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Chapter Text

Green Arrow blew his whistle cheerfully as he pulled into Knapford Station. He was pulling coaches today which always pleased the LNER V2.

James, who's coaches he had taken after an incident had occurred with him and a coal hopper, sat fuming in the station with Gordon and Duck. He gave a humph and ignored the large green engine.

"Don't be so sour James," Green Arrow chided him. "You'll go back to pulling them tomorrow I'm sure."

James just wheeshed steam.

"You're just an over glorified smaller version of Gordon!" He snapped. Gordon's eyes widened in shock and he gave an indignant huff in response.

James immediately regretted his comment however as he saw the Fat Controller come out of his office with an angry glare at him.

"James! That was unnecessary! Apologise immediately!" He ordered and James pouted at him.

"But he is sir! He just has one less bogey wheel!" James argued.

"James!"

"I don't mind sir," Green Arrow said brightly. "It's a common comment I get. And it's one that's technically true. We V2's were meant to function as a mixed traffic engine version of the A3's."

"That doesn't excuse James' rudeness," the Fat Controller glared at James who faltered and gave a heavy sigh, relenting.

"Alright, I'm sorry Green Arrow," he said dismissively, not looking at Arrow.

Arrow looked unbothered.

"It's fine, I'm really not bothered," he said with a friendly smile at James.

James just grew angrier.

Ever since he'd gotten his voice back and returned into service, Green Arrow had outperformed him in every aspect and he had started stealing all of his work. All with this bright happy attitude that infuriated James.

It made him feel useless. And there were few things that hurt an engine's pride than feeling useless.

James glared at Green Arrow as the Fat Controller praised him.

"You have become one of the most useful engines on my railway Green Arrow," he beamed and Green Arrow just blushed.

"I'm just really happy to prove myself and not be locked up in another shed for years sir," Arrow said. "I don't mind the work."

"Oh ay, City of Truro was telling me how impressed he was with you," Duck chimed in. "Got the spirit of a Great Western that Arrow, '' he told me. I can see what he meant by that."

"Ah yes, Truro," the Fat Controller suddenly remembered what he had come out to tell the engines. "The Sodor branch of the National Railway Museum will be opening in a couple weeks. Green Arrow and Truro will head the celebrations along with a few other engines."

"Something to look forward to," Duck said with a smile. "Truro's not been in the best mood lately."

Gordon shifted uncomfortably and stared at the tracks ahead of him.

He didn't want to dwell on his brother's condition, he simply wanted to work, pulling his express.

Green Arrow kept quiet. Although he didn't know what was happening with the Flying Scotsman, he knew that something was up.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that Truro, Gordon and Tornado were hiding something and that was clearly very sensitive.

Gordon whistled loudly and departed with his express while James went off with a huff and a dirty look at Arrow.

Duck just sat and looked over at Arrow.

"You know, I'm really surprised you're so friendly considering everyone was so nasty to you when you didn't have a voice," Duck said and Arrow just looked at him curiously.

"Everyone ignored or hated me on other railways I worked at in the past, I'm used to it so I really don't care," Arrow said dismissively. "And the best way to get back at people who don't like you is to be happy. I find that it infuriates them."

Green Arrow gave a sly grin of past experience.

Duck couldn't help but appreciate that.

"You know what, I'm starting to like you Green Arrow," Duck smirked and Arrow gave a laugh.

~~~

"Will Magpie be at the opening of the Sodor Museum Mr Stainer sir?" Henry asked hopefully as he waited at Ulfstead Castle.

"Oh heavens no," Stainer said with a smile. "She was just doing the Museum a favour that day she brought Scotsman here, she's owned by another Railway."

"Oh," Henry looked crestfallen. "Well, will another Black 5 be there?" He asked hopefully.

Stainer turned to Henry, raising his eyebrow curiously.

"The Museum doesn't own any of the 18 remaining Black 5's I'm afraid Henry. However you'll be there, so technically one will," he said and Henry's expression grew even sadder.

Stainer grew concerned.

"What's the matter Henry?"

"Well," Henry began nervously. "I never really considered the fact I had siblings, or a family. See, it was weird. I wasn't a Gresley but I never saw myself as a Stainer either."

"Ah I see. Magpie made quite the impression on you I see," Stainer said and Henry looked up at him hopefully.

"I don't mean to be a burden but would I possibly be able to meet any of the other Black 5's? I would like to know my siblings, even if they don't see me as such," Henry cautiously asked and the short stout man gave a hearty laugh.

"Of course Henry! I'm sure that Sir Topham would love for you to meet your siblings. The only problem is that he'd have to ask the Railways themselves which may take time," he said.

"That's okay sir, I don't mind waiting."

"I am surprised that Olivia didn't mention you to me though," Stainer said curiously. "You have quite a history. And you have a personal connection with my own family and hers. It's unique to have an engine rebuilt in such a way of yours. What manner of thing happened to you that you needed such a drastic change."

"Olivia probably didn't know sir, not many people know I was a Gresley Prototype," Henry said. "And I don't really like talking about it, the accident I was in that caused my rebuild… I don't like to dwell on it sir."

Stainer looked remorsefully at Henry.

"I apologise dear Henry," he said with a concerned smile. "I will refrain from asking about it unless necessary."

"Thank-you sir," Henry said with a small smile.

"But you should speak to your controller about seeing your siblings," Stainer said with a beaming smile. "I think they'll be more than happy to find a long lost sibling to add to their little family, they’re a very tight knit group."

"Are you sure sir?” Henry asked nervously. “I hope that I won’t intrude on anything.”

Stainer gave Henry an encouraging smile.

“In an age where a lot of steam engine classes went extinct, the remaining Black 5’s take pride in having a great number of them,” he said with a proud smile. “They’ll be very pleased, you remember how happy Magpie was when she met you.”

“I guess,” Henry said, looking at his buffers briefly before glancing up at Stainer. “Thank-you sir.”

“You’re very welcome Henry. You’re a very charming engine, you know that?”

Henry blushed deeply.

Stainer looked over as he saw a purple tank engine pull into the station with the Flying Scotsman’s personal coach, Lydia.

Lydia was chirping away happily to Ryan who seemed content to listen to her stories.

Ryan pulled up alongside Henry with a polite whistle.

“Hello Mr Henry! Hello Mr Stainer!” He greeted both of them brightly. “Ms Olivia is here!”

“So I see!” Stainer observed, beaming as the tall woman exited the coach. He looked slightly disheartened when he saw that she was alone. “I don’t get to meet little Scott just yet?”

Olivia smirked at him. “No, no, he’s still too new to be out and about. Oscar’s looking after him. You’ll meet him eventually, don’t be so impatient.”

Stainer gave a defeated sigh and looked up at the taller woman.

“That being said, should you be out and about so soon?” He asked concerned and Olivia raised her eyebrow at him.

“I’m not made of glass Henry,” she scolded him and gave him a scowl to which Stainer gave a nervous laugh. “But I was worried, so I came to check on things.”

Stainer nodded.

“Sir Robert hasn’t had any issues, however the attitude of a certain someone towards his guests and servants has not been ideal,” Stainer admitted and Olivia frowned.

“I see.”

Olivia looked over and saw Henry sitting at the platform patiently.

“Hello other better Henry,” she greeted him and Stainer gave a roll of his eyes. "How are you?"

"I'm good thank-you Ms Olivia. Congratulations on your baby," Henry said cheerfully and Olivia smiled at him.

"Thank-you dear, you're a sweetheart," She smiled at him. "How are you finding the new diesel?"

"Bear? He can be a bit much at times but he really loves us Steam Engines for some reason," Henry said.

"Nothing wrong with that," Olivia smiled. "He's always been like that from what I heard about his previous owner. He used to ask to be brought out to watch the Steam Engines when they came along on railtours."

"I guess it's just unusual," Henry sighed. "Gordon and James find him tiring but I can see he's just excited."

"You're a very astute engine Henry," Olivia smiled. She turned to leave but Henry suddenly spoke up.

"Um, Ms Olivia… I have a question."

"Go on Henry."

"Did you know I was a failed Gresley Prototype?"

Olivia paused and glanced at Stainer.

"I'm sorry Henry I did not, Stainer only told me after your little encounter with Magpie," she said apologetically. "I had no idea, I'm sorry. I thought you were one of the Black 5's. Maybe it was for the better. Our family is not kind to Prototypes."

Henry knew that.

He'd heard stories from Gordon about such things.

He was very glad to have avoided such a fate.

"Gordon has told me stories ma'am," Henry admitted. "But I don't mind, I was curious, that was all."

Olivia smiled kindly at him.

"Well, feel free to ask me anything Henry, I'm sure Stainer will accommodate any questions too," she smiled at him. "You're very much a part of both our legacy's."

"Thank-you Ms Olivia, Thank-you Mr Stainer," Henry said with a nervous smile.

"You're very welcome Henry."

Henry watched as the two turned and left the platform leaving him with the little tank engine Ryan.

"It's good you see you again Ryan, you too Lydia," Henry said with a warm smile to the little engine and his coach.

"You too Henry!" Ryan beamed at the bigger engine. "It's a shame I don't get to talk to you more often but I am up at Harwick most of the time."

Lydia just humphed at him.

Henry looked at the tracks disheartened.

"I um, don't mean to bother you with such things Henry but," Ryan paused as he chose his next words carefully. "I was wondering if you knew anything regarding Flying Scotsman?"

Henry was taken aback by the question.

"I don't know anything, I'm sorry," Henry said with a sad look. "Maybe ask Gordon or Tornado?"

"I tried but Gordon just ignored me and Tornado said she didn't know anything and became upset," Ryan said. "It's just, Lydia is his personal coach. They went to America together. She just wants to know what's going on."

Henry looked at Lydia sadly.

"I'm sorry Lydia but I really don't know," Henry said quietly. "But I can try and find out for you."

Lydia looked at him hopefully but said nothing.

"Thank-you Henry, I'd appreciate it," Ryan gave Henry a brilliant smile.

Henry just smiled at the small engine, his mind filled with worry and anxiety.

~~~

"What are you doing here?" Green Arrow heard Rebecca call out to him as he reversed into the berth beside Tornado.

She didn't sound happy but she wasn't overly nasty either.

"I have a goods train I need to collect from Barrow tomorrow morning," Arrow told her brightly. "So for tonight, I am here."

"Your voice sounds a bit… warped," Rebecca commented and Arrow rolled his eyes.

"Well, they did what they could," he said with a sigh. "It's not perfect but it's better than nothing."

"I suppose," Rebecca mused.

He could tell that she wanted to snippy with him but was reframing from doing so for Tornado's sake.

"Hello Tornado," Arrow said to her sweetly. "You look nice tonight."

Tornado despite her extra clean coat looked very deflated and tired.

"Hello Arrow," she mumbled out quietly, not looking at him. "Thank-you, I guess."

Arrow and Rebecca glanced at each other.

"Are… you okay Tornado?" He asked, concerned.

"Yes, yes, I'm just tired," Tornado said dismissively.

Green Arrow, nor Rebecca looked convinced of her words.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right Tornado?" Rebecca told her kindly. "I don't like seeing you like this."

Tornado's face turned into one of annoyance. She frowned and wheeshed steam angrily.

"There's nothing wrong with me, stop pestering me with questions!" She snapped angrily.

"Tornado I just want to help," Rebecca pleaded with her. "Please stop getting defensive everytime I offer to assist you. I know what's happening to Scott is stressing-"

Tornado suddenly started forward with a loud bellowing of steam.

"Tornado!" Rebecca called out to her.

"I'm going to sleep at Ulfstead Castle tonight!" She snapped to Rebecca before quickly disappearing into the distance.

Rebecca gave an exhausted sigh before staring at the track in front of her defeated.

Green Arrow simply stared at the yard before him nervously.

"That… that wasn't because of me was it? I'm- I'm sorry if it was," Arrow said.

"It wasn't your fault," Rebecca assured him. "She's been like this since, well since Scotsman was taken to the castle to try and fix the Cold Iron Sleep. Only one she talks to now is Gordon."

She sounded hurt and sad.

Green Arrow could not blame her. Tornado's attitude had become reclusive and quiet recently. She was constantly tired and snapped at everyone.

It was becoming very worrying.

It could lead to another incident like what had happened with Arrow's burst boiler.

"I just want to help her," Rebecca said, sounding hopeless.

Arrow simply said nothing, unsure of how to respond.

~~~

"Why him? Why 4472? He's not any more special than the rest of us!" Banbury snapped at his designer. "Great Northern is the first of us! He should represent us at the exhibition! You might as well show that prototype instead!"

"That's enough!" Sir Gresley barked at Banbury.

Behind him, Great Northern sat still and silent, his expression motionless and stoic. Beside him, the timid and quiet 4472 looked terrified of his other siblings.

The others never liked him. They thought him odd and weird as he kept to himself and was never proud or boastful.

Great Northern did somewhat look after him and treat him with respect. But Northern also held high standards for 4472 and was disappointed whenever 4472 did not perform as well as he had hoped.

Great Northern was a wise mentor but an unforgiving one. He demanded more than what 4472 could give at times.

"Great Northern has given up his place for the role of Flying Scotsman for 4472," Sir Gresley said. "Therefore 4472 has earned his name as Flying Scotman and will be placed in the exhibition."

Banbury looked ready to burst his valve in sheer anger. Solario also looked furious. They both glared at 4472 who rolled backwards away from them frightened.

Great Northern looked displeased at 4472's reaction. 4472 looked at his buffers in shame.

"I will not be questioned on this," Sir Gresley snapped. "My decision is final, 4472 will be our leading representative. He will run the Flying Scotsman Express Service and you will respect my decision or I will see fit to have you turned into a form more agreeable, is that clear?"

"Yes sir," the engines chorused bitterly.

Gresley turned heel and left with his assistants leaving his engines alone.

"They chose the most pathetic engine for the hardest job!" Solario shrieked angrily, her voice shrill. "I don't believe this!"

4472 backed up even further until he hit the rear buffers with a loud bang. He whimpered under the gaze of the others.

He didn't want this, he just wanted to go back to the sheds with the prototype, Gordon. Gordon was his friend, Gordon didn't treat him like some pathetic weak tank engine like his other siblings.

"I was the one who suggested 4472 to take the role," Great Northern boomed in a deep commanding voice. "The rest of you tired me with all your fighting and childishness. The Flying Scotsman is our most important service, it belongs to an engine who will understand its value and not one who disrespects their crews."

The A1's had a tendency to disobey their crews or give them a hard time.

Great Northern had been chosen as he was one of the few A1's that listened and worked with his crew. However even then there were times when his crew struggled with him.

4472 had shown a remarkable willingness to trust his crews and work with them, something which was needed for such a taxing journey such as the Flying Scotsman.

If a crew couldn't get along with its engine, they wouldn't even last halfway.

Great Northern had put forward the young timid engine who was currently limited to smaller lines.

"You place too much faith in a losing horse North," Banbury sneered but Great Northern held firm.

"You would do well to cease bullying 4472," North said dismissively. "Least you hear from me."

Banbury looked like he was going to argue but saw the look on North's face and immediately backed off.

Solario and Banbury backed away, throwing dirty glares at 4472 who refused to look at them. They left the workshop with huge wheeshes of steam, voicing their displeasure of 4472 having been given a highly sought after job.

"4472," Great Northern addressed the engine who didn't look up at him. "Look at me when I am speaking to you, boy."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," 4472 squeaked, frightened.

He didn't want to upset his big brother.

"You will be the face of the LNER from this point forward," North said sternly. "Which means I expect you to stop whimpering like a coward. You are the premier Express Engine of our fleet, you need to set an example."

4472 wheels trembled. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be special. He just wanted to be left alone.

"I don't want this North, you're making a mistake!" 4472 pleaded desperately. "Please, I just want to be left to my branchlines!"

"Enough!" North snarled and 4472 cowered. "You either shape up or Sir Gresley will find better use for you in the scrapyard. Do I make myself clear?"

4472 fought back the urge to cry. He sniffed.

"Yes sir," 4472 admitted defeated.

"Stop crying, it's pathetic," North said with an air of disgust. "You are an express engine, a build of strength, not a weak little tank engine."

4472 sniffed harder and tried to hide his tears.

"Sorry sir, yes sir," he sniffed. "I'll do better North sir."

"Stop apologising so much," North growled as he began to build up steam to leave. "You have potential, 4472, you just need to stop being so weak."

"Yes sir."

Great Northern began to pull away but he stopped halfway out of Gresley's workshop.

"One more thing, 4472," he called. "Stop associating with that pathetic prototype, Gordon. You're better than that. He's going to be scrapped anyway so… don't get too attached to him. It will hurt less once it happens."

4472 said nothing at that.

He just glared at his older brother.

"Gordon is my friend," 4472 declared angrily. "And he's not pathetic! We wouldn't exist without him!"

Great Northern just looked at him disapprovingly before exiting the workshop without another word.

~~~

Chapter Text

"I thought you would be at Barrow today," Gordon commented as he saw Henry waiting in Knapford yards.

"I was supposed to but I was having trouble with my tubes so I asked Arrow to take it instead," Henry said. "They felt blocked up. But I'm okay now."

Gordon snorted at the mention of Green Arrow.

"That little upstart, taking everyone's jobs," the big blue engine huffed.

