Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

James’ incident with the tree was only the start of several weeks of terrible rain. It fell all across Sodor, and everything became wet, wet, wet. The end of the Peel Godred line ran through the old city, past a small village and up to an aluminium works. A river passed through the village, and it was almost ready to burst its banks. Oliver was sat near the end of the village, waiting for Toby. The tram engine had been sent to help with a routine inspection of the line. He was going to check on the great wall known as a dam, as he was the only engine light enough to cross it.

Peel Godred had had its own dam for many years, and it supplied electricity to the surrounding area – including a small electric railway. A line ran over the dam to get to the electrical plant – and Toby had to cross over the great wall twice just to make sure it was safe.
“Be careful, driver says it might be dangerous up there.”
“Thanks Oliver,” replied Toby.

On his way to the dam, he crossed over an old wooden bridge. The water surged dangerously beneath the rails – it was almost high enough to lap at the track. But Toby bravely continued on. Harold was inspecting the dam when Toby arrived.
“We just need to get to the other side,” his driver soothed. The dam looked very unstable. There were little leaks in the brickwork, and it looked like some of the bricks had come loose. Toby was very worried. Soon, he knew why.
“The dam’s breaking up!” shouted a workman, running to the end of the dam. “Get off it and warn everyone!” The leaks grew larger, and there were more of them. Hundreds of jets of water appearing in the cracks and holes between the large stone bricks. Toby shunted back as fast as his wheels would let him.

Oliver took some workmen to inspect the wooden bridge at the end of the town. It’s rotting wooden beams were almost ready to break – and worse yet the storm had gotten worse. Then Toby appeared from in the gloom.
“You’re back quick – is everything alright?” asked Oliver frantically.
“The dam’s breaking up!” gasped Toby. “We need to get to higher ground!”

The tram engine hurriedly crossed the bridge, just making it before the wood finally gave way under the surging torrent below.

The pair raced back to the town, whistling loudly.
“Everyone needs to get to safety now!” called Toby. “The dam’s breaking up!”

People rushed out of their houses with all their valuables while Oliver and Toby shunted together any coaches or trucks they had. They needed to get to Peel Godred higher up in the hills. Harold buzzed overhead.
“Water’s pouring over the top of the dam!” he warned. “It’ll go any minute!” The villagers crowded into the trucks and coaches, shoving their things in with them. They were almost all aboard when it happened.

The pressure was too much. The dam ripped apart, huge chunks of brick adding to the torrent racing for the village. Harold saw the disaster and raced to tell the engines.
“The dam’s collapsed!” he shouted. “Get out of here!”
“Wait for me!” gasped an old woman, struggling through the water as it rose up to her knees. In the distance, the engines could hear the water racing towards them.
“You won’t fit in the wagons,” shouted a villager. “We’re all full!”
“Quick, in my cab!” called Toby. The woman stumbled into Toby’s cab and the train pulled out of the village. They were just in time. Behind them, the water raced through, pulling cars off the road and upturning garbage bins.

The two engines struggled along the line, the water rising around them. They had escaped the worst of the flood, but now they were battling to stay ahead of the torrent. Oliver dropped sand as he pulled, but most of it was swept away by the water. Toby pushed and puffed with all his might, but he was only a tram engine. Wheel turn by wheel turn, they edged further and further from the river, climbing up towards Peel Godred. Finally, Oliver’s wheels gripped solid steel, and he dragged the heavy evacuation train from the floodwaters. As Toby followed, a massive stone brick smashed against the line where he had just been, snapping the rails and getting stuck.

The old tram breathed a sigh of relief.

