Ingo didn’t accomplish very much on his first day back at Gear Station. While back at work, he wasn’t necessarily back to work; this was just a day to check in, in person, before resuming those duties he could perform via telecommute.

It had been tricky to find the right timing to return to his job; too soon, and he risked negatively impacting not only Kari and Rael, but also his physical health. On the other hand, Ingo would go stir crazy if he didn’t have some form of interaction from outside the apartment. After a great deal of debate, this had been the end result: a period working from home, so he could care for the boys when they needed him, but still contribute to the station’s upkeep. After this stage, he would move on to half a day at work, running one of the Single Lines on an alternating basis, and continue to do part of the job electronically. Eventually, he would return full time-- but without the baseline that this first phase set, they didn’t have any estimation when that change would take place.

That was thinking ahead, though, and it was best to take these things one step at a time.

As well received as the passengers would have been, it seemed very early to introduce them to an environment so hectic as a subway station, which was to say nothing of the potential for illness. While they endeavored to keep the facility clean, there was nothing to be done for the people who passed through, and no one wanted to risk the boys’ health like that.

It was harder than Ingo had expected, to leave them for the work day. He knew they were perfectly safe under Lane’s care, but he’d never been apart from them for more than an hour or two, and he found a sudden anxiety in it-- enough that he hesitated as they were exiting the apartment building. Emmet had taken him by the shoulder and urged him onward.

"You have been anticipating this for weeks." He reminded him, adding a tiny bit of force to the supportive hand on his brother's back.

He wasn't wrong about that, but it seemed so unimportant in comparison; the station had managed without him, but it had an entire staff to tend to its upkeep. Meanwhile, the passengers only had a handful of people, and their primary caretakers were both leaving them.

Emmet studied his expression, circled around to face him in full, and seized Ingo's other shoulder. "If you're truly that concerned, I will back your decision. But I think you will regret it."

With a thought for his longstanding resolution-- to listen to his twin’s guidance when he stood on shaky ground-- Ingo gave a terse nod and resumed their forward track. While it was hard to say that it got any easier to progress, it was a simpler matter to put his fears into perspective as his system expanded outward, encompassing those routes he’d all but forgotten about, cooped up at home.

His underlying concern for Rael and Kari never fully faded, even upon arriving at Gear Station-- it was moreso the fact that once they got there, he found other matters held his attention. So early in the morning, the facility’s main body was empty of patrons, the only people moving to and fro the station’s employees. They made it a quarter of the way around the atrium’s perimeter, at which point a sharp call asked them to stay put.

The voice was enough to tell them who it had been, and they turned to keep Ramses in view as he jogged to catch up with them. He came to an easy halt and looked the both of them over, but it was easy to tell where the bulk of his scrutiny fell.

His lips parted into a sympathetic grin. “You look exhausted-- kids treating you well, then?”

“Only as tired as one feels after a good day’s work.” Ingo demurred, ignoring the look that called him on downplaying things so early on. He didn't see the problem; it was comparable to a hard day's work, just... several dozen in a row. One might have expected that topic to renew his anxieties but, instead, the question had him focus on the past, not the present or future. “Insofar as infants go, I would say they’ve been remarkably reasonable.”

Emmet snorted, and didn’t quite keep it under his breath as he muttered, “That is not how I would describe them.”

Ingo turned smoothly, as if to give Ramses his undivided attention, and used the movement to place his shoe firmly on top of his brother’s foot. “They can be somewhat difficult when the mood strikes them, but so long as we’re able to recognize the underlying causes for their behavior, they’re quite easy to work with. It’s a microcosm of what we do here; our duty is to ensure our patrons’ safety and to assist, whether it be through creating an understanding with them, or working with them to meet their needs.”

“Heh, I should have guessed it would come down to that, shouldn’t I?” Ramses shook his head, still smiling. “I’m happy for you; it seems like you finally got that weight off of your shoulders.”

For half a second, Ingo was concerned that the extent of his inner conflict had steeped into his conduct prior to taking leave, but it was overtaken by a second thought. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he’d pulled the light jacket he’d picked that morning tighter around his front. Naturally, Ramses’ attention was drawn to the movement, which meant it needed to be acknowledged, now.

“I appreciate your restraint.” Ingo said dryly. While he couldn’t deny the proverbial weight on his back, there had been a much more literal weight to contend with, opposite. The matter wasn’t anywhere near as conspicuous as it had once been, but he was still quite self-conscious-- to the point that, even though May was winding up into June, he was favoring function over practicality. In spite of the building heat, he’d chosen to resume use of his dark dress shirts, and to bring his waistcoat back into circulation for good measure.

The act of fastening it down that morning had been surprisingly reassuring; he might have been unable to wear it comfortably if it was cinched completely flat, today, but it demonstrated a great deal of change in and of itself. Progress had been and would continue to be made.

Ramses’ face went very lightly red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything in that.”

Aiming for-- and falling short of-- a disarming smile, Ingo shook his head. “No, no, you didn’t say anything wrong; I was the one who took it in that direction. I’m sorry for derailing our conversation.”