"I think he just doesn't want to be locked away in a shed again," Henry sympathised. "I don't blame him for not wanting that."

"Yes well, unlike him you willingly chose to lock yourself in a tunnel," Gordon sneered and Henry blasted steam at him.

"It was more complicated than that and you know it!" He snapped angrily. "I don't like being made fun of it Gordon!"

"I uh- sorry," Gordon mumbled. "It's an old habit I need to stop."

Henry slowly relaxed and sighed to himself.

"Yes, yes you do. It hurts my feelings every time someone brings it up," he said and Gordon looked guiltily at his buffers.

"I'm really sorry Henry, I've been trying to stop but… it's hard for me."

"I know Gordon," Henry smiled at his old friend. "I know."

Gordon's cheeks turned slightly pink and he smiled.

"I heard that you found out that you have lots of siblings," Gordon piped up trying to ease the tension in the air. "That must be exciting."

"It is but- but what if they don't like me? I met one but- I don't know I felt like I gave her the wrong impression," Henry said nervously. "What, what was it like with you and your siblings?"

Gordon seemed to freeze and he suddenly avoided Henry's gaze.

He didn't respond for the longest time, only startled by the little station pilot Phillip as he whistled while he worked.

"I'm sorry," Henry apologised as he realised how uncomfortable Gordon had suddenly become. "If that was too personal, I didn't mean to be so direct."

"It's fine," Gordon ground out in a tone that meant it clearly wasn't. "I'll say this, I was a prototype, my siblings didn't even consider me a sibling of theirs. The only one that did was Scotsman."

Henry cast his eyes downward.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Henry said nervously. "How is… how is Scotsman?"

Gordon gave an exhausted sigh.

He was tired of people asking about his brother. He wanted to tell them but he had sworn to protect him and the secrets of the Gold Dust.

If anyone knew…

"I want to tell you Henry, but I can't," Gordon said curtly. "Let's leave it at that."

"Alright, no more prying," Henry said. "You have my word Gordon."

Gordon smiled. He knew he could rely on Henry to keep his promises.

"Thank-you Henry," he said gratefully. "And tell Green Arrow to keep his nose out of my business next time you see him. Don't think I haven't noticed him trying to stick his nose in places it doesn't belong."

"I'll tell him but I think he'll just ignore me."

Gordon blew off a loud wheesh of steam and slowly moved off to pull his express.

"Stupid cousin of mine," Henry heard Gordon mutter annoyed.

Honestly, Henry felt bad for how Arrow had been treated when he'd been mute.

However it was still well known that Arrow was devious and sneaky.

They'd still have to keep an eye on him.

~~~

"I was expecting Henry," the old man spoke to Green Arrow's driver gruffly.

Gabriel just laughed at the goods yard manager.

"Henry needs to get his tubes cleaned, so we're here instead I'm afraid," he told the man with a smile.

The man frowned but then gazed at Green Arrow, surveying him with a critical gaze.

"Yer engine looking a little small, yer really think he can handle Henry's load?"

"Excuse me! I can most certainly handle it!" Green Arrow huffed, annoyed. "I am much stronger than I look and I do not like being second guessed sir!"

"Apologies," the man grumbled. "Didn't know this one was so touchy."

"Only when he gets questioned about his strength or usefulness," Gabriel smiled. "He's a hard worker, this one."

Green Arrow seemed to puff himself up slightly on his wheels at his driver's worlds. He did like being praised for his effort and this new driver knew exactly how to get into his good graces.

"Alrighty then," the man didn't look at all like he believed Green Arrow's strength but moved off to find workers to do their final checks on the train.

Green Arrow and his crew sat waiting for a long while.

"You seemed agitated," Gabriel noted after a brief silence. "Is something wrong?"

Green Arrow shifted uncomfortably, his metal creaking before he suddenly spoke up.

"I'm worried about Tornado," Arrow said after a long while. "She fled the sheds last night when Rebecca tried to help her."

"I know, we remember," Gabriel said. "But Olivia's order for you to limit your interactions with her unless necessary or Tornado herself requests it still stands."

"I know," Arrow gave a sad sigh. "But, she needs help, or something like the incident involving my boiler may happen again."

Gabriel gave a thoughtful hum.

"Perhaps you could talk to Gordon or Truro?" He suggested.

"Gordon wants nothing to do with me," Arrow said, although he didn't sound bothered.

There was clearly no love between the two cousins.

"Well what about Truro?"

Green Arrow paused.

"I'm not sure."

"Well you don't have any afternoon trains, do you want to go and say hi?"

"What happened to my goods trains from the Clay Pits?"

"The new diesel Bear is taking them."

Green Arrow huffed, annoyed.

"I don't like diesels stealing my trains Gabriel," he grumbled out annoyed.

"I know, but it's not Bear's fault," his driver said with a sympathetic smile. "Besides, Bear is new and he hasn't met the Twins yet."

Green Arrow groaned at the mention of the troublesome twins.

"You know what, the diesel can have my train," he relented and Gabriel laughed.

~~~

"Hello Tornado," Edward came up beside the young engine as she sat at Wellsworth Station.

Tornado looked over at the old engine and gave him a small nervous smile.

"Hello Edward,” she said.

At least she could rely on Edward to not ask about Flying Scotsman.

Edward was someone who made her feel safe or tried to cheer her up when she was upset.

"You seem very upset young Tornado, is everything okay?" Edward asked her kindly.

"I guess," she muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Edward's face turned into one of concern.

"Don't lie to this frail old man now," he remarked in good humour. "I don't think my boiler could take it."

Tornado gave a quick smile but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. She resumed looking at the tracks with a sad gaze.

"Do you want to talk to Gordon?" Edward asked, concerned.

"He won't listen to me," she said quietly. "He says, just accept that this is the way things are now but I don't want to. I can't."

Edward had no idea what she was talking about but he knew that it must have had something to do with the Flying Scotsman.

"Is there anyone you can talk to? Maybe even a human?" He suggested.

"Maybe Ms Olivia but she just had a baby, she'll be too busy to deal with me and my problems," Tornado admitted.

"Well if you explain your situation, she might be able to put time aside to help you," Edward said helpfully. "She was at Ulfstead Castle yesterday. She was worried about stuff going on up there."

"She was?" Tornado asked suddenly brightening up. "Are you sure?"

"Henry and Ryan spoke to her and Stainer yesterday," Edward confirmed. "And if it helps, Arrow came by with his train from Barrow earlier asking if you were okay. He was really concerned."

Tornado felt her face blush slightly.

She still felt awkward around Arrow, especially after the whole fiasco in Ulfstead Mines but it was nice to know that her old friend was still looking out for her regardless.

"What did you tell him?"

"I said if I see you I'll offer a buffer," Edward said with a kind smile. "He's been quite the hard worker that one."

"He always was," Tornado gave a warm smile.

She remembered him working back on the mainland when they had been friends. She simply marvelled at how efficient and reliable he was, even on his bad days.

"I am glad he's part of the North Western Railway," Edward said with a kind smile. "Truro said he was bullied quite viciously on the mainland. Even more so than he was when he was mute here."

Tornado lowered her gaze to stare at her buffers.

"Engines on the mainland are nasty and exhausting, they're always trying to get one over on each other, it's horrible," Tornado said sadly. "When I was new… it was awful, they kept tormenting me even when I did nothing to them. Green Arrow was my only friend back then. He was a gentleman to me. A good friend I could trust, even when everyone said he was awful."

Edward gazed at Tornado with a sad look.

"Maybe you could speak with Arrow?" He suggested hesitantly. "I know you two have your differences but he does seem to genuinely care about you Tornado."

"Perhaps," Tornado said hesitantly. "We- haven't spoken that much since we made up when Scott left for the mainland. Just greetings really."

Edward gave Tornado an encouraging smile.

"I'll go speak to Sir Topham to see if Olivia can see you," he said. "Meanwhile, why don't you go and speak to Green Arrow? It might not work but you can at least try, yes?"

"I'll try Edward," she said with a shy smile.

"Promise?" Edward challenged.

Tornado's cheeks turned red. She couldn't break a promise to Edward and he knew that.

"Yes Edward," she relented quietly. "I promise."

"I'm very glad to hear that Tornado," Edward smiled at the Young Iron.

~~~

Green Arrow returned to his berth at Ulfstead Castle earlier than expected that day.

All the jobs had been taken and so Sir Topham had allowed him to do as he wished for the rest of the day, so long as he didn't disturb other engines doing their jobs.

This annoyed Arrow.

He liked to be busy. He was easily bored and agitated and very restless when his mind was not occupied with work or something interesting.

It was perhaps why he had such an interest in humans and learning about things that wouldn't otherwise concern an engine.

Other engines or his previous crews called him out as his hyper fixated on things at times.

It was hardly his fault he was curious about things.

He once had an unhealthy interest in learning how diesel engines or combustion engines worked which didn't help the bullying he received. These engines were competition and nothing more to the other steam engines.

Some of the crews he had had hated it and just told him to do his jobs when he questioned things. For those crews he became difficult and frustrating to work with but it wasn't his fault. He just wanted to understand why.

Some crews had picked up on his quirks and were often more welcoming and patient with him. For those crews he worked exceedingly well, his work ethic was bar none and not even the GWR's engines could match him when he found his steam.

He sighed as he was returned to Ulfstead Castle, passing through the great iron gates.

He knew Truro would be displeased as Arrow would be bored and bored Arrow meant an agitated and over talkative Arrow.

He didn't mean to upset Truro. It just happened sometimes.

He rolled up to the sheds and saw Stephen with some tourists who gave him a hearty greeting, some of the tourists turning their attention to the unique engine.

He was the first and last of his kind and he was also restored to his former glory so he stopped to bask in it.

The Tourists were good fun. They made him feel special.

That was until they got their dirty fingerprints all over his paint.

He huffed annoyed to which Stephen only laughed at him.

After the tourists left to continue their tour of the castle, Arrow went to his sheds sulkily, complaining about greasy and sweaty hands corroding his new paintwork.

"Oh calm down it can be washed off you silly engine," Gabriel laughed at him but Arrow only pouted.

"You sound like James,” he added. "Going on and on about his paint."

"I don't do that!" Arrow huffed.

"You kinda do though."

"I just like to be clean, okay!" Arrow snapped loudly. "Nothing wrong with that!"

Gabriel just smiled at his engine.

"Chill, I'm just winding you up Arrow," he said.

"I know," Arrow said with a deep sigh.

He didn't mind the teasing, but Gabriel could push his boundaries at times.

As he was turned around and backed into his shed he heard a commotion.

He was confused but didn't see what the fuss was until he'd been completely backed in.

He looked over and saw the City of Truro looking very angry and very flustered but surprisingly, not at him. Rather, the Great Western was glaring down at a scruffy and scrawny looking man in a large coat who was glaring up at him.

"Truro?" Arrow asked, confused. "What's going on?"

Truro raised an eyebrow and looked over at Arrow.

"You weren't supposed to be back until later," was all Truro said with a flat voice.

"A diesel stole my afternoon train," Arrow huffed. "So I'm in the shed early today."

"I see."

"Who's the human?" Arrow asked, staring down at the human curiously.

The human turned his attention to Arrow and scowled at him.

"It's just a smaller version of that idiotic scooter," he sneered looking at Arrow.

"It's Flying Scotsman to you peasant," Truro hissed venomously and Arrow was taken aback by just how nasty the older engine sounded.

"A foolish engine," the man said dismissively.

"What's going on? Who is this?" Green Arrow asked, confused.

Truro gave a deep exhausted sigh.

"You were never supposed to see this," Truro grumbled. "But this, Green Arrow, is Godred."

Green Arrow's eyes suddenly lit up with fascination.

"You mean the one from the story of the Gold Dust?" He asked excitedly. "Were you really an engine once?"

"What's it to you filthy mixed engine?" Godred snapped at him.

"I'm curious, that's all," Arrow said honestly. "And also, my mind gets bored easily."

"You must not have a big mind then."

"A lot of people think that about me," Arrow said unbothered by Godred's snide comments. "It makes it all the better when I prove them wrong."

Godred stared at Arrow, his dismissiveness dumbfounding him.

"Congratulations Godred," Truro said in a sarcastic tone. "You are now Green Arrow's current fixation. Have fun."

Godred just stared confused as Green Arrow gazed at him with an almost hungry gaze.

"Why indeed yes!" Arrow agreed. "It's been so long since something was worth my attention."

Godred just squirmed uncomfortably under the V2's gaze.

~~~

"Sir Gresley? May I speak with you?"

The designer looked up from his draftspaper to gaze at Gordon sitting before him.

"Why yes Gordon, of course you may."

"I wanted to speak to you on behalf of 4472," Gordon said with a glance at said engine who sat some distance away. He avoided both their gazes and stared at the ground.

Sir Gresley frowned and glanced at 4472.

"His name is Flying Scotsman," he corrected Gordon.

"Yes but that's the thing sir," Gordon said with a nervous glance at 4472. "He doesn't want to be the Flying Scotsman. He wants to continue his current jobs."

Sir Gresley's frown deepened.

"I'm sorry sir, that was out of line, I shouldn't have questioned you," Gordon said hastily.

"Did 4472 ask you to question me?"

Gordon looked over at 4472 who now looked terrified. He didn't say anything but he knew Sir Gresley knew the truth.

"I see."

Sir Gresley walked over to 4472 who was now trembling, his wheels shaking in fear.

"I didn't mean offence sir, please," 4472 begged quietly.

Sir Gresley looked up at his engine. His face was hard but his eyes were soft.

"You were my first choice for the Flying Scotsman, 4472," he said. "However I initially gave the role to Great Northern because I did not want you to be bullied anymore than you have."

4472 seemed to stop trembling and looked down at his designer.

"Rea- really sir?" 4472 asked confused.

"Yes. You outperformed all your siblings in the trials and you have a clear respect for your crew," Sir Gresley said with a smile. "You are the best fit for the role but I dislike how the others target you and so I kept you to the smaller roles to keep you out of the way."

4472 looked at his buffers contemplatively.

"But Great Northern said-"

"I told Great Northern that you are my first choice for this role, he was not pleased but even he would not dare to question me," Sir Gresley said.

"Then why did he protect me from the others?"

"Because he knows that you are my favourite and he does not want to displease me."

4472 looked at Gresley then at his buffers again.

"Really sir? I am?"

Sir Gresley smiled at the young nervous engine.

"You easily reached 90 miles without even flinching, you work harder than your siblings and you are my crew's favourite engine to drive," Gresley said, pleased. "I would like to see what you can do at full capacity. The role of Flying Scotsman will allow you to show the world how powerful you truly are."

4472's cheeks turned red and he gave his designer a shy smile.

"You really think I'm that good sir?"

"I designed you to be that good 4472," Gresley said proudly and 4472 felt a confidence rise in him he'd never had before. "You were made for the role of the Flying Scotsman and you will excel at it."

4472 looked over at Gordon who sat watching them quietly.

"What about Gordon sir?" 4472 asked. "He's my friend and- and- Great Northern says he's going to be scrapped!"

Gresley frowned and looked at Gordon who simply looked downtrodden but accepting. He'd accepted his fate long ago.

"I'll make a deal with you 4472," Gresley said and 4472 looked at him curiously. "If you agree to be the Flying Scotsman, my flagship engine, I will personally see to it that Gordon is restored to working order and sold to a Railway which he can work."

4472 eyes lit up and he eagerly accepted.

"Yes sir! I'll be the Flying Scotsman sir! Just let Gordon prove himself sir!"

Gresley gave a chuckle at the engine's sudden eagerness.

"I expect good things from you, Flying Scotsman," he said and the engine previously known as 4472 smiled at him.

"I won't let you down sir," The young Flying Scotsman said proudly. "I'll make you proud sir."