When the weather cleared and the floodwaters receded, the engines headed back to the village to help clean up. The valley looked a wreck. Upturned trees and washed-away cars lay everywhere, with rubbish and bits of brick making work difficult. When the work was over and the dam rebuilt, the villagers held a small celebration for the two engines that had saved them all. Donald and Douglas attended.
“Ach, I dinnae think I could’a been so brave!” sighed Donald to Toby. "Snow's one thing, but water's another." 
“Aye!” agreed Douglas. “Ye both were truly fine engines!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” smirked Toby. “I’m sure you would have been, but you’ll never know until you’ve tried.” Donald and Douglas rather hoped they never would.

Chapter Text

The flood had done more damage than expected. While this was being repaired, Oliver was stuck shunting trucks in the yard. Oliver didn’t mind at first – it was relaxing and easy, with plenty of breaks. Better yet, Douglas had let Oliver borrow Toad to keep him company… but soon Oliver began to feel bored. Toad noticed, and decided to ask.
“Excuse me Mr Oliver, it seems to me that all is not well with you… if you forgive me for mentioning it.”
“You’re quite right Toad,” sighed Oliver. “All I do is shunt these trucks day in and day out. All I long for is a nice long run. It’s what an engine wants.”
“Indeed Mr Oliver… perhaps you should ask the Fat Controller about it?” But Oliver didn’t. Instead he steeped in his misery, and he became rough too. He banged the trucks about the yard, not caring how they went.
“You’re no good Oliver!” the trucks squawked. “You’re dangerous. We want Percy or Duck!”
“They have no time for the likes of you,” huffed Oliver, and he bumped the trucks again. That’s when it happened.

In the yard Oliver was working in, there was a turntable that allowed engine to shunt the trucks into extra sidings. It had been turned for Donald and his incoming goods train – and Oliver didn’t care where he’d shunted the trucks. They rolled forwards, falling right into the turntable!
“You silly engine!” shouted a workman. “You’ve jammed the turntable! It’ll take hours to clear up the mess and unjam this!”

The Fat Controller arrived later. He was not pleased.
“Oliver, you've caused confusion. I thought you knew better, especially after the flood. You shall work the mail train for a while. Maybe the night air will clear your smokebox.”
“Yes sir, sorry sir…” murmured Oliver sadly. His driver saw how much this was affecting Oliver and spoke to him kindly.
“Cheer up old boy,” he smiled. “The mail run’s a lovely run – especially for an engine longing to stretch their wheels like you.”

That made Oliver feel a little better, but he still felt rather stupid for getting into such a state.

The mail run started at the Big Station and ran across the island, stopping off at various station and dropping off or picking up mail. Engines like Duck, Percy and BoCo met the mail train on its run, picking up the post bound for their branchlines. The cool night air and gentle breeze did make Oliver feel better as he headed out from the Big Station.

The train ran smoothly until they stopped at the Junction. There they had to wait for Harold, who had the mail from the North of the Island where the tracks didn’t run.
“Come on Harold,” groaned Oliver as he watched Henry fly by with the Flying Kipper. They waited, and waited, and waited. But there was still no sign of the helicopter. At last Harold landed.

“Sorry Great Western,” he sighed. Had a bit of a problem with one of my arms. Kept letting me down when I was meant to be up. You know how it is.” Oliver didn’t know how it was, but he did know they were going to be late on their very first Post train.

After they had picked up Harold’s mail, they continued on. Green signals shone them through stations, and soon they were approaching the Peel Godred branch. That was when things began to go wrong. A thick fog obscured everything, and Oliver was still not quite used to the area. When he felt the line swerve, he thought he had headed through the yard. In actuality, he was heading up the branchline.

As the fog began to lift, they spotted a red signal. Oliver began to whistle loudly, not realising that the signal had been set due to a set of jammed points.
“There must be something wrong with the signal,” sighed the driver. “We’ll head forwards to the box and ask the signalman.” This was to some extent the right thing to do – Rule 55 states that the driver of a train waiting on a signal on a running line must remind the signaller of the train’s presence. However he should have sent the fireman or guard instead of rolling Oliver forwards.