“Hah, no harm, no foul.” Ramses said, shaking his head. His posture shifted minutely, signaling the change in their conversation before it happened. “We can’t stay and chat right now, anyway-- I have to see which trainers we’ve got onsite before opening, and you should go get caught up. I’ll see you two later.”

He gave a brisk wave as he went back about his way and, though their actual work for today was based in their office, instead, the twins decided to see who else was preparing for the morning shift. The break room’s door wasn’t particularly heavy, and it opened without a whisper of sound, but the agents within looked when it opened. Emmet had been the one to peek inside, and even with the odd perspective, Ingo could plainly recognize how his brother grinned. With that rather blatant clue, he wasn’t terribly surprised when a hand landed on his back and shoved him in ahead, but all the warning in the world couldn’t keep him from stumbling as he tried to regain his balance.

Three of the Depot Agents stared back at him: Isadore, caught in the middle of preparing a cup of coffee, Cloud, who'd been storing her lunch for the day, and Cameron, who was twisted at the waist to follow the others’ example, away from the battle diagram he’d been annotating on the whiteboard. In their own ways, each of them brightened.

It was only fitting that Cloud would be the first to speak up, as she’d been the last agent Ingo had had a conversation with, prior to the boys’ arrival. For just a moment, she casually leaned an arm on the refrigerator door. “Low turnout today, is it? Is that why we get you back?”

With the ice broken, she stepped out of the way, letting the refrigerator’s door swing shut. Shortly thereafter, the door behind Ingo clicked shut, too; he glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one had gotten the bright idea to push him in as a distraction before running off, and when he was satisfied that his twin wasn’t playing fair weather ally, relaxed.

“I’m afraid we’re not going to see any passenger turnout here, today.” He stepped farther into the break room, creating an opening at his side, which was promptly filled, “We’ll have to content ourselves with the patrons, instead.”

From beside him, there came a teasing, “Do you hear yourself when you speak?”

“I believe I’ve made myself perfectly clear.” Ingo said, folding his arms over his chest with a dignified annoyance.

Cloud huffed a laugh and stepped away from the refrigerator entirely, “I see parenthood hasn’t changed much, there.”

In unison, the twins looked to one another, each gauging whether or not it was warranted to use the other as an example so soon. While he was relatively certain that it wasn’t worth assuring their mutual embarrassment, Ingo held his ground until it became evident that Emmet had rejected the idea, too. Only then did he take his eyes off of his brother.

He gave his head a slow shake. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that; it’s been an excellent learning experience.”

More than that, it had also been an incredible bonding experience, both with his sons and his official co-parent. Even if he ignored everything that came before Kari and Rael were born, there was something to be said for cooperating to ensure the wellbeing of someone so tiny and trusting. It was completely different from raising Pokemon in that regard; Pokemon could care for themselves-- could make their own decisions and act in their best interests-- but an infant was wholly dependent on their parents. The teamwork involved was familiar, but it needed to run deeper than what the average multi battle partners might have. They were incredibly fortunate that they’d walked into it in lockstep.

In the time they spent talking, Cameron walked over to join the conversation, followed by Isadore as he finished mixing his coffee. The discussion they dipped into wasn’t at all pertinent to the job, but even though it wasn’t part of the day’s work on paper, they all knew it served an important purpose. Today was for catching up, to ensure that everyone was on the same tracks. While that was most evident where daily operations were concerned, one couldn’t overstate how vital interpersonal relationships were, either; what some might construe as gossip told Ingo a great deal about what had gone on in his absence, and sharing some of his own stories from the previous weeks helped the agents determine what to touch upon, in turn.

It was easy to neglect the social aspect of the job, and considering the nature of Ingo’s involvement for the foreseeable future, it was vital that he tend to it now-- both because it would be more difficult to maintain, working remotely, and because that distance would require concise communication. He would make an effort to visit more often, but he wasn’t going to be a regular presence here for some time, yet.

Ingo could admit that it was difficult-- bordering on being overwhelming. While they were already moving to bridge the gap paternity leave had left, there were so many details vying for his attention. Cameron alone had insight to offer into Donta’s performance as a substitute facility boss, teams that had fallen out or found new multis partners, and the inability to move Iron Balls at the BP counter, and he wasn’t the only one Ingo needed to listen to. He did his best to keep track of every conversational thread, but he worried that he might have missed something as Isadore left for his post, causing the conversation to wind down.

He glanced to Emmet, who had been characteristically quiet as the discussion progressed; he’d returned to the station earlier than Ingo had, giving him a bit more background information, but at the same time, mingling wasn’t exactly his favored part of the job. Between the two of them, though, they would be able to address everything that needed attention.

“Boss!” Furze shouted, making an entrance on the heel of Isadore’s departure, excitement clear in tone and pokeball clear in hand, “Simipour and I need to show you our new Choice Specs strategy!”

It might not have been his stated reason for being there today, but this was just as important, in ways Ingo hadn’t anticipated. In sense, it was an orientation of its own: before he knew it, he’d have to field this same energy from two growing boys.