t mean anything. There were twelve Pokemon in the Unovan Podiac, and every human fell under one of those umbrellas. Out of the 155 species native to Unova, there was going to be overlap-- which was to say nothing of the fact that they also had two Klinklang, a Haxorus and a Crustle, but didn’t fall under any of those signs. It was not preordained. It was math.

Silently, he struck Cottonee from the list of potential starter Pokemon.

“You never said which one’s which,” Iris said, dragging his derailed train of thought back onto the tracks.

“Yes we did? The baby in blue is Rael. Red is Kari.”

“I know that-- I meant who’s older?”

And there the switch flipped, unrecognized by any of those unfortunate family members gathered around. The both of them purposefully avoided looking to one another, so as not to tip anyone off and, with a feigned disinterest as he adjusted Kari’s hat, Ingo said, “I’m not certain I understand. They’re twins.”

“Well yeah, but there’s still a big brother and a little brother, right?”

“Who’s to say?”

Iris glanced between him and Drayden, as if looking to her guardian for clarification, and upon finding none, said, “...you?”

There was a beat of silence and, as what was happening clicked, Elesa buried her face in her hands.

“It’s okay!” Emmet broke in, “Many people fail to understand how twins work. We have had to explain it verrrry frequently. Better late than never.”

Without bothering to come up for air, Elesa spoke through her fingers, “And we know how you work, specifically. Are you seriously pulling this?”

There was a simultaneous questioning noise as, without consulting one another, they tilted their heads and looked at her. That was a nice touch. They hadn’t even rehearsed it ahead of time.

“We’re not playing any kind of joke; that would be horribly cavalier. We’ve just decided that such designations are irrelevant.”

That was the angle he was going with? An odd choice, and not the exact truth, but Emmet guessed he could see his brother’s logic; the initial request would seem-- and had been-- rather pointed, so it was little wonder he’d chosen to soften it. It was close enough to what they’d discussed that the odds were good Emmet wouldn’t accidentally bring down the single row of cards if he misspoke someday.

Judging by the confused looks, nobody had any idea they’d inadvertently contributed to the actual reason for it.

“If you say so, I guess.” Iris said, shrugging it off, and combined with Lane’s halting “I… suppose I can see where you two would think that...” the matter was dropped for the time being.

It would, undoubtedly, rear its head again at a later date.

Elesa made a throaty, dissatisfied noise, but, since several others had decided against arguing, let it be. She craned up to fold her arms over the vacant side of the chair, chin resting on her wrist, and spent several seconds studying Kari.

“You can hold him, if you’d like,” Ingo told her, and immediately shot a challenging look in Emmet’s direction. Why he’d bothered was beyond him. Emmet’s arms were already full, and he could only relocate one infant at a time. “They’re no heavier than a Sewaddle.”

Elesa hesitated, but eventually scooched closer and held her arms out. She had to boost herself up onto her knees to receive Kari, and lowered herself gradually, with all the poise she’d spent her years cultivating. One of her hands cradled his cheek, long, elegant fingers extending well past the top of his head and curling over to match its curve.

The noise he made in response was incomprehensible, little more than testing his ability to produce sound. Elesa raised a brow, but the subtle twitch of a smile was charmed.

Carefully, holding Rael secure against his chest, Emmet seated himself next to her in stages, mindful to keep his back straight and his son steady. Given this opportunity, she studied the second brother in turn, eyes turning from one baby to the other as her engine began to fire.

Eventually, she looked to Ingo and said “How the fffff--urfrou?”

He held the eye contact and-- expression well and truly blank-- said, “Believe me when I say you do not want to know.”

That seemed to be all the answer she needed. She grimaced and hastily looked back down. Emmet’s attention didn’t stray quite so quickly-- he already knew, after all, and didn’t have to rein his imagination in-- and so he caught it when Iris leaned over the bulk of the chair to look at both. A tap to her hand caught her attention; she blushed, an apology on her lips, but it was followed by a muted, “Go see them.”

With her typical enthusiasm, she leapt up from the glider-- ignorant to the sharp hiss the jostling incited-- and dropped to her knees on its opposite side. In direct response, Drayden issued a serious, albeit gentle, warning for her to tone it down-- to which she dipped her head and conspicuously didn’t jerk it back up as she nodded, taking the reminder very seriously.