"I have no doubt that you will."

~~~

Chapter Text

"Something is bothering you, Arrow," Truro said as he watched the bigger green engine beside him.

He really was a smaller version of Gresely's famous A1s and A3s. It was uncanny how many traits the engine had to his bigger cousins.

He noticed how when his boiler cooled, the creaks and sounds made were similar and even how Arrow carried himself.

It comforted him in Flying Scotsman's absence

Green Arrow seemed very restless and agitated.

The mixed engine glanced at Truro before giving a deep sigh.

"I am worried about Tornado," he said quietly. "I'm afraid another incident will happen."

"I see," Truro pondered. "I've tried to speak with her but she doesn't respond to me as well as she does with Gordon or Scotsman."

"I had actually been hoping you would have been able to help."

"I have tried," Truro said. "But I feel I am too stern and not as personal with her. I doubt forcing her to talk to me would have any positive results."

"I know, I know," Arrow said. "I guess I have to keep trying, I guess."

"Tornado has a lot of friends. She just needs to realise that." Truro said. "That's not all that's bothering you though."

Green Arrow glanced at Truro. The old man was perceptive and smart. He knew something was wrong with Arrow.

Arrow's expression darkened.

"Mallard," was all Arrow spat with venom.

"Yes, he took your voice," Truro said and a low growling sound came from Arrow. "Do you have any idea why?"

"I don't," Arrow said in a low growl. "I offered him my friendship. I tried to be nice to him because I felt sorry for him. But no, he had to go and use me as a 'test' to see if he could kill Flying Scotsman."

"Stainer says he is doing investigations, but the word is that Mallard may have a part in Cain's operations," Truro said glumly.

Green Arrow looked at Truro confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Mallard is very unpleasant, yes but he's clearly capable of tricking humans as he did with your driver," Truro explained. "What's to say he didn't manipulate Cain while he was younger. His father was director of the museum for a long time after all."

Green Arrow frowned.

It made sense. Richard Dover often left his young son to roam the halls of the museum where Mallard had sat on a plinth.

Mallard could have easily oiled his way into the boy's mind with his words.

When Cain had taken over… a lot of engines that Mallard did not like were suddenly shipped to other branches or suddenly 'put into storage'.

Green Arrow had never cared or noticed, his fury was solely focused on Flying Scotsman at that time. Now that Truro mentioned it.

He'd been blindsided by the A4 who had fed into his hatred of Scotsman, affirming his negative thoughts of the famous engine.

He'd been manipulated.

Green Arrow's face went red with embarrassment and confusion. He'd been an idiot.

"You're a smart engine Green Arrow," Truro said. "But with you distracted by Scotsman, maybe Mallard didn't see much of a threat in you. Until Cain was caught and things started to point to Mallard."

"He tried to silence me," Green Arrow realised. "He knew I would figure things out."

"I always found it quite ridiculous that the excuse of removing your voice box was a 'test run'," Truro said. "I think it was more of Mallard not wanting to admit that he knew you would figure him out and spread rumours in the way that you do."

"Did you- figure this out?" Green Arrow asked.

"No, I'm afraid my mind is not critical in ways like yours is, Olivia came to this conclusion," Truro explained.

Green Arrow frowned.

"Cain had no reason to hate Ms Olivia, he banned her from the museum for no reason when he took the role… even though she was the prime choice to be Scotsman's engineer. Mallard must have been jealous that she chose Scotsman as her ideal engine," Green Arrow theorised. "So she had an idea that Mallard was behind this?"

"Not until very recently, but Yvonne admitting that Mallard was the one who tricked her into removing your voice box was the final clue she needed. Although she's been critical of your actions, Olivia has a deep appreciation of you," Truro said with a smirk. "It also didn't help that someone tried to have Mallard attend the opening of the Sodor branch of the Museum."

"He's trying to get close to Flying Scotsman," Green Arrow said realising. "He's getting desperate to kill him."

Green Arrow stared at his buffers.

"Now that I think about it, Mallard only humoured my friendship to fuel my hatred towards Flying Scotsman," he said quietly. "He always tried to convince me it was better if Scotsman was gone."

He looked ashamed and guilty.

"I never… When I was in that mine with Cain and Scotsman… I couldn't- I didn't want to go through with it…"

"I'm glad that your good nature came through in the end Green Arrow," Truro said with a kind smile. "I didn't know that Mallard was influencing you then, but it was a noticeable change. I hope you can shake free of his influence."

"I want to make up to Scotsman," Green Arrow said quietly. "Sir Gresley would be ashamed of me, acting the way I did. He introduced me to Scotsman personally. I could see that Scotsman was his favourite, he adored him."

"Do you think Mallard was jealous of Scotsman being Gresley's favourite?" Truro asked.

"I don't know," Arrow sighed. "I really don't. But I know that Mallard is an entitled spoiled child with a super inflated ego."

"Everyone knows that," Truro said with a roll of his eyes. "It's obvious when you first meet him."

Green Arrow gave an amused snort.

"I know you can't speak about him but pass my regards on to Flying Scotsman when you next see him?" Green Arrow said with a small hopeful smile. "He protected me and watched out for me when I was in peril when he had no reason to. I'd like to repay him for that."

"I can certainly do that for you Green Arrow," Truro said, giving him a kind smile. "For what it's worth, Flying Scotsman worries about you and cares about you deeply."

"I'm just now realising that Truro," Green Arrow said with a warm smile. "It took me a while but I'll get there."

"You were never that good at recognising people's intentions," Truro observed and Green Arrow blushed.

"I know, I'm getting better at it though," Arrow said with a cheeky smile. "Thanks for putting up with me Truro."

"You're intelligent, interesting and clever, I adore our conversations Arrow," Truro assured him. "You've grown a lot in the past year. You're taking responsibility for yourself. I'm proud of you."

Arrow said nothing. He just blushed deeply.

It was nice to be complimented by an engine he looked up to.

~~~

"Ah Henry! I was hoping to bump into you today!" Sir Topham said as he waved Henry down at Knapford Station.

Gordon, who was sleeping at the platform, opened an eye lazily and gazed at them curiously.

"Good Afternoon Sir!" Henry greeted the man.

"Mr Stainer tells me you want to get to know some of your class's siblings Henry!" The Fat Controller grinned.

"I um, yes sir, yes I would," Henry said with a hopeful smile. "If that's not too much trouble sir."

"Well it just so happens that a few of your siblings are wanting to meet you," the man said and Henry's eyes lit up.

"Really sir?"

"Yes! I've had several railways contact me trying to arrange trips to Sodor for their Black 5's. I think you made quite an impression on the Lady Magpie," Sir Topham chuckled.

"Wait, Henry has siblings?" Thomas piped up from the other end of the station. "Since when?"

"Why have we never heard of them before?" James demanded.

"I only just found out about them myself," Henry said quietly. "See, I never considered myself a real LMS Black 5, I was rebuilt into one so I thought I didn't count."

"If it makes you feel any better, you have Henry Stainer's blessing," Sir Topham smiled. "Olivia Gresley's too I might add."

Gordon frowned at Sir Topham's words but no one noticed.

"We'll have two LMS Black 5's coming to the opening of the Sodor Branch of the Museum, they'll be carting rail enthusiasts from the mainland in the place of Conner and Caitlin," Sir Topham explained.

Henry beamed proudly.

"Thank-you sir! I can't wait to meet them sir!"

Sir Topham chuckled.

"I knew you'd be happy. Keep up the good work all of you!" He called to his engines as he disappeared into his office.

Thomas rolled up to Henry's side.

"You have siblings! That's so cool!" He said excitedly and Henry blushed at being the centre of attention.

"Huh, I don't see what all the fuss it's," James huffed and Thomas glared at him.

"Why can't you be happy for Henry?" He scolded. "He deserves something nice."

James gave a smile.

"I just hope they don't take attention away from me," he grumbled and Henry laughed.

"Don't be worried James, nothing will take attention away from you if you keep your paint clean," Henry assured the red engine.

James brightened up at that.

"I suppose you're right Henry," he said with a proud puff and a smug grin which made Thomas roll his eyes.

"So how many siblings do you have?" Thomas asked.

"Stainer said I had 18 other siblings."

"18!?" James shouted out in shock. "We'll be invaded! The Island will be taken over by Henry's, how terrible!"

Henry laughed.

"I don't think they'll be able to come here all at once James," he assured the Red Engine. "They're all at different railways."

"Still 18 Henry's," James muttered to himself. "Sounds horrifying."

"Why? I think that would be fun!" Thomas teased.

"You have a weird idea of fun," James said, shooting Thomas a worried look as Henry blew his whistle to leave.

"Congratulations Henry!" Thomas called after him as he and James began immediately arguing over what Henry's siblings would be like.

Neither of them noticed Gordon as he pulled out of the station without a word, an unreadable gaze upon his face.

~~~

"Where are we going?" Tornado asked her driver Matthias. "Why are we heading to Henry's forest?"

Her driver simply smiled at her.

"To see an old friend, Ms Tornado," he said and Tornado just huffed.

"That doesn't answer my question," she snapped back.

"It's a surprise," he said simply and Tornado gave a loud irritated sigh.

"Fine then," she snapped, annoyed. "Keep your secrets."

Due to Tornado's constant foul mood these days, they found the Young Iron starting to become snarkier and more bold.

Which was good as Tornado was finally starting to come into her own but that came with issues. She was becoming unruly and rebellious.

Matthias often joked she was coming into her teenage years which wasn't half wrong on his part.

They pulled into a siding by the mainline and Tornado was surprised to see Ryan sitting up a head on the same siding.

"Hello Ryan," she greeted the small tank engine surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello Ms Tornado!" Ryan greeted the bigger engine cheerily. "I brought a friend!"

Tornado raised an eyebrow curiously but then a wide smile stretched across her face when she saw who it was climbing off Ryan's footplate.

"Ms Olivia!" She greeted her first engineer happily. "I missed you!"

Olivia laughed.

"I missed you too dear girl," the woman greeted her kindly. "Edward said you need someone to talk to."

"I um- yes, yes I do, if that's alright with you Ms Olivia," Tornado said with a slight blush in her cheeks.

"Of course sweet Storm Cell," Olivia said as she climbed on to Tornado's running board to sit with her.

Matthias and her fireman went over to Ryan and he left to give them some privacy.

"Henry's forest is quite wonderful isn't it," Olivia remarked as they sat on the siding that overlooked a small valley. "That engine has quite a gentle soul."

Tornado looked out at the valley with Olivia.

"He's always so kind to me," Tornado said quietly.

"Why wouldn't he be? You're a lovely young lady," Olivia said and Tornado looked down at her.

"The other big engines on the mainland didn't think so," she said with a saddened face. "Don't you remember how they bullied me?"

"I remember," Olivia said. "They've eased now as there's new steam engines being built. Lady of Legend had more of a warm welcome than you did."

Tornado pouted. "She has Pendennis and the other Didcot engines to vouch for her, I never had that."

"You have Flying Scotsman, most engines take his word if only to try and seek his approval," Olivia pointed out. "If we had known that he would have vouched for you, we would have introduced the two of you earlier."

Tornado didn't respond. Her mind thought of the Scotsman's current situation.

It honestly freaked her out. She didn't like it. She hated it.

Flying Scotsman was an engine, not a soft squishy human.

"You do not agree with what happened to Scotsman," Olivia stated picking up on Tornado's silence.

"I don't like it Ms Olivia, it disturbs me," Tornado admitted. "I tried to accept it but… I just can't, it's too… I don't know."

Olivia looked up into Tornado's face. She looked distraught.

"It's okay to feel uncomfortable, you can't help a feeling like that," Olivia assured Tornado. "But yelling at Scotsman and telling him you'd never accept him was crossing a line. Scott was deeply hurt by your words Tornado."

"I'm sorry, I freaked out I-" Tornado avoided Olivia's gaze. "I didn't mean to upset him, it was an impulsive reaction."

"I won't force you to apologise but I would like you too," Olivia told her. "I know Gordon has been demanding you apologise for upsetting his brother and that's been causing you to become even more upset but things cannot go on like this."

"I know Ms Olivia, I promise I will apologise but I just don't see Scotsman in that human. But I know it's him, it's hard to explain," Tornado said, fumbling her words.

"Maybe you should try to understand him, reconnect with him," Olivia said with a smile. "You might be pleasantly surprised. He's still that ridiculous green engine, just in a different form."

Tornado looked at Olivia who was looking at her encouragingly.

"Okay Ms Olivia, I'll try for you," Tornado mumbled softly. "And for Scott. I really do want to believe it's him, I miss him so much but it's like, part of my mind can't see that human as Scotsman."

"Over time that will change. The Culdee Fell engines didn't accept Godred at first," Olivia explained.

"But I thought Godred wasn't allowed near his Railway anymore?" Tornado questioned.

"Yes but that was for unrelated reasons," Olivia said nothing more. "Reasons I cannot go into with you Ms Tornado."

"I know, I know, secret gold dust stuff," Tornado said with a sigh.

"Secret stuff that Green Arrow insists on digging his mitts into," Olivia huffed annoyed. "He's become quite the pest for Sir Robert."

"He doesn't mean any harm Ms Olivia," Tornado explained. "He is just curious about things and doesn't let them go until he's learnt everything about them. He's always been like that. When we were friends, he was obsessed with learning about miniature engines like the Arlesdale ones. He used to convince his crew to go out and see them when he had spare time. It was very endearing."

Olivia stared out at the valley, watching as a flock of ravens started riding the winds.

"Have you and Green Arrow made up?"

"Yes but we're not really friends again," Tornado said sadly. "You told me to stay away from him so I haven't really talked to him apart from saying hello."

Olivia gave a thoughtful hum.

"I know you regret your actions that caused Arrow to burst his boiler but I think it's cruel to ban you from seeing your friend. You may see him whenever you please as long as Arrow wants your company," she said and Tornado's eyes lit up.

"Thank-you ma'am! I can't explain how much I've missed Arrow!" Tornado said happily.

Olivia gave a soft chuckle.

"Can't have my little storm cell sad now can I?" She beamed. "Speaking of which, the trust has fired your build brother up for the first time."

Tornado looked amazed.

"Really!? He's sentient?" She asked happily.

"Not yet," Ms Olivia said and Tornado's face fell. "They're still running tests on him and he hasn't woken up yet. But they say in the next 6 months he'll be awake."

"Oh," Tornado looked away from her sadly.

"But, still when the event happens the Trust have reconsidered your absence," Olivia said stroking her smoke box. "I hope you get along well with him."

"I hope so too," Tornado sighed quietly. "Sooo… when do I get to meet your baby? Tiny humans are the cutest."

Olivia chuckled. "He's only a few weeks old Tornado. You'll meet him, just be patient."

"I have no patience!" Tornado shouted. "I've waited so long already!"

"And you complain when Scotsman calls you a small puff," Olivia said, rolling her eyes at Tornado's childish behaviour.

"I am not a small puff!" Tornado shouted even louder, angry at the hated nickname.

Olivia only laughed at her for that.

~~~

"What on Earth were you thinking?" Great Northern snapped at Flying Scotsman. "Racing a speed boat? You could have hurt your passengers or your crew!"

"My crew said it was fine!" The Flying Scotsman argued. "And the man and his boat wanted to race me! He was practising for a race or something."

"Such ridiculous behaviour!" North snapped angrily. "You make the LNER look like reckless fools!"

The Flying Scotsman blasted steam at his older brother.

"It was a bit of fun! Something you'd never understand!" He snapped at him.

Great Northern looked utterly offended at Scotsman's actions.

"How dare you be so insolent with me!" He snapped angrily. "You will watch your tone with me 4472!"

"It's Flying Scotsman!" The Scotsman snapped right back at him. "And I'm sick of you constantly criticising and belittling me! Why can't you just let me do my job in peace!"

"Because you only got the job because you're Gresley's favourite!" Northern roared in the Flying Scotsman's face.

The Flying Scotsman stared at his elder brother in shock.

"I knew it," he said quietly. "You are jealous of me."

Great Northern glared at Flying Scotsman.

"The Flying Scotsman was promised to me, not you, 4472," North said in a deadly quiet voice.

"Maybe if you had reached Sir Gresley's expectations, he would have kept his promise," the Scotsman spat angrily.

"If I had it my way you would be scrapped!" North retorted coldly.

He immediately regretted it when he heard jeering from his other siblings.

"I knew it! I knew Great Northern only tried to please Gresley!" He heard Hermit jeer behind him.

Several of their other siblings joined in on their jeering and mocking of Flying Scotsman who looked deeply hurt.

"You'll be the first of us to be scrapped!" He heard someone yell and the engine numbered 4472 eyes began to water.

He quickly backed out of the shared roundhouse, the shouts and cheers echoing in his ears.

"4472 wait!" Great Northern called but the retreating engine did not hear him. "I'm sorry."

Flying Scotsman made a beeline for Sir Gresley's personal workshop as he always used to do when the other's picked on him.

He stopped when Gordon was sold to a Railway Scotsman had never heard of before.

A little Island off the coast of the mainland from what Sir Gresley had told him.

The Scotsman was jealous, it sounded nicer than the current hellhole he lived in.

He entered the workshop, all the engineers were slowly packing up for the night.

"Hello Flying Scotsman," one of them greeted him. "Have you come in for a tune up?"

"No sir, just somewhere to sleep for the night."

"As you wish Flying Scotsman," the engineer went on his way while Scotsman backed himself into the very back corner, hidden from view in the shadows.

As the workers left for the day, the workshop became lonely.

It was the first time since Gordon had left that he had slept here.

A cold vice-like feeling coiled around his boiler as he suddenly felt he couldn't hold his tears back any longer.

He missed Gordon.

There was no one else. No one else he could talk to. No one would listen.

He hoped Gordon was happy. That he had made friends on his little island.

Would Gordon even remember him?

Would anyone?

He didn't know how long he had sat crying but sometime during the night he had fallen asleep.

The morning sun was shining through the windows in the roof of the workshop, waking him from his uneasy sleep.

He sat there for a few minutes and then realised that the cold vice-like feeling was still there.

He still felt as lonely as he ever had.

He gave a shaky breath as he felt tears burn down his face.

He didn't even hear someone begin to open the workshop.

"Flying Scotsman," he suddenly heard a voice at his side.

The Flying Scotsman looked over and saw Sir Gresley standing there, looking up at him, the same stoic look that was always on his face staring at him.

"Sir," he croaked weakly as tears fell down his face.

There was a long pause as Gresley gazed up at his prized engine.

"Your crew informed me of what happened," he said finally. "I have disciplined several engines including Great Northern."

The Flying Scotsman said nothing. He just stared at the ground hopelessly.

"You are clearly not in a good shape to run today," Gresley stated observing Scotsman. "I will have Sunstar replace you for this day's lines."

"I'm sorry sir," Flying Scotsman apologised hoarsely. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. And I'm sorry for racing that boat."

Gresley waved his hand dismissively.