Oliver had only been beyond the station at the start of the branchline once, when he was rescued from the Other Railway. As such, he did not recognise that he was in the wrong place, and his driver had also never been in the area. They set off slowly, rolling along the line and across the jammed points. Neither engine nor driver realised this as they continued on, picking up speed as they found that the signalbox was nowhere in sight. The fireman was concerned.
“We need to find a refuelling station soon; Oliver’s almost out of coal and water.” Instead they rounded a bend and saw an old, run-down station. Disaster lay ahead.

Oliver tried to stop, but he was going too fast. He screeched through the station and smashed into the shed beyond. Rotted timbers collapsed all over poor Oliver.

Sir Topham Hatt stood anxiously at the Station platform.
“Where is Oliver?” he asked.
“We don’t know sir,” replied the stationmaster. “The signalwoman before Kildane noted him down when he passed, but he never reached the station.”
“Then he must be somewhere along the branchline. We will send out a search party at once.”

The Fat Controller went to the airfield and went with Harold into the sky, following the old branchline until…
“There they are!” grinned Harold, and the pilot landed in a small field by the old station. There was Oliver, drinking from a small water column and looked none the worse for his adventure.

“It wasn’t Oliver’s fault,” sighed the driver.
“I’m aware of that, I’m just glad you are all safe…” Then the Fat Controller noticed an empty old manor house by the station. He went and inspected it. When he returned, he spoke to Oliver.
“You have found another attraction for our railway,” he grinned. “We'll make this house as good as new and visitors can have tea and crumpets there.”

Oliver smiled. Getting lost could be interesting, but being found was much nicer. Especially when it made an engine feel really useful.

Chapter Text

Toad the Great Western Brakevan was feeling dejected. While he knew his work was important, it didn’t change the fact that the only thing he did all day was roll along backwards. Everyone else moved confidently, steadily forwards.
“Mr Oliver,” he said one day, “I’m always running backwards. I have forward-thinking views! I could be a leader… if you know what I mean Mr Oliver.” Oliver frowned. Toad had never expressed such feelings before – although he could understand. James, who was in the yard collecting his own train, began to cackle loudly.

“You! A leader!” he giggled. “You can’t be a leader without an important train to follow you – you don’t even have a train!”
“And what is your train today?” snapped Oliver. James glared.
“It’s a really important train of…”
“Iron ore from the foundry yes, not that important at all,” interrupted Oliver. He looked over at Toad, and decided he wanted to help.

“You are a really useful brakevan though Toad. You help with braking and you keep the trucks in order better than any other brakevan on the railway!”
“I know Mr Oliver,” smiled Toad, momentarily feeling better. Then he frowned again. “But it would be exciting to go forwards for a change instead of watching everything slide away from me.” Oliver agreed, and began trying to think of a way to help his friend.

Meanwhile the trucks became irritated with Toad.
“Who’s he to complain?” they said to one another. “He’s lucky he can keep us in order! We should teach him a lesson.” Oliver was distracted as he shunted his train, and he pushed a few too many trucks together. He was thinking of how to make his best friend feel better, when what he had actually done was add too many trucks to the train for Toad to be able to handle.

The trucks noticed though, and began chattering to one another. They waited until they reached the steepest part of the branchline before playing their tricks.
“Hold back! Hold back!” they chanted, pulling on an old coupling. It creaked, it groaned, and then it snapped. Oliver shot forwards as Toad and the trucks rocketed down the hill!

“We’re making your wish come true Toad!” they called. “Follow Toad the leader!” Toad tried to apply his brakes, but he couldn’t. His guard had jumped clear. The runaway picked up speed as he flew down the hill and screeched around a bend.

For a brief moment, it was all rather fun.

But then Toad spotted the level crossing up ahead. The gates were closed, and Bertie was crossing with a road tour!
“Look out!” shouted Toad. He smashed through the crossing, then realised he was on the wrong line! There was James, puffing back up the line with his return train of iron ore trucks.
“What the—” yelped James.
“Help! Save me!” wailed Toad. Luckily, the signalman did. He switched the points, and Toad changed onto the other line.

