There had been a point in his life where Emmet had considered himself an insomniac; with adjusted habits and the correct medications, he’d gotten himself to a stable rhythm by the time they were hired on at the station, and from there, it was a matter of following the schedule as written. There were times restlessness would find him, still, but he thought that was just a shared human experience.

For the past eight years, however, he’d found dropping off into unconsciousness at the end of a long day a relatively simple task; any sleepless nights were usually the result of a third or fourth party. In earlier years, there hadn’t been a great deal he could do to assist, but as Rael and Kari grew more and more mobile, he would occasionally wake to the sound of a timid knock at his door. What they needed changed as time wore on, from comfort, to water, to help when they felt ill. He’d never quite narrowed down what drove either of them to choose which direction they might break off toward on any given night, and, frankly, he doubted there was much logic to it. A scared or sick child wouldn’t care which parent they went to, they were just seeking protection.

The turnaround was impressive: from being a child who had difficulties sleeping alone, to being an adult who could catch a nap whenever his tight schedule permitted. He was grateful to have learned it, otherwise he would have been a much more irritable person, on the whole.

Still, Emmet was surprised to wake up on the couch. He didn’t remember falling asleep here, with weights on his shoulder and lap. Though he couldn’t see the clock from his precise angle, he could tell that it was early evening, but that was where his assessment went off course.

It wasn’t just him. Their entire family unit was asleep on the couch: Ingo to his left, one arm stretching out over the sofa’s backing, using it both as a makeshift pillow and to keep Rael reined in on all sides. Rael was, in fact, the weight on Emmet’s shoulder-- wedged between both of his parents, but tilting severely to the right, face pressed against Emmet’s bicep and, due to the odd positioning, drooling slightly in his sleep. Emmet bit down on a sigh when he realized it, and tried to ignore his increasing awareness of the damp spot in his sleeve.

Last was Kari, sprawled out over the rest of his family with his head pillowed on Ingo’s far arm, hiding his eyes against his father’s middle. It was very sweet, but from his own experience, Emmet knew that if the boys continued to sleep so early in the evening, it would only cause problems for them later in the night. The only problem was that he didn’t know how to disentangle himself from the human puzzle he’d become a part of.

While his goal was, ultimately, to wake the others, he didn’t want to just jolt upright and scare his family into awareness. He shifted minutely, testing just how much Rael was leaning on him, and was dismayed-- and charmed-- to find himself supporting a great deal of the boy’s weight. With one hand free, he could try to shift him toward Ingo long enough to get up, and if that didn’t rouse either of them first, then he could find a kinder method of waking them.

Emmet was about to try it when, in the process, he turned his head to find a silver eye cracked open, looking at him.

“I wanted to let them rest just a few minutes longer.” Ingo murmured, letting his eye fall shut again, a particularly deep breath rustling the hair on the back of Rael’s head, “If they’re already so tired, they must need it. Don’t worry, I’m keeping an eye on the time.”

“Your eyes are closed.” Emmet sent back, unable to help himself.

His brother’s lips twitched, down a tick, and then slightly upward. “Perhaps your mouth should follow suit.”

Emmet couldn’t retaliate without risking the passengers’ rude awakening, but he blew a petulant puff of air toward his twin, which caught Ingo off guard. He snorted, not particularly loudly, but with everyone in such close proximity, the motion was enough to make Rael respond-- and once he began to shift, it was only a moment before Kari woke up, as well.

Just like that, the apartment was thrown back into its usual state of perpetual motion, but the moment of peace had been nice while it lasted.