"No harm done," he said. "Besides, the publicity may be good for business."

"Publicity?"

"A few upstarts want to race my prized engine against a speed boat and a plane," he said. "If you win it would be good for the LNER. And another step towards that elusive 100mph."

The Scotsman stared at the ground.

He didn't know if he could go 100mph. It seemed impossible right now. Almost anything did.

Great Northern's words had affected him more than he liked to admit. Not to mention Gordon's absence was weighing heavily upon him.

"Regardless, I want you to stay here today," Gresley informed him. "Having you in person will make it easier for us to use reference for our new design."

"New design sir?"

"Essentially a mixed traffic version of your own class," he explained. "Smaller, but just as strong."

The Flying Scotsman felt a little bit happier at his designer's words.

At least he could be useful today.

That was something.

"I'll be happy to help sir."

"Thank-you Flying Scotsman."

…

>> find lady <<

~~~

The Flying Scotsman almost choked as he awoke from the memory replaying in his dreams. He laid confused in his bed, the strange feeling of a warm, soft, fleshy body still very alien to him.

He lay still staring up at the canopy of his four poster bed as the glow of moonlight shone through his window.

He could feel that his face was wet from tears that had obviously fallen during his sleep.

The memories weren't as horrifying as the nightmares that often plagued him in the past, but they were just as unsettling to him.

He found them becoming more and more vivid and realistic every time they appeared. He was also becoming more aware of them. Like he was watching the events from a different perspective, like he could almost reach out and touch Sir Gresley before him.

He didn't want to remember his youth. He didn't want to remember how awful his siblings had been to him, particularly Great Northern.

North had done nothing but made him feel terrible, constantly belittle and insult him when he didn't approve of 4472.

He'd never even given him the courtesy to refer to him as Flying Scotsman. Only 4472.

It had taken years but Scotsman had suppressed the memories of his nasty siblings, locking them away.

Great Northern was a joke now. A failed prototype that his siblings had considered worse than Gordon and in his last years mocked even worse than they had Gordon or himself.

The final nail in the coffin for him being designated a station pilot while 4472 grew even more famous and gained a new lease of life while North had been sent to the scrapyard.

The Scotsman frowned and closed his eyes.

Why was he remembering North all of a sudden? Why now? Why 50 years after he was scrapped?

Was it the gold dust? Was it warping his mind and making him relive through his memories? Was this some kind of test?

And there was that voice again, telling him to find a lady of some kind.

The Scotsman gave an exhausted sigh and rolled onto his side.

He closed his eyes and pleaded for a sleep with no more journey's through memory lane.

~~~

Chapter Text

“Excuse me little saddle tank, is this the way to Knapford?” Percy looked up and saw a glossy black engine towering over him, her face looking unimpressed by the little engine before her.

He felt a little intimidated but held his ground against the massive engine. It looked a bit like Henry.

“Yes, just follow the mainline to the coast, it terminates at Knapford,” Percy said and the engine gave a curt smile.

“Thank-you little engine,” she said.

“Percy,” Percy said with a scowl, annoyed. He already dealt with Gordon calling him ‘little’ all the time, he didn’t want another engine to start doing it to him.

The engine cracked a smile at his feisty retort.

“I like you Percy,” the Engine smiled before moving off and continuing on her journey.

Percy stared after her confused.

“I wonder if that was one of Henry’s siblings that Thomas told me about,” he wondered to himself.

~~~

Duck was at Brendam docks when Green Arrow rolled in with a heavy train full of goods for export. He didn’t even notice the big green engine roll in until he was right beside him.

“Hello Duck,” Green Arrow blew his whistle and grinned at him, startling the small pannier engine who gave a small yelp.

“Could you not sneak up on an engine like that?" Duck asked, annoyed.

"Apologises Duck," Arrow said. "But you really should be paying attention at a busy dockyard like this."

"That's what I've been saying!" Cranky grumbled above them.

"I know, it's not very Great Western of me," Duck said ashamed.

Cranky rolled his eyes.

"Oh here we go," he muttered and Duck glared up at him.

"Allo Arrow!" Salty greeted the big green engine. "It's good to see ya with a nice new boiler and back with us again! I 'ear you got yer voice again!"

"Why yes, you finally get to hear my lovely voice, Salty!" Green Arrow beamed. "Almost as nice as yours."

"Oh can it ya terrible flirt!" Salty blushed and Arrow laughed at him.

Salty checked around him suspiciously before rolling closer to the bigger steam engine.

"Say you're sleeping up at the castle aren't ya?" Salty asked and Arrow raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, why?"

"There's stories around that place ya know?" Salty whispered. "Stories about ghosts and engines that passed long ago."

Duck sighed but Green Arrow looked intrigued.

"They're just stupid children stories Salty," Cranky said, not wanting to listen to another one of the diesels stories.

"Stories often relate to the places they come from," Arrow interjected. "Sometimes they have a purpose, like to teach kids to stay away from danger or they're based on people's experiences."

"Oh aye!" Salty agreed, happy to have someone defend him for once and a big engine too. "There's this one tale about a little engine that got chased by a beast who wanted to scrap her and use her metal and turn it into jewellery because her metal was so pure and her colour was so bright."

Duck tried to pretend to be disinterested but he couldn't help but be intrigued.

"She was so frightened and so scared that she climbed a high mountain that she normally couldn't climb. Once she got to the top, the tracks ended and the beast trapped her there," Salty said.

"Well what did she do?"

"Well her crew tried to distract the beast but to no avail," Salty's voice began rising dramatically. "So the little engine, without her crew, charged the beast and managed to push it down the mountain. But halfway down, a sinkhole opened up and consumed the two!"

Green Arrow shifted uncomfortable as he was reminded of how Tornado had almost fallen down into that mindshaft and could have been lost forever.

"They never found the two, but years later, they found so much gold and riches in the caverns below that the air shimmered like it was filled with fine gold!"

"You mean," Green Arrow interrupted. "Like Gold Dust?"

"Exactly like Gold Dust!" Salty exclaimed excitedly. "They say the little engine and that beast still struggle down there, at the bottom of the mind and that their spirits can grant wishes, depending on the nature of a person's heart! They say they can even allow you to speak with the dead."

"Utterly ridiculous!" Cranky scoffed. "Your stories have become worse Salty!"

"I thought that story was lovely Salty, thank-you," Arrow smiled encouragingly at the diesel.

"Ya see Cranky? At least someone likes my stories!"

"He's just trying to be nice, you rust bucket!" Cranky snapped back at him.

"Yer need to have some fun once in a while yer daft crane," Salty shot back before going off to shunt cars for some other trains.

Cranky just rolled his eyes again.

"You're all loaded up Duck," he told the Pannier who gave a peep in response.

"Thank-you Cranky," Duck called to him. He glanced at Arrow who looked deep in thought. "Well I'll see you later, Arrow. Please give my regards to Truro!"

"What? Oh- of course Duck! I certainly will!" The V2 fumbled with his words a bit.

Duck gave him a strange look but moved on anyway.

Green Arrow simply stared at the Pannier as he disappeared, thoughts swimming in his mind.

~~~

Gordon was sleeping in the yard when he heard the bark of an unfamiliar engine coming into Knapford Station.

It sounded like Henry, only there was a more confident air to their stroke.

He opened his eyes and stared at the line ahead as he saw a large black engine thundering in with a proud look on its face.

It sounded its whistle, a deep and threatening sounding thing. The dark LMS had a proud grin on its face as it noticed the passengers that had stopped to stare at the strange engine coming into the station before them.

Gordon felt a little intimidated by the engine but didn't let it show.

This must be one of Henry's siblings.

His mood soured. Henry's siblings sounded proud of their misfit brother.

It was such a contrast to his own experiences with his own siblings who only mocked him and told him he was to be scrapped. The exception being Flying Scotsman of course.

It stopped at the platform and passengers gathered around it to stare and behold the strange engine.

"Who are you?" The little box diesel cab Phillip asked as he approached the engine with wonder written all over his face.

"I am Stainer's proud work horse, Black 5 Number 5110," the engine said with a confident female voice.

"Wow," Phillip said breathlessly. He stared up at the engine clearly besmitten.

"Phillip, why aren't you shunting trucks for Edward's next train?" The Fat Controller scolded as he came out of his office.

"Sorry sir," the little boxcab said apologetically before blushing and quickly getting back to his job.

The Fat Controller then turned his attention to the large visiting engine before him.

"Ah hello there! Welcome to the North Western Railway!" He held his arms out welcomingly toward the engine. "I hope you enjoy your visit to my railway!"

"I'm sure that I will kind sir," the Black 5 smiled at him. "The Severn Valley send their regards. I am 5110, Biggin Hill, however most call me Hillsy."

"Well I am glad to have you here Hillsy," the Fat Controller chuckled. "I must say, you look in excellent condition."

Hillsy smiled.

"I am well looked after at my railway sir, we Black 5's take pride in looking out for each other," she said proudly. "Our big brother 5025 will arrive in the coming days. He is very excited to meet our newest sibling. As am I."

"Ah well speaking of him, Henry's out at the mines today, he won't be back until the evening," the Fat Controller said. "I wasn't expecting you this early."

"My crew thought it better to arrive early," Hillsy explained. "They are rail enthusiasts themselves. They'd like some time to look at your engines if that is convenient with you sir?"

"Why yes of course! Please, please! You are more than welcome to explore my railway!" Sir Topham Hatt said excitedly as he rushed over to her crew to meet them.

Hillsy looked around the station before suddenly noticing Gordon sitting in the siding next to the station in the yard

"A Gresley Antique, how quaint!" She remarked and Gordon almost burst a valve in anger.

"An antique? An antique!" He thundered angrily. "I am not an antique, how dare you!"

Hillsy just gave a soft chuckle.

"Dear me, you are quite unlike 4472," she said with a laugh. "I apologise, I thought you could take the joke like he would. He's such a fun engine after all. I thought you would be the same."

Gordon wheeshed steam angrily.

"Well I am NOT my brother," Gordon snapped, still very angry. "And I do not like being called an antique!"

"I have upset you, I apologise," Hillsy said, not sounding apologetic at all. "Allow us to start again, I am number 5110 and my name is Biggin Hill or Hillsy. And you are?"

"Number 4, Gordon," he said curtly.

"What about your mainland number dear?"

Gordon frowned. He didn't know if Hillsy was trying to provoke him or not but her attitude towards him was irritating him.

"I didn't have a mainland number," he ground out. "I was never put into service on the mainland."

"Probably for the best really."

Gordon exploded with fury at that comment

"What's that supposed to mean!" He snarled angrily but he was ignored as the Fat Controller and her crew returned with peels of laughter.

"Well then Hillsy, shall you take us on a tour of the island, old girl?" Her driver chirped at her while her fireman helped Sir Topham Hatt into her cab. Sir Topham happily examined Hillsy's controls and inspected her cab.

"Why it would be my pleasure sir!" Hillsy said with a cheery voice. She ignored the nasty glare that Gordon was now giving her.

"What a marvellous engine you are!" Sir Topham had said, excitedly as he looked her over.

"I strive to please sir!" Hillsy beamed and with a loud whistle and her loud bark she began to pull away leaving a furious and insulted Gordon to glare at the back of her tender as she sped away.

~~~

“That Tornado girl, she’s never going to accept you,” Godred’s voice spoke from behind him.

The Flying Scotsman narrowed his eyes and frowned but didn’t look up from his book. Godred had a way of getting on his nerves.

He honestly had no beef with the old engine turned human but Godred insisted on constantly antagonising him for no reason whatsoever.

Sir Robert had to constantly stop Godred from doing so and yet there was no sign of Godred stopping.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Godred,” he said curtly and bluntly.

The dishevelled man sat opposite him, leaning on the small coffee table in front Scotsman. He rudely reached over and grabbed the book and yanked it from the man.

The Scotsman just sighed and looked at the man towering over him.

"What do you want from me?" The Scotsman asked bitterly. "Is there any reason you insist on antagonising me? You've done it the moment we met."

Godred threw the book on the table and crossed his arms and glared down at him saying nothing.

"Are you disappointed that I didn't die?" The Scotsman asked him. "That I took attention away from Sir Robert and the others?"

"They're not important, humans come and go, always has been for over 100 years," Godred huffed.

"Then why do you insist on acting like a spoiled brat?" The Scotsman growled and Godred's expression turned furious.

"That's rich coming from you of all people," Godred snapped angrily. "The precious golden child from the mainland. I bet you got everything you ever wanted, the precious favourite."

The Flying Scotsman simply rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. He was tired of this, tired of this charade with Godred.

"Sure, I'm spoilt," Scotsman concluded. He began to be dismissive of Godred. "I've had more chances than most other engines. But if you insist on antagonising everyone around you then you won't get any."

Godred frowned even deeper but Scotsman was now ignoring him.

He stood to leave but Godred simply followed him, scowling like a small child.

"I don't understand why you succeeded where others failed," Godred scolded. "Why you of all engines? Why not those who deserved it?"

"I guess we'll never know will we, North?"

"North? Who the hell is North?"

The Flying Scotsman froze in his tracks. He'd accidentally called Godred, Great Northern. Godred seemed to jump on how uncomfortable he'd become and grabbed Scotsman's hand.

"It's no one," The Scotsman muttered before trying to move off quickly but Godred held on to his hand and squeezed it so hard it began to hurt him.

"Let go of me!" The Scotsman yelped in pain. “Stop!”

"What makes you so special?!" Godred snarled. "Why do you get everything you want and all I get is pain and abandonment! All my friends turned against me! I have nothing left!"

"Stop it! Let go of me!"

"Godred!" Sir Robert's shout came from the end of the hall. "Let go of him right now or I will call Mr Richards this instant!"

Godred turned and glared at the Earl but the distraction was enough to lose his grip on Scotsman who immediately freed himself and blindly ran away, this strange soft body full of an impulse to get away.

Nothing made sense in this useless stupid body, the emotions felt some much more overpowering, his senses were so sensitive and he struggled to deal with all the new added input into his mind.

He heard the muffled yells of people around him, calling to him but he ignored them.

Everything had suddenly become too loud, too bright and too painful without warning, leaving him confused and dazed.

He stumbled and staggered his way blindly through the castle until his breathing hurt and a sharp burning pain that made him feel like he overexerted himself filled every inch of his body.

He fell to his hands and knees onto a cold concrete floor, his vision blurred and every breath he took was dry and painful making his chest hurt.

He attempted to struggle to his feet but failed miserably before his muscles gave out and he collapsed against the ground exhausted, his entire body shaking uncontrollably.

He heard voices, he was aware of people touching him but he didn't have the strength to move anymore as he felt a familiar darkness pulling at his body.

He began to panic. It was the same darkness he recognised as the Cold Iron Sleep. It was still coming to get him, he hadn't escaped it after all

"Is that… Flying Scotsman?"

A familiar voice suddenly called out in the darkness as a golden warmth suddenly came from nowhere and wrapped around him protectively.

"It's okay," Scotsman heard a kind female voice echo eerily inside his own head. "You're safe, I've got you."

The tendrils of darkness fled and left him as gold dust seemed to envelope him and wrap him in a warm comforting embrace as his consciousness slipped into a deep sleep.

~~~

Green Arrow had finished a job for the afternoon and was getting his pistons and valve gear seen for a routine check up when a tall thin man with golden brown hair and wearing mostly green stumbled into the building.

Gabriel and his fireman had instantly stopped what they were doing to assist. They crowded around him, desperate to help the strange man.

Green Arrow watched, tense and frightened at what was going on. He didn't understand the human body but he knew they were frail and sensitive.

But still, something about this human felt off. This man looked human, but somehow, Arrow knew that he wasn't. The human gave off the same feeling as Godred.

This human was an engine's soul in a flimsy human vessel.

He watched as Sir Robert and several of his assistants burst into the room and made a beeline for the man who was lying crumpled on the floor.

Arrow's suspicion intensified as he heard calls for gold dust and mentions of the cold iron sleep.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what was going on.

He suddenly saw a huge crack slowly appear in the strange man's face and his skin began to turn a strange greyish colour and a chill ran through his boiler.

This was not something normal for a human, he 100% knew that.

It was like when his siblings had succumbed to the cold iron sleep. Their faces had cracked and disappeared. Green Arrow felt a primordial fear grip him but he pushed it back angrily.

"The Gold Dust!" Sir Robert urged desperately to one of his assistants. "Quickly now!"

A vial was placed to the man's lips and a golden glow seemed to emanate from it. He calmed as he was given to golden 'fluid' and the crack in his face slowly disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Despite himself, Green Arrow couldn't resist the urge to speak his thoughts.

"Is that… Flying Scotsman?" He asked.

He was however ignored as the people around the strange man solely focused on him.

Slowly the man began to calm and relaxed into a deep sleep as finally, the castle's own medical crew appeared with a gurney to treat and care for him.

There was some fussing between Sir Robert, the medics and Green Arrow's crew before the Earl turned heel and looked straight at Arrow.

"You will not mention what you saw here today to anyone, is that clear?" He said sternly and Green Arrow swallowed nervously.

"Yes sir," he said quietly. He glanced hesitantly at the man who was being carefully bundled onto the gurney. "Will he be alright?"

Sir Robert's stoic gaze faltered for a moment.

"We don't know, but I hope so," he said with a glance back at the now still and unconscious man.