He flew past the signalbox, then on down the line.
“Faster! Faster!” cackled the trucks. Toad just wanted them to stop. He rounded a bend, joining the mainline. The runaway was too fast for the signalwoman, and zipped past before he could do anything. Now poor Toad was on the mainline!

Worse yet, he was on the wrong line again. There ahead of his was Donald, puffing along with a long, slow goods train.
“Wuh… oh gosh! Help!” yelped Toad. A quick-thinking shunter did, flicking the points just in time.
“Wha was that?!” exclaimed Donald.

Signals and points changed, and the stationmaster got a call at the next station.
“There’s a runaway coming!”
“We’ll send it into the sidings!”

“Oh please help me!” wailed Toad, wishing he had never opened his mouth. Then he switched into the sidings. Ahead of him was a set of buffers.
‘Those’ll stop me,” he thought with a wry smile… but the points to the buffers weren’t set. Toad swerved again, finding himself back on the mainline.

The trucks were finding it all a great game. They didn’t care what Toad thought – this was now their train.

Meanwhile, Oliver was chasing down the train, putting every ounce of steam into each wheel turn. He flew past Edward and the breakdown train, rushing past Donald and racing through the station and onto the mainline.
“I must catch Toad! I must!” panted Oliver. Further down the line, Toad thundered past Henry, heading towards the viaduct. Beyond it lay Gordon’s hill.

The recent rain had caused several pools of muddy water to appear along the lineside. One of these had swallowed up some of the track itself, and a team of workmen had been sent out to repair the damage. They had been warned of the runaway, and they were ready with a plan. When Toad sped into view, they diverted him onto an old siding… right into the muddy pool!

“Stopped… at… last…” gurgled Toad. Some of the muddy water had gotten into his mouth, but he didn’t care. So long as he did not have to do that again.

When Oliver arrived, he could only laugh.
“A pond’s the only place for a Toad I suppose,” he chuckled. Toad felt he was being very silly.

Oliver fished him out, and Toad expected for him to run around and couple up to him to drag him to the works – but Oliver didn’t. Instead, he buffered up behind the brakevan so Toad was the one facing out along the mainline.

The two old friends set off for the works.
“I’m sorry Mr Oliver… if I caused you any embarrassment…” he sighed.
“Oh that’s alright Toad. So what do you think of going forwards?”
“It was… exciting…” decided Toad. “But this is nicer. At least like this I’m not about to crash into an engine at high speed.” He paused, thinking about his experience.

“This is nice. Thank you Mr Oliver.”
“No problem Toad.”
“From now on, I’ll be happy to look forward to the future… busy going backwards, so to speak.”
“Alright Toad,” smiled Oliver. “But if you feel like going forwards again, tell me and we can do this… instead of you accidentally hijacking a train.”

Toad could only agree.

Chapter Text

Oliver frowned up at the odd pylons the workmen were slotting into the ground.
“What are those?” he asked grumpily. They were large and got in the way of the scenery – Oliver found them to be the most annoying things on the line.
“They’re catenary posts,” his driver explained. “There will be wires strung between them, so the electric engines can run the line.”
“Electric engines?” asked Oliver, frowning up at the catenary posts.
“Why yes!” grinned his driver. “The Fat Controller has decided to electrify the whole line so that you steam engines don’t have extra work.”

Oliver thought that was what his driver should have led with.

A few days later, Oliver was called away to the quarry while the men were testing the wires. It was too dangerous to have a steam engine – with smoke and steam – too close to the men, in case they couldn’t see what they were doing.
“Shall we be away long?” asked Oliver.
“Just today,” promised the Fat Controller. “But please be careful. With all these old lines reappearing, it is all too easy to get lost on the line… you know that all too well.”
“Indeed we do,” agreed Oliver readily. He still remembered accidentally discovering an abandoned manor on a disused line. “I’ll be careful.”

