His brother’s name was Ingo.

They figured it out on a cool day, sitting together on the apartment’s balcony. The wind was mild, even up on the third story, and the sun just enough to cut through the chill, lending the mildest amount of warmth to those beneath its rays. It was Eelektross’s new bulk that contributed the greatest amount of insulation, the eel napping with his head laid in his trainer’s lap, wholly unbothered by the child toying with one of the arms it was still growing into.

For once, there was neither ground nor poison type lingering on the periphery, both content in the knowledge that their charge would be safe in Emmet’s care. There was something gratifying in the fact that all parties involved trusted him enough to make this moment happen.

Truthfully, in the years that followed, Emmet wouldn’t remember the exact conversation that led them there, just that it had been a slow, comfortable rhythm between them-- a meandering back and forth about whatever came to mind. What he remembered best was the way his brother rested his head against his side without a hint of hesitation.

“Do I really have to?” The child asked, albeit with a resignation that wholly undercut his complaint.

While he was already penned in by the other half of Eelektross’s body, Emmet reached over to curl an arm around him, lips twitching when he nestled in more securely. “I’m afraid you really do.”

There was a huff of a sigh, and while it was likely meant to be a show of irritation with the human world’s complexities, in practice, it was just incredibly endearing.

“I like that one, then.” His twin said, eyes lingering briefly on the pale sphere glinting in the sun, standing sentinel over its buried partner, “I think I could be Ingo.”

Emmet smiled and pulled him in closer, resting a cheek against the top of his head to whisper back:

“Then welcome home, Ingo. I’m verrrry happy you’re here.”