"Is that- is that Flying Scotsman sir?" Arrow asked. Sir Robert gave an exasperated sigh.

"You don't stop with the questions do you?" He said and Green Arrow looked at his buffers awkwardly.

"I'm just curious sir," he admitted quietly. "I don't mean any offence. I can't help myself sometimes, I'm sorry."

Sir Robert waved a hand dismissively.

"It's good to be curious, Green Arrow," he assured him. "But insisting upon knowing things which people might want private or don't want others to know may offend or harm others."

"Yes sir," Arrow said quietly, looking dejected. "I'm sorry sir."

"But I will confirm this for you to ease your mind," Sir Robert said with an encouraging smile. "That was indeed Flying Scotsman."

"Oh!" Arrow hadn't expected an answer.

"I trust I have your confidence on this as I do with the others, Arrow?" Sir Robert asked.

"Yes sir, no one else will hear a word sir."

"I'm glad to hear that."

~~~

Tangmere or Rebecca found herself arriving later than usual at Vicarstown that evening due to delays on the mainline. The sun was already down and it was now nighttime.

Gordon had been in a particularly back mood today but she didn't know why. He was complaining about one of the Black 5's that had arrived earlier that day.

Rebecca didn't care much for it, she'd had her own problems to deal with, what with maintenance slowing her down on the mainline.

As she sat at the station she noticed an A4 approaching the station from the mainland. It could have been Spencer but as the engine got closer, she saw that it was blue.

Perhaps it was Bittern visiting his friends. He was a known social butterfly. He kept up appearances whenever he could and he loved any excuse for attention.

She squinted, trying to read the nameplate. As it got closer Rebecca frowned.

The nameplate said Bittern. But the number on his buffer was missing or covered up.

She stared confused.

Something seemed off.

The engine didn't sound like Bittern. It sounded like an engine that hadn't pumped its pistons in a long time.

She couldn't even call out or speak to the engine as it roared through Vicarstown without even slowing or stopping.

Although Rebecca and Bittern were not friends, Bittern was friendly to most engines he met. Well, the bigger engines anyway.

He would always greet a fellow pacific or a big express engine no matter the railway or class with a shrill whistle. The Gresley A4's liked any excuse to get more attention.

Rebecca frowned and gazed back at where the strange A4 had disappeared into the night.

Something was very wrong here.

She didn't like this.

She didn't like this at all.

~~~

Chapter Text

"Did you ask Bittern for the opening of the Sodor Branch?" Stainer sounded tired and annoyed.

Olivia frowned, turning away from little baby Scott who played in his crib babbling happily to himself and repositioning her phone against her head.

"Bittern is currently at Shildon being a nuisance," she said with a furrowed brow. "He's on display for a month."

"Funny because a blue LNER A4 just showed up at Ulfstead Castle last night, its driver claiming Bittern was invited to the opening," Stainer said. “It had the right paperwork and everything with it too.”

"What?"

"My thoughts exactly, however this engine hasn't spoken and is being suspiciously quiet," Stainer said, suspicion clear in his voice. "Its number has also been covered up."

Olivia felt a cold chill run down her spine.

"It's Mallard," she said. “He’s gotten some people at the museum to vouch for him. It would be even easier with both of us here.”

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

"What do we do?"

Olivia frowned.

"Well he'll be after Flying Scotsman so double the guards and only use Sir Robert's or the North Western, none of the NRM'S, we'll have him moved somewhere safe," Olivia turned back as baby Scott began to cry. "It's okay darling mummy's here."

"I'll organise it right away," Stainer sounded like he was on a mission now. "What about Arrow, you said he'd be a target for Mallard as well."

"Have Sir Topham move him to another shed. Perhaps with Tangmere and Tornado," Olivia suggested. "And ask him to double the security on the Sodor Steamworks. No one without authority goes near the Scotsman's engine."

"I'm on it," Stainer said. "I assume trust no one in the NRM right now?"

"Yes, we don't know how deep this rot runs."

"Let's nip this in the bud then Lady Gresley. Your Grandfather's engines are a quite dramatic lot, did you know that?" Stainer teased.

"Oh like your party of Black 5's is much better," she sneered back and Stainer just laughed at that.

~~~

Henry looked over and saw the Fat Controller coming up to the platform beside him. He ignored Thomas, Edward and Percy who were sitting around the platform, almost as if waiting for something. They were looking at him expectantly and seemed excited and chatting among themselves in hushed tones. Henry ignored them, annoyed.

“Hello sir, I hope everything is okay?” He asked the man anxiously. He’d been pulled from his work at the clay pit mines and James had taken over much to the Red Engine’s dismay.

The Red Engine had insisted that Green Arrow take the job as the clay would leave a layer of dust on his splendid red paint; however he’d the Fat Controller refused to take no for an answer.

Green Arrow was busy hauling coaches and couldn’t have been taken off his train mid journey anyway.

“Why yes Henry, everything is completely fine! In fact, I have a friend here to see you!” The man said with a jovial tone. “She arrived here yesterday, however you had to run to Barrow at the last minute so you couldn’t meet her.”

“I apologise,” Henry blushed deeply.

The Fat Controller waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine Henry, absolutely fine, she had a good time getting to know the other engines. Except for Gordon, but I’ll deal with him later,” he said with a frown.

“Gordon’s always like that with new engines,” Edward sighed. “I do wish that he would have learnt by now that not every new or visiting engine is his enemy.”

Thomas frowned.

“I don’t know,” he said with concern. “He looked genuinely upset at some of the things she was saying about him and his class. And he didn’t start anything with her. If anything it looked like he just wanted to be left alone.”

“Perhaps,” Edward mused. “But given Gordon’s record.”

Thomas didn’t look convinced. To be honest, he was worried about Gordon.

The big blue engine hadn’t been himself since his brother had gone into his rebuild. Sometimes he caught the express engine sitting with his brother at the steamworks as they worked to rebuild him, even without his consciousness inside his engine.

He really should talk to his old ally. He didn’t like how Gordon was slowly drifting away from everyone. Especially not Henry. Gordon and Henry were very close so it was noticeable when Gordon didn’t talk to him.

Henry was watching them carefully but his attention was grabbed by a loud unfamiliar whistle. It sounded grand and powerful and Henry looked away from his friends to the tracks in front of him.

Henry saw an engine approach from a distance. It was black with red stripes, much like James’ original livery. His eyes widened in delight at the sight of the engine who was smiling cherrily at him.

“Hello Henry dear!” The engine called to him and gave him a wide, warm smile. “So you’re the wonderful new addition that Magpie has been telling everyone about.”

“I um, yes, I suppose I am! Hello!” Henry said flustered and the engine laughed at him.

“My name is Biggin Hill, Henry,” she introduced herself. “But most people just call me Hillsy. I am 5110 and I work at Severn Valley.”

“I’ve heard of that Railway,” Henry said, unsure of what to say to his new sibling. “Is it nice?”

“Oh it’s simply wonderful, you really must come and visit one day!” Hillsy grinned. “We’d love to have you. You must be so starved for attention, with no other Stainer’s around for so long.”

Henry didn’t know what to make of that. Honestly, he never cared about the LMS or LNER pedigree that a lot of engines had. Even Gordon had had traces of it when he had been known to the railway. A proud son of the LNER he had called himself. A force that helped shape some of Sir Nigel Gresley’s most powerful and famous engines, quite literally.

“I never really cared for the whole arms race between Railways to be honest,” Henry admitted. “I never even saw myself as a true Stainer Black 5, I was rebuilt into one after being a failed Gresley prototype.”

“Nonsense,” Hillsy said dismissively. “You are one of us, through and through. You join our family with pride Henry.”

Henry blushed.

He’d never had a family before. Well not in the way that he had other siblings like Gordon and the Flying Scotsman. The North Western Railway was his family, first and foremost. But he’d never had other members of the same class as him. He always thought himself unique, an anomaly.

“5025 will be coming down to see you himself,” Hillsy informed him. “He is the oldest and strongest of us, once you have his approval then you are part of our unit.”

“Approval? I don’t need anyone’s approval to be happy with myself,” Henry said and Hillsy frowned at him. “I’m happy with who I am. I fought hard to be here and to prove my worth.”

“You do if you wish to be accepted by the rest of our class,” Hillsy explained and Henry looked down at his buffers nervously.

“Oh, oh I see,” Henry mumbled to himself.

Hillsy laughed at him.

“Don’t worry about anything Henry,” she said in a jovial tone. “Everyone’s already accepted you. It’s so rare to have an engine appear after all these years. Especially one as special as yourself.”

Henry blushed at that.

“I’m not that special, I’m just another big engine here,” he said, embarrassed at Hillsy’s words.

“Not to us you’re not,” she affirmed and Henry smiled.

“Thank-you Hillsy.”

“You’re welcome dear brother.”

~~~

The City of Truro stared at the Blue A4 before him. He frowned deeply and looked over it with a critical eye.

“You’re not fooling anyone you know, Mallard,” Truro said coldly. “How did you even get here? I thought that your boiler was out of service.”

The A4 gave a viscous smirk.

“It’s funny how easily humans are swayed, especially when a famous engine requests things from them,” the deep nasally voice of the A4 said. “They think of us as mere tools put into their service, you know, it’s impossible for them to think that an engine could use them the same way.”

“You mean like you did with Cain?” Truro accused and Mallard gave him a viscous smirk.

“The younger the mind, the easier it is to influence,” he simply stated. “Same goes for engines.”

“Green Arrow knows what you did, he’s aware of how you manipulated him,” Truro pointed out. “How you took advantage of his distress and then you tried to silence him.”

“He’s a small insignificant engine,” Mallard huffed with a roll of his eyes.

“He’s big enough for you to get scared enough to try to silence and scrap him.”

Mallard frowned at him. “I did not try to scrap Green Arrow.”

“Regardless of the truth, you failed,” Truro sneered. “And you were not invited here.”

Mallard smirked. “I decided to invite myself. It was clearly pointless to rely on Cain to get anything I wanted done in the end. It was rather rude of that so called Gresley to not invite the most powerful and famous member of her grandfather’s creations to this little Island’s Branch grand opening. I would be insulted if I didn’t know better.”

“If you think you’re getting your buffers on Scotsman then you have another thing coming,” Truro hissed angrily at the A4 who simply sat there gazing down at City of Truro.

“I’m not here for that outdated relic,” Mallard spat angrily. “And I’m not here for that idiotic nosy little V2 either. No, City of Truro, I have more ambitious goals to achieve in my sights.”

“What do you mean?” Truro demanded but Mallard just gave Truro a smile that made a cold chill run through his boiler.

“You’ll see Great Western, you’ll see,” Mallard smirked at him.

Truro just stared at Mallard confused and fear creeping into the back of his mind.

He didn’t know what Mallard wanted, but he knew that it couldn’t have been good whatever it was.

~~~

Green Arrow was agitated, anyone could see that.

Whatever it was that was agitating him, Gordon didn’t care for. Green Arrow was just annoying him now with the creaking of his wheels as he shifted on them.

“Stop that!” He snapped at his cousin who simply frowned in response.

“It’s not intentional, I don’t know that I’m doing it half the time,” Arrow argued, annoyed. “It’s just something that I do.”

“Well it’s annoying!”

“Well your pompous attitude is annoying!” Arrow snapped back. “Don’t you ever relax? It’s like being with Great Northern again and he was nothing but an asshole to me!”

Gordon seemed to fall silent at Arrow’s statement. He was silent for a long time as the two sat in the yards together on their break from pulling their respective trains. Usually the two never spoke to the other or they’d just make occasional snide remarks. After a few minutes of silence and glances at the smaller engine, Gordon finally spoke up again.

“You, you met Great Northern?” He asked hesitantly.

Green Arrow gave Gordon a suspicious sideways glance.

“Yeah, only a few times, wish I never had at all to be honest,” The V2 snorted. “Always said my class was a waste of space. At least Flying Scotsman gave us the courtesy of being polite. Hell he even befriended my sister. Northern was nothing but rude and nasty to us!”

Gordon said nothing for a while but he stared at the tracks ahead of him.

“Great Northern told me I should have been scrapped,” he said quietly. “He also bullied Flying Scotsman. My brother hated him.”

Green Arrow raised his eyebrow.

“What really? Of all engines? Flying Scotsman?”

Gordon glared at Green Arrow.

“My brother wasn’t always famous, Little Arrow,” He said curtly. “Once he was only 4472, an engine just like the rest of his class.”

The V2 beside him looked thoughtful and curious. Gordon could tell that the smaller engine had questions but was reframing from asking them.

“I see,” was all Arrow said simply.

Gordon raised his eyebrow and looked at Green Arrow. He was being surprisingly restrained for once. He wondered if any of the other V2’s were like this. He’d never met any other member of Arrow’s class, only Green Arrow himself and he was the first and last of his class.

He’d only really heard about them from his brother.

“Have you heard anything about your brother lately?” Green Arrow asked and Gordon immediately became defensive.

“It’s none of your business Little Arrow!” He snapped angrily at him and Arrow just looked at him annoyed.

“You can’t keep painting me as the villain Gordon,” He retorted. “Flying Scotsman and I have made peace with each other. What happened, happened and none of us can change the past. We’ve agreed to move past this.”

Gordon huffed angrily. “Well you’re just an annoying little engine like all the rest! No matter what my brother says or believes, the fact still stands that you went after him and you tried to have him scrapped!”

Green Arrow sighed and closed his eyes.

“Look,” he said with a tired tone to his voice. “I’m trying to better myself and take responsibility for my actions. I’ve done things I regret. Things I probably shouldn’t have a second chance for but I do. Your controller gave me a second chance Gordon, I’m going to honour that. You can be bitter about me all you want, but I’m tired of this. I just want to move on from what I did, okay?”

Green Arrow looked utterly fed up and annoyed with Gordon.

“You can do whatever you want Gordon, but I’m not going to let you hold my mistakes over my head like Great Northern did,” he said coldly. “I know you’re not Great Northern Gordon, but you’re well on the path to becoming like him.”

Gordon’s face paled and he stared at Arrow in utter shock.

“How dare you!” He shouted but Green Arrow ignored him.

“I’m done trying to be your friend Gordon,” he snapped. “I’ve run out of patience. Don’t think I don’t know of you talking about me to the other big engines. I have better things to do than to worry about the opinions of big fish in small ponds.”

Green Arrow hissed steam as his crew began to warm him up again. He ignored the furious look on Gordon’s face.

“You should be focused on helping your brother, not antagonising me,” he said curtly. “Of which I know the nature of his condition. I think he needs his brother more than anything right now.”

Green Arrow left with a loud wheesh and quickly disappeared to turn around on to his next train leaving Gordon to stare after him speechless.

Of all the things he didn’t want to be, Great Northern was one of them. Considering how badly Scotsman had been targeted and bullied by his older brother it was the very last thing he wanted.

Maybe his cousin was right. Maybe Arrow had a point there.

Gordon frowned and let off a little bit of steam. He saw Phillip starting to shunt his next train and stared ahead.

He really hoped he didn’t run into Henry or his sister on this journey. He really did not want to deal with that LMS and LNER rivalry that ‘Hillsy’ kept trying to push on him.

He really hoped that Henry didn’t lean it to the long dead rivalry either.

Gordon had enough annoying things to deal with right now.

Maybe he should check on his brother as Arrow suggested.

As his driver climbed back into his cab, he made up his mind.

He’d go to Ulfstead Castle and pay him a visit.

~~~

“I guess I should say congratulations, Flying Scotsman,” Sir Frederirk Banbury said as Flying Scotsman came into the sheds where Donovan, Sceptre and Pretty Polly sat in their berths waiting for him. To the side, Great Northern sat silently, eyeing the exchange carefully.

“Yes, yes!” Pretty Polly exclaimed joyfully. “Giving it to those LMS and those Great Western’s!”

“The LNER’s got them beat lads! Flying Scotsman’s got them all on the run!” Donovan laughed and Flying Scotsman blushed as he turned on the turntable.

He wasn’t used to positive attention from his siblings. He went to reverse into his berth, away from the others but Polly called out to him.

“Scotsman, please come sleep next to me and Spec tonight!” She urged. “We want to know everything about your 100 mile run!”

“Yes, what was it like?!” Spectre asked excitedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever gone past 90 miles per hour, 100 miles sounds like insanity!”

“Well I um,” Flying Scotsman mumbled embarrassed but he was cut off by Great Northern’s voice.

“No, 4472 has a designated berth to sleep in like the rest of you,” Great Northern interjected. “4472 will return to his own berth. That is Lemberg’s berth, Pretty Polly.”

“Oh you’re such a bore, North!” Polly snapped. “You’re always telling us to leave Scotsman alone! For once we want to celebrate him! I think he’s earned our respect, don’t you brothers?”

“It’s not proper!” Great Northern argued.

“Who cares! It’s for one night!” Donovan snapped, stepping in to defend Polly. “One would think you’re jealous of Scotsman for achieving his record!”

“I am not jealous,” Great Northern said coldly.

“No, it’s alright,” Flying Scotsman said with a scowl at Great Northern. “I think Sir Gresley wanted me to go to his workshop anyway. He wanted to make sure I hadn’t worn or damaged anything. I think I’ll go there instead.”

Pretty Polly huffed.

“That’s a shame, we wanted to celebrate your record with you, brother,” she said with a kind smile.