Behind her, Drayden crossed the room, moving to confer quietly with Ingo.

Emmet resolved to keep an eye out for whatever that was about, but, for now, focused on what was happening in his immediate vicinity. Iris shuffled nearer to his side, looking between the infants with a similar intensity to Elesa’s.

“They’re identical, too?” She asked, lowering herself into a more comfortable position than what she’d used to crane up and scrutinize Kari. For now, her attention returned to Rael, seemingly trying to confirm her own question.

Emmet shifted to address her more plainly and, perhaps, give her a better view of the boy. “They seem to be so far. But fraternal twins can look verrrry similar, too. It will be some time before we can be sure.”

There wouldn’t be any functional difference, of course-- save, perhaps, for any attempts to masquerade as one another when they were old enough-- but Emmet almost hoped for the latter. While he didn’t have any personal issue sharing a face with his brother, the repeated need to clarify who was who became grating quickly, and it could be annoying to be treated as the same person due to that resemblance. Ostensibly, the Unovan custom of dressing twins in monochrome was to honor the twin heroes, but the color coding did do wonders where identification was concerned. There was a good chance it was more practical than people liked to admit.

...was it strange to think that he kind of missed being part of a perfect reflection, in spite of all that? He hadn’t had to identify himself outside of uniform for roughly half a year, and while there had been a certain novelty to it, he didn’t like the change. Things would find a new equilibrium eventually, he knew-- perhaps not exactly what it had been, but similar in all the ways that mattered. He just had to wait and be patient-- and also remind his brother to be patient as he spent the weeks recovering.

With a suspiciously perfect timing, a brief wave caught his attention, and Emmet angled his head subtly to the side, glancing up past the glider’s arm.

There was little point in signing for privacy in a room of people who knew how to communicate with them when they went nonverbal, but since Ingo had his hands free and it didn’t draw quite as much attention, that was precisely how he chose to say, “Sorry. I need to lay down.”

Emmet briefly locked eyes with him, serious, but then rolled them instead of signing back that he shouldn’t bother apologizing. His hands were full and he knew Ingo would get the gist.

That was to be expected. Sitting was miles better than standing, but it was still adventurous for this stage of the healing process. Today’s little meet and greet wasn’t meant to be an extended social event, anyway, it was just to introduce family members to one another.

Still somewhat miffed at their parents’ conspiring, Emmet chose to lead Iris through the basics of holding an infant and transferred Rael securely into her arms, trusting her and Elesa until he was able to return and watch over the younger twins. By the time he’d done that and gotten up, Drayden had already stepped in to help Ingo to his feet.

“There we go,” He rumbled, mindful not to lose contact until Emmet took over for him, at which point a hint of levity returned to his tone, “That settles it. The both of you shouldn’t be any problem at all.”

“Try it.” Emmet hissed as they slowly made their way past, “I will scream.”

In the background, just before they passed the nursery’s threshold, he heard their mother say, “I don’t know what you were expecting; you had that effect on him the first time around, too.”

The door eased shut, and he had to steer the both of them around Galvantula as she sulked in the hallway. Her many eyes trailed after them, but she stayed put, recognizing what her people needed in the moment.

“Just tired? Or does something hurt? More than usual.”

“The sudden stop derailed me, I’m afraid.” That was unfortunate, but the noise he’d made at that point had suggested as much.

“Hm. Well. We’ll take care of you.” Emmet declared, and shouldered his brother’s door open. He didn’t bother with the overhead fixture-- he’d just be shutting it off in the next few minutes anyway, and the light leaking in from the hallway was plenty to work from.

That was to say nothing of the room’s most noticeable occupant hovering demurely at her human’s headboard. Watching as Emmet helped his twin ease back against his bed, Chandelure gave a soft trill, which served to alert the other Pokemon present. It was all remarkably familiar, considering the way she cuddled up against Ingo’s abdomen-- though this time, instead of detecting new life, she was using her abilities to help soothe the ache away.

Not to be forgotten, Eelektross oozed his way out from under the bed and wriggled on top of the blankets. Under the weight of three separate sets of eyes, Emmet had little choice but to seat himself amongst them, if only for a few minutes. Ingo took his twin’s hand and finally laid back in full.

Neither of them said anything. There was no need.

For this short moment, there was only the buzz of their loved ones the next room over, the crackle of a healing fire, and the comfort of his brother next to him.