Distortion Train Chapter 4
Summery: Emmet went looking for Ingo after his train didn't arrive on time. Worry erupts inside of him when he can't find neither brother nor train.
Author's Note: First language isn't English and this is my first ongoing fanfiction. Enjoy.
Warning: Description of panic
Word Count: 1955
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âMr. Subway Boss Emmet? â
His eyes shot open after what felt like an eternity, they burned and stung from all the tears that fell in the last ⌠hours? He couldnât remember. Everything blurred together after Chandelure started to frantically cry out for her trainer. She couldnât sense him anymore. In that moment Emmetâs life was torn down right in front of him, smashed to pieces as it crumbled to the ground in one heap of unusable shards. A shiver ran down his spine as another helpless, hoarse sob crawled from his throat. The subway tunnel was cold and empty, too empty, echoing back his desperate pleas. Emmetâs chest tightened at the thoughtâthe factâthat Ingo was gone.
Gone.
The cold and suffocating truth hit Emmet all over again like a fright train. A massive force slamming into him, dragging him across the rails as his consciousness slipped from him, an attempt to escape a futile attempt.
He didnât understand.
How could this happen?
Why would this happen?
Why would Ingo leave?
Did he leave?
The train never arrived, neither was it in the tunnel, furthermore part of their PokĂŠmon wer left on the rails. They were confused and dare he say terrified. That didnât make sense. It didnât, unless, UNLESS, Ingo was being kid-
âBoss Emmet! can you hear me?â
âHeâs not responding!â
âI know, I can see that, Cameron.â
âWhat should we do? What can we do?â
âWe already informed the HQ and one of them is trying to reach Boss Ingo. All we need to do, is to steady Boss Emmetâs breathing for now.â
Emmet exhaled shakily, focusing on his chest and the way his lungs expanded with fresh air. He could steady his breathing. That wasnât hard. It wasnât, it shouldnât be. It wasnât supposed to be.
Why than werenât his lungs filling with air? He was Emmet and he was painfully aware that it was bad if his lungs wouldnât fill with air. He needed to breath, he needed to breath badly, why couldnât he breathe? His hands flew up to his throat, gripping and pulling at his tie in desperation to undo the knot. He needed it gone, away from him! It was too tight, his skin was too hot, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin. Scratchy and rough, the fibers a thin metal threat. He fumbled with the gloves on his hands. Off. He needed everything off! Away! G o n e.
Shallow gasps escaped him, scrapping over his throat as he held himself up on his shaking arms and knees. Each attempt to breath left him with less oxygen0, lead filling his lungs instead of air. It burned him from the inside, his chest constricted. Emmetâs mind was in shambles, yet he was forced to focus. How was he supposed to focus on breathing in a time where he couldnât see through the haze? His eyes were open, yet he didnât see what was in front of them.
He wheezed out a dry sob. His body was too tired to muster up a proper scream. Pained whimpers echoed in the tunnel as he dug his fingers into the ground below, his bare skin scrapping across the solid cement. A voice piped up right in front of him, unclear and hard to distinguish.
âMr. Boss, I am going to touch your hands, ok?â
Right, right⌠People were around him and they talked, asked him something most likely, but he couldnât pick up the meaning behind the words. A sharp jolt of fizzling static and white pain cut through his very being, his poor attempt of an inhale stuck in his throat. Needles prickled in Emmetâs hands as tiny legs frantically ran up and down his arms. The spike in sensory subsided and at last the ringing in his ears stopped. He could finally make out the meaning behind the words that were said to him.
âMr. Boss Emmet? Are you in pain? Am I hurting you?â, asked him a worried voice. A second one spoke up, more composed or at least that is what Emmet thought it sounded like.
âTake it easy, will you? We donât need two people losing their minds in the tunnels.â
The names Jackie and Cameron, supplied Emmetâs swimming mind. They were two of the Depot Agents working at Gear Station. It made sense for Jackie to be here, as they always seem to be around the station, no matter what time and they must have dragged Cameron with them like usual. Were they looking for him? If so, he had to thank them later. Emmet lifted his head and pulled his leg up when a hand pressed down on his shoulder.
âBoss Emmet, I have to ask you to stay put until-â Jackieâs voice trailed off and the pressure of his hands lifted. Steps echoed down the subway tunnel before they came to a full stop. He couldnât tell where or who it was, his ears werenât the best after all, however he picked up the additional blurry blob sliding into his vision. There was movement and shuffling that echoed all around him, scraping like sandpaper against his ears till something heavy was placed on his shoulders and pulled over his head to cover his ears.