The Flying Scotsman felt his cheeks turn red with warmth from her kind words. He didn’t interact with his siblings that often, other than taunts or jeers from them but something in the air had changed.

There was a sense of respect that now hung in the air.

Well, from everyone present except Great Northern.

“I, I would like to celebrate with you too,” he assured Polly and the others. “But I fear old iron over there might take issue with us staying up all night.”

The other engines laughed and Great Northern scowled.

“Just because you’ve broken a record does not give you permission to talk to me with such indignity, 4472,” North said sternly but Scotsman held firm.

“To be honest Great Northern,” he said, a new found confidence he never realised he had rising in him. “I’m tired of you. I think a lot of the other engines are tired of you. If you want to even consider criticising me, I’m afraid you’re going to have to beat my record. You don’t get to boss me around anymore, not after I proved myself to the entire world.”

Great Northern stared at Flying Scotsman with a disapproving frown.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, 4472,” he warned but Flying Scotsman just glared at him furiously.

“My name is FLYING SCOTSMAN!” He shouted angrily at North. “I run the most important line on the LNER and you will stop talking down to me like I just came out of the works! I’m tired of you 4470!”

Banbury smirked. “I like this feisty 4472, he’s much better than that wimpy boy who’s been moping around the last decade.”

The Flying Scotsman threw a glare at Banbury, annoyed. Banbury ignored him though.

“I’m going to Gresley’s workshop,” he announced. “At the very least, Great Northern won’t be able to make snide remarks at me in front of him.”

Flying Scotsman steamed off of the turntable in a huff, leaving for Gresley’s workshop without another word.

“No wait Flying Scotsman! Come back please!” He heard Polly call out to him desperately. “Why do you have to be so nasty to him North!”

“He is the LNER’s show pony. He must be held at a higher standard,” he heard North say. “He needs to be kept accountable lest he slip.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to constantly belittle him! He did something amazing! Let him celebrate for once!” Polly snapped back.

Scotsman didn’t hear the rest of the argument as he chuffed away, his thoughts a mix of anger and sadness.

It was odd, watching his memories like this, he realised as he suddenly found himself becoming aware of the fact he was reliving his past.

He was watching himself in the third person. It was so unnerving, so bizarre. But at least this time he was aware of it.

He stood on his own running board, in that awful little human body that the Gold Dust had cursed him into. The wind was rushing past him but he felt nothing.

He looked back at the engine sheds as he sped away from them with a heavy heart.

Why couldn’t Great Northern ever be proud of him, just once? His siblings had looked proud of him, even if it was because his record meant that they had won against their rival railways. Why hadn’t he been allowed to celebrate at least once with his siblings without Great Northern leering over them with a judgemental attitude?

He frowned and stared down. He looked down and saw his human body, but almost appearing as a ghost made of gold dust.

Shocked, he raised his hands to his face, staring at them.

He looked like a ghost.

A ghost standing on his own engine.

He looked back up at his engine frightened.

Green Arrow had consistently told the same story of when he had found him in Ulfstead mines.

That his engine appeared dead and soulless, that he had no steam, nor he had no crew.

And that a golden ghost of someone stood on his running board, just as he was now.

He stumbled back, gripping the railing on his boiler in fright.

Maybe that hadn't been Pegler's ghost… maybe it had been him or something like him.

He didn't even notice that his past engine self had stopped and backed into Gresley's works.

He heard his past self speaking but he ignored it. He could hear the cheers and whistles of the workmen, the crews and the designers as they congratulated him and his crews with a raucous applause.

What did the Gold Dust want? What was it trying to tell him?

A flash of movement caught his eye and he saw what looked like the darkened outline of a strange engine at the back of the workshop.

It wasn't a Gresley design, it was small, smaller than Thomas or Percy, it was strange and had a reddish livery with a glimmer of gold to it.

"What?" He muttered trying to see it but it seemed to disappear as he blinked.

"What was that?"

"Flying Scotsman," he heard Gresley's voice sternly call out to him, sounding right beside his head.

He yelled in surprise and stumbled, almost falling off his engine's run board but a sturdy hand grabbed and stopped him from slipping.

No one was supposed to see him. These were his memories, dreams he was having. It was impossible to interact with what was already down to history.

He suddenly noticed that everything around him in the memory had frozen, everything was eerily still and a strange feeling permeated the air.

Like another person had intruded on his own consciousness, his memories

He turned and almost jumped back in shock when was greeted by the figure of a man he knew very well.

"Mr Sir Gresely sir!" He stammered over his words, almost falling back and off his running board again but his designer had a firm grasp on his arm and stopped him.

"Easy my boy," Gresley assured him. "Let's not damage this handsome human form you have."

The Flying Scotsman just stared at him speechless.

"Is this, is this a dream? Am I hallucinating?" He finally asked.

Sir Gresley didn't smile but he looked around at Scotsman's memory.

"Perhaps," he said distantly. "But it's a chance for us to speak. Regardless of whether it's real or not, I think such a meeting would do you well."

The Scotsman stared at Sir Gresley before giving a hesitant nod.

"Yes sir," he said. "I apologise for not appearing in my engine."

"Think nothing of it," Sir Gresley said dismissively. "Your body was made from your own perception of yourself. I'm glad to see that you've grown in confidence my dear boy. You look strong and grand."

The Scotsman lowered his gaze and looked away from Sir Gresley.

"I don't want to be stuck in the form sir," he said quietly. "I want to be back in my engine but, if I go back, the Cold Sleep will take me. I don't want to die sir, I came so far. And I achieved so much. I don't want to die "

"There is a way to defeat it, but if I tell you, you'll never find it."

The Scotsman looked back at his designer sadly.

"I wish I could be the engine you always wanted me to be, sir," he said quietly. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder as Sir Gresley gripped him and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"You were and still are Flying Scotsman," Sir Gresley said, for once his face morphing into a proud expression. "You exceeded every expectation I had of you. I'm proud of you."

The Flying Scotsman felt tears well in his eyes.

"Thank-you sir," he said, holding back his tears.

"You'll get there Flying Scotsman, I have every faith that you will."

"I'll do my best sir."

Sir Gresley frowned and seemed to ponder something.

"Could I ask you to pass a message on for me?"

"Yes sir, I can do that," Scotsman affirmed, simply happy to interact with his designer after all these years even if it was a hallucination or a ghost.

"When you find Great Northern, tell him I'm sorry I failed him," Sir Gresley said and Scotsman's eyes widened.

"You mean, if he approaches me like you are now sir? As a ghost?"

"I do not," Sir Gresley said curtly. "For one to be a ghost, one has to be dead."

The Flying Scotsman's face went white as a sheet.

"Great- Great Northern's still alive? He wasn't scrapped?!" Scotsman suddenly shouted. "What- what are you talking about sir? Sir!"

Sir Gresley had suddenly disappeared and the sounds of celebration suddenly came back as his memory suddenly started to play again.

He heard Sir Gresley from the past proclaiming his 100 mph record but Scotsman didn't care at all. He just stared around in a panic.

"He's alive?" He said to himself in complete and utter disbelief. "What-"

He suddenly slipped off the running board and fell, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

~~~

Chapter Text

6 - Hostage

Flying Scotsman awoke almost instantly the second he felt himself hit the ground in his memory.

His whole gave a violent jolt and he opened his eyes, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. He tore his eyes away as he coughed, trying to regain his composure.

Great Northern hadn't been scrapped? He was still alive?

Of all their siblings, it had to be the one who loathed Gordon and himself.

He'd always hoped that another A3 had been stored away and saved or slipped through the cracks. But just not him, the engine who had done nothing but belittle and criticise him and make rude comments about Gordon.

Great Northern wasn't even an A3 anymore. He was that hideous hybrid of a Thompson that none of their siblings even considered one of their own anymore.

Scotsman flinched as he felt someone touch him and he became aware of his surroundings.

"It's okay, you're safe," a kind voice said. He recognised it as Olivia Spence.

He calmed. He hadn't seen or spoken to her in this new form, the last time he'd seen her was when they had placed his engine in the well of Gold Dust and he vaguely remembered her comforting him before he passed out.

Sir Robert had said she'd gone into labour with her son directly after making contact with the Gold Dust which had been very worrying. Thankfully she'd had her baby without complications and both mother and son were healthy and strong. They still didn't know how Gold Dust affected humans however although Olivia seemed to be fine.

He hadn't realised how much he missed Ms Olivia in the past month. As much as he liked Stainer, there was something about having a member of his designer's family as one of his directors that he found comfort in.

He looked over and saw Olivia sitting beside his bed, gently rubbing his arm and gazing at him concerned.

"Ms Olivia," he smiled at her, elated to see a familiar and comforting face. "I missed you."

Olivia gave a soft chuckle.

"I missed you too, Scotsman," she said kindly. She looked tired but well. "You're safe here, you gave us a bit of a scare."

"Godred… he, I don't know what happened-," Scotsman mumbled. He suddenly winced as a bolt of pain lanced through his stomach and Olivia immediately stood and came to his side as he curled in on himself in reaction.

"Easy," she said soothingly. "You're still recovering from a relapse of Cold Iron."

Scotsman lay still for a long while, trembling as the pain took a hold of him. Olivia patiently hovered over him, attending to him carefully. After what felt like an age, the pain seemed to settle and he relaxed.

"Where am I?" He asked. He wasn't in his room at the castle, the room he was currently in was smaller and felt cosy and warm, unlike the huge master bedroom that felt constantly cold and unfeeling.

He noticed the hesitation in Olivia's voice as she spoke.

"You're at my house," she said. "You're in my spare room Oscar and I set up for you. We had to separate you and Godred."

There was more she hadn't told him but he didn't push. He wondered if he should tell her about Sir Gresley and Great Northern.

Maybe it had been a fever dream instead, brought on by his relapse but he somehow didn't believe that.

"I like this better," he murmured sleepily. "This feels nicer. Kinder somehow. The castle always felt cold, friendless."

Olivia chuckled. "Well then, I'm glad. I just hope that baby Scott doesn't wake you up in the middle of the night."

"Little Scotsman," the Scotsman said with a warm feeling growing in his chest. "Can I meet him?"

Olivia gave a tired soft chuckle. "I just spent an hour trying to get him to sleep before coming to check on you, so another time."

Scotsman's face saddened a little but he understood. Humans were such delicate things, especially when they were small. He nodded at her understanding.

"Something else is troubling you," Olivia remarked as she watched over him. "Would you like to share?"

He did, but he wasn't sure. She might think him crazy or insane. He looked away from Olivia.

"Godred was nasty about how Tornado doesn't accept me," he admitted.

"We know, we saw on the security cameras," Olivia assured him. "He has been severely reprimanded for his actions. Tornado and I spoke a few days ago. She said she didn't mean to upset you, she's just struggling to deal with what's happening. She does want to accept you but, I don't think she can right now."

"I know," Scotsman said with a tired tone in his voice. "I'm struggling to make sense of this myself. I've spent a century as an engine, to become human is… overwhelming."

The Scotsman looked exhausted and ill. The past month he had struggled, it had been so hard, and all of his senses were still overwhelming to some degree.

"Ms Olivia… you…" Scotsman started but then stopped. He wasn't sure if he could talk about her grandfather. But being head of the NRM, she would have access to information most wouldn't.

"Yes, Scotsman? Go on."

Flying Scotsman sighed and then gazed at the woman watching over him patiently.

"What do you know about Great Northern?"

~~~

"Gordon?" Henry came up beside his old friend as the big blue engine sat in a siding. "Are you alright? You've been avoiding everyone."

"I'm fine," the big engine grumbled.

"Look I know you're upset about your brother but-"

"That's not!" Gordon suddenly blurted out then sighed and quietened down. "Did you have a fun time with your sister?" He asked.

"I guess, she's a bit pushy but otherwise Hillsy's nice," Henry said with a smile. "I like her a lot."

He looked genuinely happy at having a sister.

Gordon smiled. He had issues with his sister but he didn't want to bring them up to Henry. He didn't want to upset his friend.

"I'm happy for you," Gordon said with a smile.

"Thanks, Gordon," Henry grinned back at him. "But I'm worried about you, maybe you could hang out with us, you know big engines together-"

"No!" Gordon said abruptly. "I'd rather not- I don't want to intrude on you and your family."

"Oh, well that's very considerate of you Gordon," Henry said. "But you're my friend and something's upset you. Was it Green Arrow again?"

Gordon sighed. When Henry was worried, he became a bit of an annoyance. He knew Henry meant well but, he didn't want to upset his friend.

He would think he was just being nasty or rude if he told him about Biggin Hill's insults towards him.

"No Henry, it wasn't Green Arrow. Can you please just drop it?" Gordon said grumpily and Henry looked hurt.

"I'm sorry Gordon, I was just… worried about you," he said. "I thought we were close friends and could share anything?"

"We are Henry just, there are things I just can't-" Gordon said bitterly. "Now can you please stop, I'm uncomfortable."

"Alright, I'm sorry Gordon," Henry admitted quietly. He looked hurt but chose to respect his friend. "I hope whatever it is gets better."

Gordon didn't say anything. He just gave Henry a sad look and a weak smile before he pulled out of the siding and puffed away without so much as an acknowledgement.

Henry stared after him, greatly concerned. He went on his way, pulling his goods trucks until he saw Thomas sitting at a water tank, refilling his boiler.

"Hey Henry," Thomas smiled at him but then saw the worried look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I'm worried about Gordon," Henry said. "He's not telling me what's bothering him. I think he's avoiding me."

"Well, he's not allowed to talk about his brother," Thomas said Henry sighed.

"I know, but I don't think that's what was worrying him," the big green engine said. "He's going out of his way to avoid me but especially when my sister is around."

"Maybe she upset him somehow?" Thomas suggested.

"Upset him?"

"He's been avoiding your sister at every chance he can get," Thomas said. "I thought it was because he wanted to give you and your family space but when I asked Green Arrow he said that it was because Biggin Hill hates LNER engines."

"Green Arrow is a known liar," Henry huffed.

"That might be true but I saw Hillsy straight-up insult Tornado when she saw her," Thomas admitted. "That and she's been passive-aggressive towards Gordon when you're not around. She insinuates that Gordon is useless and part of a dead class. I tried to stop her but she doesn't listen to little engines."

"But then why…" Henry looked at his buffers. "Why wouldn't Gordon tell me?"

"Considering Gordon's track record of being rude to new engines, he probably didn't want to start a fight," Thomas said. "Or more likely he didn't want you to be upset at your sister when you'd just met."

Henry looked up at Thomas. He seemed thoughtful.

"Green Arrow knows most of the mainland engines doesn't he?"

Thomas looked at him curiously.

"Yes he does, why?"

"How reliable do you think a testimony of someone from him would be?"

Thomas looked thoughtful.

"In the past maybe not but he seems to be trying to change himself," Thomas truthfully. "I want to believe he would tell the truth but I'm not sure "

Henry gave a soft hum.