Oliver puffed off to the quarry, finding Mavis and Toby waiting for him.
“We’re glad you’re here to help us,” smiled Toby. “There are trucks everywhere!”
“So what do you need me to do?” asked Oliver.
“Shunt trains together and pull them to the junction,” replied Mavis. She looked a little putout – but that was only because she wasn’t the one pulling the trains down to the junction.
“I’ll do my best,” promised Oliver.

Oliver found himself enjoying working at the quarry. It was a pleasant change from the construction work, and better yet the trucks had heard of him. The dustier he became, the harder he worked. Mavis and Toby were impressed… at least until they heard him mutter: “only the Great Western way” under his breath.

That evening, the foreman strode over to speak to Oliver and his driver.
“We have a night special to take to repair the station Gordon broke for you to pull. Are you up for it?”
“Yes we are,” said the driver. The Fat Controller agreed, and the train was arranged. Then night fell.

“Be careful,” advised Toby.
“I will, and thank you for a great day. I enjoyed the change of pace.”
“I wish I was going up the new branchline…” muttered Mavis under her breath. Toby and Oliver could only laugh. Then Toby turned serious again.
“Look out though,” Toby said. “There’s fog forecasted for tonight – take care.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Oliver replied – but he didn’t really listen.

They arrived on time, dropping the stone off for the workers and then setting off for home. That’s when the trouble began. The fog rolled in, and soon Oliver could barely see in front of him.
“There’s a signalbox,” called his driver. “And the signal's green. Home we head!”

But the signalman hadn’t been expecting them. The points were set to a new line, but Oliver didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to spot anything useful. If he had just look up, he would have noticed the catenary did not follow him.

They carried on until they reached an unknown yard.
“This must be the yard at the junction,” Oliver reasoned. “Whistle to the signalwoman so she can send us to our shed.” So Oliver whistled. Then he whistled again. Normally, he would be able to hear the points change – they always made that odd clunk sound. But this time there was no clunk of points changing. And there were strange sounds – whirring and clanking and groaning that reminded Oliver of…
“Driver… where are we?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. He gulped, looking around. On either side of him he could see a faint red glow.
“This is very weird,” the driver sighed. He turned to the fireman. “Go and find the nearest signalbox. After last time, I’m not taking any chances.” The fireman nodded and headed off. The fog began to clear.
“Oh no… no, not again…” gulped Oliver. “Please get me out of here driver!” But they couldn’t leave without the fireman.
“I’m going to go look for the fireman,” murmured the driver, and he too wandered off into the fog. Oliver was all alone in the scrapyards, looking for any signs of activity.

His driver and fireman returned a few minutes later.
“The signalman won’t answer us, so we’ll just have to head back and try to spot something familiar.”

Then a shiver went down Oliver’s boiler. He peered into the fog, and two pairs of dark eyes peered back.
“You’ll make very fine scrap indeed,” growled a deep, demonic voice. Some metal ripped apart in the distance.
“Let’s go! Now!” yelped Oliver. He jolted backwards, looking all around for something he could use to get away from the diesels.

He spotted an unmissable pylon rooted into the ground at one edge of the yard.
“There!” he gasped. “It’s a catenary pylon!” His driver spotted it too, and they raced towards it, changing the points so they were on the right line.

“Let’s get out of here,” Oliver’s driver said – and they followed the catenary lines far, far away from the scrapyard.

The next day, Oliver headed back to the Little Western. He does not speak much about what he saw that night, for it still haunts him – but he certainly has changed his mind on catenary wires.

The new line up to Peel Godred was a great success. The Fat Controller ordered some electric engines to run the line, and they continue to serve the communities well. The manor, the lake and the Culdee Fell Railway all attract visitors to the region, and it is a very popular attraction for ramblers, hikers and campers.