Tara Again Yeah :)

Part I

A/N: I am sick and can't stop sneezing from some allergies that decided to cruelly attack. So, I wrote three pages of a cute little drabble out of nowhere that I may or may not continue because, as always, I have Ideas.

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III]

Summary: Emmet is sick. Ingo frets.

***

Thrown forward by the force, Emmet gritted his teeth as he felt the spasms travel down his back before tightening at the bottom of his spine. The pain repeated itself twice, three times, again- 

“You are not going into work today like this. You can’t even stop sneezing.” Glaring up at his brother, Emmet’s body betrayed him as he tried to plead his case. This time he sneezed five times in a row and could feel the frustrated tears welling up in his eyes. He did his best to not let them show.

“I am Emmet. I am-” Hm. He did not like to lie, and he wasn’t sure he could claim he was fine. “I am functional. I can still complete my duties as I am.”

Ingo stared at him, verrry judgemental, which, well. Emmet had collapsed on the couch as the sneezing fit had overtaken him. But he had recovered! Ingo seemed to be waiting for it to happen again, and Emmet wouldn’t give him the satisfaction even as he could feel the burning at the roof of his mouth and the terrible sensation of something almost dripping and the burning increasing- 

“That is your fifth attack since we woke up, Emmet. We have only been awake for an hour.” Ingo had, at least, waited until Emmet had recovered and blown his nose. “Even if you show no other symptoms and this is a case of allergies, I highly doubt working underground with trains and Pokemon battles will help you recover.” 

“Allergies are always the worst after waking up. As soon as we get to Gear Station I will be fine.” He hoped he would, at least. Was it lying if he wished it wasn’t one? 

“And if you are not?” Mm. That was not a question he wished to answer. Ingo seemed to realize he wasn’t going to get an answer because he sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Let me take your temperature one more time. If it has remained unchanged, I will not force the issue and allow you to go.” 

“Deal!” Emmet beamed, muffling another few sneezes into his tissues as Ingo left to get the thermometer. After he finished blowing his nose, he made a face and immediately held the tissues out towards a fretting Garbordor. “I am once again verrry grateful we have you with us.” 

Their precious little thing gurgled happily before devouring the tissues, Emmet gently patting the steel she used for her arm. Since Ingo’s fretting hadn’t allowed him to dress for work, yet, he could feel how cool it was against his hand, the sensation nice after his body felt so heated from all the sneezing. 

“Emmet.” Startling at his name, Emmet looked up to where Ingo was sitting beside him- When had he gotten back? No, better, when had he sat down? “Please remain still and I apologize for any discomfort.” 

Ah. Ah. It was the ear one. Emmet hated the ear one. It must have shown on his face since Ingo’s expression softened before he held out his free hand, Emmet quickly latching on. “I apologize, I know you don’t like this. It is the surest way to confirm your temperature, however.” 

“Nn. Hurry?” Emmet shut his eyes as soon as Ingo nodded, trying to not squirm at the invasive feeling. As soon as it beeped to confirm it was finished, Emmet was jerking away and rubbing his ear. It usually wasn’t that bad, but his ears ached. Probably from all the sneezing? “May I be allowed to get dressed for work, now?”

“You may not.” Wha- But he had let Ingo take his temperature! He had said-! “I might not be, as well.” Emmet squirmed to look at the gauge at the clear worry in Ingo’s tone, squinting at the number and then wincing, and, okay. That was… not great. “Emmet, your temperature has risen three degrees within the past hour.” 

“Maybe it was wrong?” Emmet suggested weakly, whining when he felt Ingo’s hand against his forehead. He hated it because it felt cool and he knew what that meant, especially as Ingo gently tilted him forward before feeling at his back, collarbones, and upper sides. “Bad?”

“Bad.” Dammit. “You’re burning up. Here, lean back- Good. I will get you a cold compress and some pain relief to bring your fever down. After I will call us both out of work-”

“No- Wait, wait, don’t give me that look,” Emmet whined, waiting a moment to make sure Ingo wasn’t about to cut him off, first. “I’ll stay home. And rest. But at least one of us should go in. Gear Station cannot be missing both of its bosses.” 

Ingo looked like he was just barely stopping himself from pacing as he stood from the couch, bullying Emmet into laying down fully and stretching out. He then looked at him again before sighing. “You will rest? And call me on my breaks? Or fi it gets worst? You will need to take your temperature every hour until it starts to drop, and-” 

“Ingo,” Emmet interrupted, laughing and earning him another sneezing fit that Ingo handed him more tissues for. “Thank you. And I will be fine. I have been sick before. Besides, if you stay here you will likely get it as well. One of us should be healthy.”

“I’ll get it no matter what with how clingy you are when sick,” Ingo, the liar, complained. He then brushed Emmet’s bangs back and leaned down to kiss his forehead, Emmet relaxing and growing soft and mushy. “I will still get you a compress and the medicine you need. I am not running the Super Singles line so I will leave you Chandelure. She will be able to monitor you if things grow dire.” 

“Worrier,” Emmet grumbled, even as he softened into mush at his brother’s care and worry. “Softie.” 

“Brat,” Ingo shot back, ruffling his hair. “I will be back.” 

It may have been the rising fever that Emmet had somehow missed up on waking up first thing, but between what felt like one moment and the next he was wound up in blankets on the couch and the front door was closing after Ingo left. 

Chandelure chimed softly above him, Emmet freeing a hand to pat cool glass, “I will be fine. I will heal. Worry about Ingo. He gets verrry lonely without me there to annoy him.” Ah, but in truth, Emmet got just as lonely. 

Squirming in his prison-slash-nest, Emmet opened up his xtrans and sent a message. ‘chandlr crying. misses u verrrrrrry much. come home soon.’ 

‘I am amazed at how you continue to defy autocorrect even with a fever.’ Heh. ‘Drink water. I will be home soon.’ 

‘Mother Ursaring.’ Emmet leaned over to grab the water he had been left and take a couple of sips. ‘Love you.’

‘I love you as well. I will be home soon.’ Mm… Emmet stared at the words, slowly frowning and hoping it was just his fever that filled him with a sense of unease. 

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

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