It felt like a protective blanket, that he so desperately needed, to block out the outside world with. A weight that grounded him, let his mind collect and slow down to a manageable speed. The echoes of before dulled to a mere faraway whisper, letting a new voice ring clearly.
âEmmet?â
Emmetâs hands twitched, one finding its way to the sleeve of the jacket, that someone draped over him. His fingers rubbed the fabric between them, grounding him further. His eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lamps the Depot Agents brought with them and he squinted at the person in front of him, finally making out a face through all the hazy blur.
It was Ramsesâ kind face, now worry written all over it, eyebrows knit together as he spoke again.
âEmmet? Can you hear me now?â
His mind was still full, stuffed with information, lack of information that sparked questions, more questions, fears, doubts, theories, nothing that made sense slapped together with logic he couldnât find. A brother he couldnât find. His mind would have gone down another Bunary-hole if it wasnât for the extra weight on his shoulders.
The Subway boss nodded; The action was followed by the relieved sights of the three Depot Agents around him. Emmet wasnât sure about it, but they must have tried to gain his attention for a while now, going off their reaction. Even Ramses, one of the subwayâs longest agents, held a hand against his chest. Cameronâs head popped into Emmetâs vision; hands folded in front of him.
âAre you hurt? I saw you briskly walk off after you wished Furze a good night and when I asked where you were, nobody knew. So, I went around the place myself because it is not common for you to just, you know, change plans and it made me worry a bit. Jackie saw me run around and helped me look, but when you werenât anywhere, we could think of, we went to check the cameras-â
He trailed off after that, looking past Emmet on the floor. Ramses gently nudged Cameron out of the way and kneeled to his bossâ level, who was still seated in the middle of the tunnel on the cold rails of the subway. Ramsesâ look was intense, but his boss couldnât tell as his eyes drifted back down to the floor, avoiding eye contact.
âDid something happen, Emmet?â
Emmet nodded at that, incapable to voice his thoughts. Even if he could, he wouldnât be able to explain the situation. How could he, if he didnât understand it himself? It made no sense whatsoever. A whole train couldnât just disappear into thin air, right? No warning, no alarm. It was stripped from all logic, leaving him helpless and alone.
Correction.
Almost helpless and definitely not alone
Ramses and Cameron were kneeling in front of him and Jackie stood off to the side holding his walkie-talkie. He was most likely explaining the updated situation to HQ right now. Emmet dared to look back up and found Ramsesâ hand hover over his shoulder. He leaned against it, which earned him a small smile from the old Depot Agent. The man was a blessing, truly. He moved next to Emmet and helped him stand up, arms sturdily keeping him upright. His legs moved on their own as he was guided through the tunnel. The walk might have been long, but time didnât feel real. Every minute stretched into hours, yet they tumbled by in the blink of an eye.
He had been in the dark tunnels not a second ago, he was sitting on the rails for days, the way up the stairs were several hours long but it took them only minutes to round all the corners of the corridors to the break room. He doesnât know when he sat down on the couch or how a warm ceramic mug found its way into his hands but it was nice. It warmed his palms and gave him something to focus on other than the murky fog that made up his mind.
A voice. Someone was talking. People have been talking nonstop ever since they found him crumbled down, sobbing into the ground. This was different. Someone was specifically talking to him. A question? He craned his neck up from where he sat, the blanket, that replaced Ramsesâ jacket, shifting. Jackie was there, their face neutral, or at least thatâs what it looked like. Their mouth moved first before Emmet could register the words, it took another moment for him to make sense of them.
âAre you feeling better?â
Was he? Technically no, he wasnât. Yes, the hoarseness in his throat could be dulled by the beverage in his hands because they went out of their way to get him a mug of milk and honey but when he looked a bit past the surface, Emmet felt broke. It was as if life itself smashed his mirror image with a sledge hammer, cracking and shattering whatever he once was.
Ingo disappeared. They couldnât find anything of Ingo, all traces gone. The train and even part of his team were missing! The Depot Agents were frantically looking for him. Thatâs what they had been doing this whole time. Doing overtime as they ran down corridors themselves, in groups of two, to cover more ground. Someone ran back to the security room to go through all the camera footage, checking each of them in hopes of some news. No one seemed to have seen a speck of Ingo after he boarded the Singles Line. The only trace was the Pokeballs currently in Emmetâs possession. His fingers tightened around the mug, and he nodded his head. He didnât want to burden them any further while they were searching for his twin. Jackie nodded at the simple headshake, taking in their bossâ answer. They sat down on his left, filling out the missing shape in Emmetâs vision. It was a small form of comfort in this dire time as they both sat in silence, as the rest of the station collapsed.
-
Depot Agents inspired by:
@hoofpeet
@pigdemonart