"I'll see for myself then."

~~~

Green Arrow jolted awake as Duck's loud whistle suddenly erupted right next to his smokebox. He gave an undignified shriek and mumbled a large amount of swearing before glaring at Duck who just sat there laughing at him.

"What was that for!?" Arrow snapped, still startled.

"Payback for the other day, at Brendam Docks," Duck laughed. "It's not very like you to be asleep on the job LNER boy."

Green Arrow just huffed at him annoyed.

"I didn't get any sleep last night," he huffed angrily, clearly agitated and grumpy. "That little diesel wouldn't shut up all night!"

"Little diesel?" Duck was puzzled. "You mean Phillip?"

"Yes, the little boxcab," Arrow huffed. "He wouldn't keep quiet and even when he slept he snored!"

Duck was confused.

"Why are you sleeping at Wellsworth? I thought you slept at Ulfstead Castle."

"I did but then," Green Arrow paused. "I saw something I shouldn't have. So I guess they moved me elsewhere."

He remembered seeing the Flying Scotsman's human form, the gold dust and his relapse of some illness. Possibly the cold iron sleep. He didn't know but there had to be some reason that they had kicked him out of the private berths at Ulfstead Castle. There was something more to this, something more going on, he knew it.

"Oh, I see," Duck said. "That's a shame. Is City of Truro still up there?"

"I think so," Arrow said. Duck didn't miss the worried look on his face.

"What's wrong?" He asked the big green engine.

"I don't know," Arrow said with a sigh. "I just, have a bad feeling about something "

"Maybe it's the lack of sleep?"

"Perhaps," Arrow mused but the look of concern did not go away. "But I just, I don't know, something doesn't feel right. This all seems, wrong, something is going on. I don't know what but…"

Arrow stopped and frowned before looking at Duck.

"Ignore me, it's probably nothing," he said looking away from the little Pannier.

"Is City of Truro alright though? Has something happened to him?" Duck sounded panicked and worried.

Green Arrow couldn't answer that.

"We should investigate," Duck urged and Green Arrow raised an eyebrow at him.

"And abandon our work? That's not very Great Western of you," Arrow sneered and Duck glared at him.

"Rich coming from you, Mr ‘I poke my nose everywhere it doesn't go’," Duck retorted.

"I am a curious engine," Arrow puffed up proudly. "I've become an intelligent one because of my curiosity."

Green Arrow quickly dropped his pride and looked at Duck seriously.

"But are you serious though? You want to help me find out what's going on at Ulfstead Castle?" Arrow asked excitedly.

He'd never had another engine who shared the same interests in his curiosities before. Usually it was humans who humoured him or were happy to show him stuff.

"If only to make sure that Truro is okay, then yes, I will help you," Duck smiled.

Truth be told, he admired the green V2 engine. He was smart and clever and had the attitude of a Great Western went it came to work. He didn't mind at all to be working with the clever engine even if the Scottish Twins wouldn't approve.

"I'll accept whatever you're willing to do Duck," Green Arrow grinned his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

The both of them looked over and saw Henry approaching them. The big green engine looked pensive but when he saw the two engines looking at him, he gained a confident air about him and steamed towards Green Arrow.

“Hello Henry,” Duck greeted him. “Don’t usually see you around these parts.”

“No, I came to see Green Arrow actually,” Henry said not taking his eyes off of the LNER mixed traffic engine.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Henry?” Green Arrow said with a half-amused smile. “You usually don’t even care to greet me.”

Henry looked away from the engine guiltily.

“Ah yes well, old habits die hard,” He said awkwardly.

“No hard feelings Henry, it was just an observation,” Arrow said with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

Henry was surprised at just how friendly Arrow was despite everything that had happened to him when he had been mute. He seemed to take everything in his stride and was keen to move on. He supposed that he could respect that. He felt the same way after his accident with the Flying Kipper, desperate to move on after such a traumatising event.

“Did you know any of the Stainer Black 5’s when you were on the mainland?” Henry asked and Arrow raised an eyebrow at him.

“A few, I wasn’t friends with any of them but they’re all relatively respectful,” Arrow answered but then he scowled. “Aside from a few.”

“A few?” Henry asked. “What do you mean?”

“The engine visiting Sodor, Biggin Hill? She was known to be particularly nasty towards engines on other railways, especially the LNER. Same with Sovereign,” Arrow explained. “Is this about Gordon?” Arrow mused and Henry’s eyes widened.

“I’m not sure, Thomas said he saw Hill be passive-aggressive towards Gordon, Gordon’s been refusing to talk to me and avoiding me,” Henry said sadly. “Whenever I confront him he just shuts down.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to start a fight between the three of you, so he’s avoiding the conflict until Hill goes back to the mainland,” Duck suggested.

“That doesn’t sound like Gordon, he usually confronts someone if he feels challenged about his LNER heritage,” Henry said but then Duck smiled at Henry.

“I think that’s a testament to how much he values your friendship,” Duck simply said. “His relationship with you is more important than his heritage which he holds so dearly.”

Henry blushed and looked at Duck. “I guess, I guess it does.”

He then looked at his buffers sadly.

“I don’t want to confront my sister, I just met her but I know I should, Gordon’s one of my oldest friends,” He said quietly.

“If I may, the Black 5, 5025, is also coming to Sodor in the next couple of days yes?” Green Arrow put in. Henry looked up at him curiously.

“Yes, why?”

“Well, 5025 is a sort of Patriarchal figure to the other Black 5’s, if you tell him then he’ll deal with Hillsy,” Arrow explained. “He’s had to deal with her being nasty to other engines before, her behaviour is not new.”

Henry looked thoughtful for a moment before looking back at Arrow.

“But I only have other people’s words for what she’s doing to Gordon, what if they’re wrong and Hillsy was only trying to strike up a conversation?” He said concerned.

“Well then, I guess you’d have to catch her in the act to be sure, but aside from that, that’s all the advice I can give you Henry,” Arrow said.

Henry looked at the V2 after a moment of deep thought and smiled at him.

“Thank-you for your help, I was worried you were going to not even bother to help me,” he said with gratitude in his voice.

Green Arrow just smiled.

“Honestly, I’m just trying to do better,” he said and Henry gave him a warm smile.

“I understand that feeling all too well,” the Big Green Engine said.

~~~

Gordon slowly made his way to Ulfstead Castle after his last train that night. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do so to check on his brother after a long week.

To his surprise, he found the gates to the castle locked and the draw bridge to the castle up.

“What’s going on? Why is the Castle closed?” He demanded angrily. His driver carefully parked him in the station outside the Earl’s estate and he and his fireman went in to investigate.

He wanted to see his brother. He didn’t want to deal with any more irritating things today. Henry’s sister had been particularly nasty to him as he sat on a siding during his break, calling him a galloping sausage and no better than that stupid Hush Hush experiment.

He had been so angry that he’d bumped his coaches to which the Fat Controller had scolded him and threatened to take the express away.

He could use a friend right now.

He waited, the cold night was brisk but there were no clouds in the sky. He sat, content to watch the moon as he waited.

Things had been going so well, his brother had finally gotten the rebuild he so desperately needed. The Island was the busiest it had been in a long time, he’d found a friend in Rebecca and the new Diesel Bear was a sweet and kind engine who looked up to Steam Engines and admired them greatly.

Bear had almost burst a gasket when he’d been told he would be banking Gordon up his hill once. It had been sweet, something that was usually embarrassing for Gordon had turned into a huge ego boost as the diesel had sung his praises.

Gordon sighed to himself and stared down at his buffers sadly.

Now everything was going wrong, everything was strange and unfamiliar.

His brother was now stuck in a body he hated and that hurt him, Henry’s sister didn’t give him a minute of peace and now it always felt like he was constantly in trouble with his superiors. He didn’t even see Tornado or Henry as much anymore because the Island had gotten so busy and the towns and cities were growing.

Maybe he could speak to Truro, he realised.

Truro was his brother’s closest confident an of what he knew they were extremely close, partners. They trusted each other and Scotsman had admitted to telling Truro, Gordon’s secrets. However, considering Truro’s loyal nature there was no risk of his secrets being ever divulged.

If his brother could trust Truro then it meant that he could as well.

Gordon stirred from his thoughts as he heard footsteps crunching on gravel as his crew returned. He looked over and saw Jesse, his fireman and his driver Mitch coming back with a person he recognised as Scotsman’s driver, Vincent.

“What’s going on?”

“We have a situation,” Vincent said looking very tense and pale. “But Scotsman is safe, he’s in a place I can’t disclose due to security issues. But I can confirm that he’s 100% safe.”

Gordon was relieved but it wasn’t much considering everything else.

“I just want answers,” he snapped angrily. “I’m fed up, I’ve been insulted by that Hill engine all day, my controller threatened to take my express and now I can’t see my brother! I’m tired of this charade!”

Vincent looked up at him sympathetically.

“I know, I know Gordon,” he said sounding just as frustrated. “I’m just as pissed off as you. But there’s a dangerous engine that arrived last night. One that puts a lot of people at risk.”

“Then send him back to where he came from!” Gordon snapped angrily. “You humans manage us engines correct?”

“Not this one,” Vincent said with a frightened look on his face. “This engine is the one who pulled the strings behind Cain and got it into his head to have him scrap Flying Scotsman and stole Green Arrow’s voicebox from him. We don’t know who’s working for him, so we don’t know how far his influence reaches.”

Gordon’s eyes widened in fear.

“You mean-”

“Mallard is here and if he is then it means he’s managed to worm his way into the board of the museum again. Even Stainer or Olivia wouldn’t be able to send him back,” Vincent said coldly. “The railways on Sodor have been put on high alert and your brother and his engine have been put on tight lockdown. Green Arrow’s also been put on a tighter lease to keep him away.”

Gordon just stared at Vincent petrified.

“What about City of Truro?” He asked hesitantly. “Isn’t he still up at the castle?”

“He’s been ordered to stay at the castle as part of the NRM’s Sodor Branch opening by the board,” Vincent said his teeth gritted. “Mallard’s effectively holding him hostage.”

Gordon just stared horrified at the man before looking up at the castle his wheels trembling. If his brother knew that Truro was in trouble… Mallard could hold it over his head, he could manipulate him any way he wished. Scotsman was devoted to Truro if he knew… Mallard could just threaten Truro to get anything he wanted from his famous cousin.

Things had just become unbelievably worse.

Fear consumed Gordon’s boiler and he felt more helpless than he ever had in his life.

~~~

The Flying Scotsman grew agitated as there was no sign of his coaches. He could see that the passengers and his guard were getting annoyed.

"Come on!" He snapped loudly. "I've been lenient with late station pilots, but this is ridiculous! 40 mins are unacceptable!"

"I apologise Flying Scotsman," the Stationmaster said with a slight bow to the famous engine. "Our Station Pilot has been having problems recently."

"Well maybe you should invest in a new one," the Flying Scotsman said and the Stationmaster sighed.

"We've been asking for a new one for ages, however, the railway only saw fit to give us a ghastly prototype rebuild," he answered. "It's been problematic since day one."

The Flying Scotsman huffed. "Regardless, my passengers will not be so forgiving."

There was a sudden blast of a whistle as finally the Flying Scotsman's extra coaches were coupled onto his train.

"You are aware that my train has a reputation to uphold, pilot?" Flying Scotsman scolded the engine. "You are doing your station a disservice! I doubt your controller will be pleased "

The engine did not respond to Scotsman's scolding, infuriating the engine.

"You have held my passengers up for almost an hour!" The Scotsman spat out angrily. "You could at least have the courtesy to respond when spoken to!"

The Stationmaster seemed to agree and crossed his arms.

"Great Northern! The Flying Scotsman has addressed you!" He snarled at the engine. "Apologise for holding up his train and the mainline!"

Outwardly the Scotsman showed no reaction but he was completely shocked at the identity of the station pilot.

His older brother, once the leader of the LNER's bigger engines, was now nothing more than a station pilot?

"I humbly apologise, 4472," came the deep voice of Great Northern. "I am still having teething troubles from my rebuild."

He sounded old, worn and weary. Nothing like the commanding older brother who pushed and pushed him until his wheels felt like falling off. The older brother demeaned him or insulted him every time he cried or was kind to the other smaller engines.

The years of hurt had not gone away and Scotsman felt a terrible streak of revenge glimmer in his smoke box.

"I don't want your excuses," Flying Scotsman snapped angrily. "I just want your apology, station pilot."

It felt good to twist the knife in, the Scotsman thought with a vicious grin. He wouldn't even dignify with addressing Great Northern by name.

“I want to apologise, 4472, for letting you down,” Great Northern said quietly. His voice was full of regret and a sense of deep sadness that Flying Scotsman was too angry to acknowledge.

“My number is 60103 and you will refer to me as Flying Scotsman, station pilot,” he snapped coldly.

If Great Northern responded, Scotsman did not hear it as the guard blew his whistle and his driver released his excess steam with an enormous wheesh and a loud blaring of his whistle.

Flying Scotsman moved off with powerful strokes of his value gear, leaving the older A1 to stare after him with a look of longing and regret.

On the platform, his future human self stood silently watching.

He remembered feeling vindictive and nasty. It had felt good, after all those years of North constantly pushing him and disrespecting his feelings on matters.

They all faded when he saw Great Northern simply sitting on the line, staring after him and his train as the Stationmaster yelled at him angrily.

His older brother looked distraught and he didn't know if it was because of the stationmaster yelling at him or if he was genuinely sorry for him.

He approached the platform edge, ignoring the memory of the Stationmaster who was still yelling.

He looked at his older brother, seeing him and his rebuild into a Thompson Design.

To say it was rough was putting it lightly.

Great Northern had had his smooth lines ruined, his beautiful Gresley design tarnished and warped by the design of another.

It was why the other Gresleys had rejected him.

It was why he had rejected him.

But it hadn't been Great Northern's fault, he knew that.

But still.

"Out of all my siblings, it had to be you," he snarled.

Scotsman waited for his memory to freeze, for something to happen as it did with Sir Gresley. He went over and even touched the surface of Great Northern, just hoping that his ghost would appear.

Nothing.

Scotsman frowned and glared at the engine.

Where ever he was, Great Northern had a lot to answer for in his eyes.

~~~

Chapter Text

"You didn't come back to Tidmouth sheds last night," a small voice called out to him.

Gordon simply closed his eyes as he sat in the yard and gave a long and sad-sounding hiss of steam.

"Go away Thomas," Gordon said with no energy in his voice. He sounded like he hadn't slept and there was not even a hint of his usual grumpiness.

Thomas rolled up next to him and looked up at his old friend with great concern.

"But don't you remember Gordon, United we stand, divided we fall. You help me, I'll help you," Thomas reminded the big engine. "I didn't forget our alliance."

Gordon sighed and opened his eyes to gaze at the little engine. Thomas looked concerned and hurt, giving him big pitiful eyes.

Normally Gordon would have snorted and snapped at him but he just didn't have the energy.

"I appreciate your concern Thomas but there are some things that not even a clever little thing like you can fix," he said quietly.

Gordon was complimenting him. Now Thomas was getting worried.

"Okay you're being nice to me, now I know something is wrong," Thomas said. "Is it Henry's sister?"

"What I-" Gordon looked confused for a minute. “You know about that?”

“It’s not hard to miss how passive-aggressive she’s being,” Thomas pointed out. “Henry told her off last night.”

Gordon smiled slightly. He could always count on Henry to have his back. He looked back at Thomas who gazed up at him expectantly.

“It’s not Henry’s sister, it’s other stuff,” Gordon admitted, looking at the ground uncomfortably.

“Well, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is,” Thomas said and Gordon sighed.

“I appreciate your concern Thomas, but not here in the yard,” he said quietly. He looked around and saw Phillip milling about and James sitting at the water tower humming to himself. “It’s- It’s a sensitive issue.”

“Ah of course,” Thomas realised and proceeded to watch Phillip bump the trucks around carelessly. The trucks screeched and snapped at him in anger at his carelessness.

“You’re worse than Edward!” One of them shrieked.

Thomas chuckled to himself. Edward did like to take his anger out on the trucks sometimes. He could be quite brutal with them when he was truly pissed off. He'd even been known to damage a few if he was venting.

He looked back at Gordon who was waiting patiently.

“We should talk,” Thomas said and Gordon hummed in agreement.

“How about tonight at Henry’s forest?”

“Very well,” Gordon said and Thomas beamed.

“Thank you, Gordon, I’m glad that you feel you can trust me,” He said and Gordon smiled at him.

“That’s what allies are for Thomas.”

~~~

Green Arrow slowed as he saw the Stationmaster at Wellsworth flag him down, his red flag frantic.

“Hello, sir, what seems to be the problem?” He asked.

“I need a banker engine to push an engine up Gordon’s Hill and Edward isn’t here today,” he said and Arrow rolled his eyes.

“Is it Gordon again the bloody fool?” Arrow said with an annoyed tone.

“It’s not Gordon for once, it’s Tornado,” the man said to him and Arrow looked surprised.

“Oh, I see, I’ll happily lend her a buffer sir,” he smiled and the stationmaster nodded and he was uncoupled from his goods train.

He found Tornado sitting in the middle track looking very sorry for herself.

“Need a push Ms Tornado?” He greeted her and Tornado instantly perked up at his appearance.

“Oh! I wasn’t expecting you, I’m sorry, Edward is usually my banker,” she mumbled very flusteredly. Green Arrow simply chuckled.

“It’s okay, Edward is busy elsewhere on the Island today, the Wellsworth Station Master asked me to assist you if that’s alright?” He asked and Tornado blushed.

“I um, yes! I’d like that thank-you Arrow!”

Arrow smiled as he positioned switched tracks and positioned himself behind her.

“Ready?” He asked and Tornado seemed to perk up.

“Ready!” She called brightly. Arrow could hear the smile in her voice and smiled himself. A happy Tornado always brightened his day.

With a powerful shunt, Green Arrow began to push Tornado and her heavy coaches up the huge incline with surprising ease. He was a lot stronger than Edward, Tornado noticed almost immediately. Then again, Arrow was a smaller version of Gordon or Scotsman and he was a lot bigger than James, so it made sense.

It didn’t escape the both of them that the last time they’d been in a similar position, Tornado had almost fallen down a collapsed mine and been lost. Green Arrow’s boiler had almost exploded from the shear strain it had taken to save the Peppercorn, but thankfully it hadn’t and one of his seams had ruptured only causing a burst.

The rebuild he had received from Sodor had made him feel as though he’d just awoken to the world and Sir Gresley was standing before him with a group of proud and cheering men. His designer had been so pleased, so impressed with him.

“We haven’t talked to each other since you got your boiler fixed,” Tornado said, trying to start up a conversation.

“No we haven’t,” Arrow acknowledged. “I do miss you Tornado, I hope we can speak more often in the future. If Ms Olivia says it’s okay that is.”

“Ms Olivia and I spoke,” Tornado said. “She’s lifted her ban on me seeing you. You can talk to me if you want.”

“Ah grand, grand!” Arrow remarked joyfully. “You shouldn’t feel bad about what happened Tornado, I’ve moved past it and I know that you’re sorry. So please, feel free to approach me if you wish.”

“I said I wanted to work on becoming your friend again and I will,” Tornado said. “I’m sorry if I’m a little distant these days, there’s a lot on my mind.”

“That’s okay, I know that you’re dealing with a lot of stuff, especially Flying Scotsman’s, erm, special condition shall we say.”

Tornado raised her eyebrows in surprise. Arrow knew about Scotsman being turned into a human due to the Gold Dust?

“Since when did you know-”

“I saw him myself, it was an accident, he came into the sheds by accident a few nights ago,” Green Arrow said hastily. She knew how nosy and intrusive he could be at times. “I wasn’t trying to pry or be nosy, I saw him but Sir Robert swore me to secrecy. I haven’t said a word to anyone except Gordon who already knew.”

“Oh okay.”

Green Arrow strained as he felt Tornado and her coaches get heavier as they moved up the incline but persisted. For a while, the two engines didn’t talk as their wheels occasionally spun as they struggled up Gordon’s Hill.
As they reached the crest of the incline, Green Arrow called to Tornado.

“You know, Truro’s a stuffy old man and Gordon can be a difficult engine, if you ever need someone to talk to, you can talk to me if you’re comfortable enough,” Arrow offered and Tornado smiled.

“Thanks, Arrow, I appreciate that,” she said as she began to slide away from him and down the other side of the hill with him in pursuit. “Maybe when we both have time?”

“Of course, I look forward to it!”

Tornado gave him a bright cheery whistle, something that Arrow hadn’t heard in a very long time. He smiled brightly and felt a warm feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Things were looking up and Tornado seemed to be warming back up to him.

He watched her power away into the distance as he slowly followed her down the hill.

After years of his mind being up a dark cloud, he felt calm. He could feel another one coming, over the horizon but at this moment, he felt content and peaceful.

As Gabriel gradually rolled him to a halt he took in the crisp spring air. Spring was coming over the Island, and colours were beginning to shine through what was left of the snow.

Although the past year had been hell with his voice stolen from him, it had made him slow down and appreciate new things. Gabriel had helped him come to terms with that. Although losing his voice for a time had been extremely stressful, there were still things that he could learn from it.

He liked Gabriel, he’d helped him work through certain traumas like losing his siblings, his friends and his struggles. He suspected that the Fat Controller had given him a driver who knew how to work with damaged engines. Gabriel had worked with Henry and a few others, especially after they had had accidents.

Either way, he was happy with his new crew and his new place in the world. They’d given him a new mindset, a new lease on life.

He felt like he could take on anything.

Even Mallard.

~~~

Flying Scotsman awoke to the sun shining down on his face and a small bird perched on his window, pecking at it loudly.

He groaned as he felt this soft body ache and his head pounded with grogginess that he assumed was a human thing. Why were humans so sensitive to every little thing? It was overwhelming at times.

He grits his teeth and pulled himself up. The clock on his bedside read 11 am and he suddenly felt wide awake.

Oh, how he did despite waking up late. It made him feel useless. As an engine, he was often up well before the sun rose as his crew readied him for the day.

He pulled himself up with a grunt, ignoring the pain in his stomach and his aching muscles. If he was going to take residence in his director's house, the least he could do was be up at a proper time.

He looked around from the green suit he often wore, given to him by Stainer but found no sign of it, only a room with some shelves and bundles of clothes and blankets that he'd never seen before.

The Scotsman grumbled to himself. He liked his suit. It made him feel special and important. Maybe it had been lost when he'd been taken to Ulfstead Castle's emergency medical wing. No matter, he could simply ask Olivia for a new one. Maybe even an LNER styled one as she had, he thought excitedly.

Ignoring his aches he pulled himself out of bed and drew a blanket around his shoulders to keep the cold off his back. He was in an unfamiliar house and from what he could tell he was on the second floor.

He explored the house before hearing the sound of Olivia's voice with that of a baby's. He quickly turned his heel and followed the noise, almost falling down the stairs but finding himself in a large spacious kitchen with a bar counter.

He found Olivia perched on a stool, cooing to a baby in a carrier sitting on the counter and his fireman Oscar standing opposite her with a coffee in his hand staring down at a newspaper. It took a while for either of them to notice him.

"Scotsman!" Oscar called out as he suddenly noticed him. "You're up and about!"

Scotsman nodded and blushed awkwardly. He hadn't interacted with Oscar as a human yet, he wasn't sure how to interact.

"Hello," he said in a quiet voice. He felt shy and naked in this form. Oscar was so much bigger than him now.

Olivia turned and smiled at him. She looked him up and down. He was in the thin hospital pyjamas that he had been brought in with.

"I can't believe they didn't give you more clothes than just that one suit and a hospital gown," she said as she beckoned him forward. "That's okay, we can deal with that later today. Are you hungry?"

The Flying Scotsman nodded absently, his eyes staring at the baby in the carrier curiously. Olivia was talking to him but he didn't hear her, his focus entirely on the baby.

He was small but pudgy and had brilliant blue eyes. Dark hair had started to grow on his head and he was babbling to himself happily. He had seen babies before, as passengers or when parents he knew showed them to him but he never was able to see them in this way up close and personal. It was so strange and oddly heartwarming.

"Scotsman!" Olivia's voice pulled him from his concentration and he turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry I was just," he looked back at the baby. "I've never seen a baby so close before."

Olivia wasn't angry as he expected she would be, instead, she gave him a warm smile and pulled him closer to the carrier.

"Flying Scotsman, this is our son, Scott," she introduced him. "He only came to be because you and Vincent got myself and Oscar together."

Olivia gazed at Oscar who blushed.

"I'd never have asked Olivia out if you weren't such a meddling pest," Oscar said teasingly to Scotsman. "You and Vincent teased me nonstop until I acted on my attraction to this woman."

Oscar pointed the rolled-up newspaper at her and Olivia grinned.

The Scotsman smirked. "You were so shy when you started as my fireman. Now you have a son with the most stubborn woman I've ever met."

"Hey!" Olivia shouted and Oscar burst out laughing.

"If I ever needed proof that this is that bloody engine!" He hollered. "Oh, you're Flying Scotsman alright!"

Olivia crossed her arms and glared at both of them.

"I'm already regretting letting you into my house," she scolded the Scotsman.

"It's a Gresley thing, Ms Olivia," Scotsman smirked. "We all have it to some degree."

He peered into the cot and smiled at Baby Scott. "I'm sure Little Scott here will have some stubbornness too."

Olivia just glared at him, still fuming at the stubborn woman's comment.

"You know Vincent and I have been a relief crew for Gordon and Green Arrow these days," Oscar smirked with a smile on his face. "You're all stubborn mules when you can be."

Olivia rolled her eyes. The Scotsman just smirked.

"It's only morning and already with the teasing," she said annoyed.

"Gordon was complaining that we named my son after Flying Scotsman the other day," Oscar sighed. "I tried to explain but he wasn't having it."

"Yeah well, that's his problem, we name our sweet baby boy whatever we wish," Olivia said, turning her attention to Baby Scott who was trying to grab at Scotsman's hand. She grabbed the baby's attention with a rattle and Baby Scott laughed and grabbed at the toy. The Scotsman watched delighted and curious at the small baby.

"I did say that if we ever had another son we could name it Gordon," Oscar explained and Olivia raised an eyebrow at him.

"Settle down now I just had Scott," she said with a winch of pain. "Having this one was not fun."

"I know, but I did warn Gordon," Oscar said.

"Warn him of what?" Scotsman asked looking at his fireman

"That if we named our next son Gordon, then he really will be the 'Little Brother,'" Oscar said with a smirk. Olivia snorted laughter. The Scotsman just grinned widely at that.

"He went very quiet after I told him that."

"Oh, I bet that ridiculous brother of mine did."

~~~

Ryan was surprised to find Ulfstead Castle surprisingly devoid of life. There was a cold feeling about the castle even though it was a warm day.

“Hello?” Ryan called as he slowly trundled through the castle, looking around for anyone. “I’ve got a delivery of goods for the castle!”

There was no answer and he didn’t know why but he just felt nervous and scared. Something was wrong here, something was off.

“Stephan? Millie? Arrow?!” He called out desperately. There was no answer.

It was the middle of the afternoon, the estate engines must be out on their jobs. City of Truro however was usually out on display in the castle walls for Tourists to come up and admire or talk to him if they wished. Today there was no one.

"Mr Truro sir?" Ryan called out nervously. He gazed around the castle, peeking into shadows, extremely anxious. Truro was a kind old engine who although didn't speak much, treated him with the utmost respect when he saw him. Duck was right about him, Truro truly was a classy act and he could see why Duck was so devoted to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw humans moving in the shadows and the soft hiss of a steam engine.

He couldn't see the engine very well as it was covered in shadow but from what he could see, the engine was big. Very big. Express Engine Big.

"Who's there?" Ryan squeaked, frightened. "I know there's someone there!"

“Ah, Ryan!” Sir Robert’s voice called out to him right beside him and Ryan let out a shrill terrified scream.

"Oh my goodness!" Sir Robert jumped at Ryan's reaction. "Dear boy, don't frighten an old man like that!"

"I'm sorry sir! You just startled me, sir! I'm sorry!" Ryan hurriedly said.

"No harm done," the Earl smiled at him. "What's gotten you so jumpy today hmm?"

"I thought I saw," Ryan looked over and tried to see the engine again. It had seemingly vanished but Ryan swore he knew that it was still there in the shadows, watching him. "Never mind, it's just my overactive mind sir. Don't mind me."

Sir Robert didn't look convinced but disregarded it and smiled at him.

"I assume you're here to deliver the supplies for the museum opening, yes?" He asked and Ryan perked up, glad to be distracted.

"Yes sir! Sir Topham Hatt said to deliver them as quickly as possible and here I am!" Ryan smiled a goofy smile.

"So you are," Sir Robert laughed. "Well if that's all then you're free to go!"

"Thank you, sir! Good-bye, sir!"

Ryan gave one last look to where he could feel the eyes of an engine on him. An icy cold chill crept into his boiler as he felt a pair of calculating eyes on him. He quickly hurried away as fast as his wheels could take him.

"You can't keep me locked in here like a princess in a castle Mallard," Truro's voice echoed from the sheds as Mallard watched the small tank engine puff away, clearly frightened. "People will talk, I have friends on this Island, people will start snooping."

Mallard didn't answer the Great Western. He just kept his eyes on the front of the castle, watching Sir Robert.

"Sir Robert will get suspicious, he knows Bittern, you can't fool him for long," Truro argued. "You and Bittern have wildly different personalities."

Mallard said nothing, only reversed back into a berth beside Truro.

"I'm counting on it," Mallard said vaguely and Truro just stared at him confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Flying Scotsman treasures you dearly Great Western."

"My name is Truro."

Mallard snorted and rolled his eyes, "Irreverent."

City of Truro glared at him.

"What do you think Flying Scotsman would do if I threatened you, I wonder? Or had you turned into a soulless engine to be preserved?" Mallard asked, ignoring Truro's glare.

"You wouldn't dare, the museum-"

"Is under my control, dear Truro," Mallard said coldly. "The Board of Director's value profit over engine welfare. Humans are such a predictable lot."

"Olivia and Stainer-" Truro tried to reason but he was immediately shot down by Mallard.

"Did not tighten their grip on the Museum enough. They never considered that an engine could ever be behind such things."

"You're wrong," Truro sneered, catching Mallard's attention. "Lady Olivia suspected you for a long time. The little stunt you pulled with Arrow confirmed it for her. Is that why you convinced Cain to blacklist Olivia as an engineer for so long? Because you knew she would find you out?"

Mallard smiled.

"Regardless, human laws only apply to humans," Mallard said. "I am an engine. They cannot arrest an engine for murder or theft."

"That might be true but if Olivia got into contact with the Gresley Society you know what the consequences will be," Truro warned and Mallard's face shifted from his cold nasty sneer to one of anger for the first time.

"I'll have you thrown into the Golden Well," Mallard seethed. "I'll have your soul ripped from your engine and you can end up like the stories of that pathetic Mountain engine Godred! I'll have you watch as they scrap your engine!"

Truro glared right back at Mallard.

"Do it then," he challenged. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"No, you're not," Mallard said gazing at the Great Western. "But Scotsman is afraid of what I'll do to you. Knowing him he'll come if he knows I have you. He'll do anything I wish to save you. I wager he might even give his soul to save yours."

Truro went completely pale at Mallard's words.

He was right, Scotsman would give anything, even his own life to save him. He felt panic in him rise. He was essentially a hostage that Mallard could use to make Scotsman do anything he wished.

Mallard gave a sickening malicious grin as he saw the realisation of Truro's face.

"I see you understand now, Great Western."

~~~

Olivia stared pensively at her phone. She didn't want to contact her father but, Scotsman had said some very strange things about Great Northern.

Was it possible that he hadn't been scrapped? It was even more possible that Great Northern had been separated from his engine at the Gresley estate's request, to try and preserve him. Redeem him after Thompson had defiled one of their historic engines.

They'd had to get her permission to separate the Flying Scotsman from his engine. Ideally, they would have wanted the Gresley Society's permission but time had been too short.

Scotsman would have been dead within a week had they not acted quickly.

With a sigh, she grit her teeth and began to call her father.

"You separated Flying Scotsman without my permission," came the demanding voice of her father.

She instantly grew angry.

"Not even a 'hello daughter?'" She ground out angrily.

Her father snorted. "You don't carry our name anymore. You shouldn't have been able to give permission."

Olivia decided to ignore the harsh words and get to the point.

"Scotsman is asking about Great Northern," Olivia said. "I'd like to confirm if he was scrapped or not."

"He was scrapped in 1962 at Doncaster Works, nothing remains of him. You know this Olivia."

Olivia frowned at her father's dismissive and condescending tone.

"Don't talk down to me, I know that!" She snapped angrily.

"Then don't ask stupid questions you stupid girl," her father scowled and it took everything in her to not yell or hang up on him.

"What about his soul then? Was he separated from his engine before being broken up?"

There was a long pause of silence.

"Scotsman says that he saw Gresley's Ghost, that Gresley himself said that Great Northern's soul hadn't passed on."

There was another long pause.

"Well?" Olivia demanded.

"Perhaps you should come and visit."

~~~

Flying Scotsman almost jumped in fright as the door he was listening through suddenly opened and Olivia almost walked straight into him.

"Scotsman!" She snapped and Scotsman's face turned red and he backed away from her startled and flustered. "Were you eavesdropping on me?"

"No I-!" Scotsman stammered before staring at Olivia's unapproving face and lowering his gaze to the ground. "Yes, ma'am. I was eavesdropping on you." He finally said defeated.

"You are a pest and a menace!" She scolded. "Green Arrow is supposed to be the nosy one."

"Well I have been hanging out with him a lot more in the past year," Scotsman said. "I guess he did kinda rub off on me."

Olivia said nothing and just stood there glaring at him furiously. He'd intruded on something very personal. She was rarely so angry towards others.

The Scotsman gazed at her sadly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry on your relations, Ms Olivia. I was just desperate for information on Great Northern."

Olivia sighed and seemed to calm before crossing her arms and wandering to the kitchen. The Scotsman followed her cautiously.

"I think that his soul was separated from his engine before he was scrapped," Olivia explained as she sat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. Scotsman joined, sitting next to her.

"I would need to confirm it by seeing him in person," Olivia said. "But I think… he may have been an 'Uncle' that was on my mother's estate when I was little."

"What makes you think that?" Scotsman asked cautiously.

"When myself and my two younger brothers were growing up, our father tried to force my brothers to become Railway engineers," Olivia explained quietly. "Even though Griffin wanted to be a Pilot and Gordon wanted to be an Astronomer."

Olivia handed him a photo frame from the top of one of the kitchen shelves.

"You have a brother named Gordon?" Scotsman asked as he stared at the photo of three young children. It was a proper static photo. No flash, no personality, all three children clearly did not want to be there.

Olivia smiled. "Funny how that is, isn't it? He's my younger brother. I'm the oldest of the three of us."

"What about you? What did you want to be?" The Scotsman asked but he already knew the answer.

"I wanted to be the Flying Scotsman's engineer!" Olivia gave a soft laugh and Scotsman grinned.

"Of course you did," he teased with a smirk. "Who wouldn't want to be my engineer?"

Olivia just rolled her eyes at him.

"But Father didn't approve, he was old-fashioned," she looked away from the Scotsman. "He said the only thing I was good for was to marry into a rich family and make the family more powerful. Have the heir to a dynasty. All that garbage."

Scotsman's jovial tone instantly vanished and he gazed at her sadly. "I'm sorry."

Olivia looked at him.

"Father would punish me, every time my brothers shared their engineering studies with me, every time he found the books I smuggled into my room to learn on my own," Olivia said quietly. "In the end, I just left, I moved in with a friend once I was old enough. Started from nothing and made enough money to go and study engineering. I got my degree, I became a railway engineer to spite him."

"What about your brothers?" Scotsman asked.

"Well Griffin became a commercial 737 airline pilot and Gordon, well he dropped the whole Astronomy thing and worked as a Sous Chef for an Italian Family business who he married into. He adores it. His family-in-law was more of a family to us than our own ever was." Olivia smirked. "We're living our best life."

Scotsman gazed at her. He was happy that she'd conquered her appalling childhood but that didn't explain her theory of Great Northern.

"What about Great Northern?" He asked. "Where does he fit in?"

"Well, our mother always had a servant or a 'brother' with her. She was Gresley's daughter after all. She had the prestige our father adopted as his own," Olivia said. "Mother's servant kept to himself and he never interacted with the rest of the family. Unless my brothers were studying to become railway engineers."

"I see."

"He had a bizarre way of speaking about engines," Olivia recounted. "Sometimes he would slip into speaking about them in the first person."

"So you think that was him?"

"Perhaps. The engine was possibly an A3 due to how much he knew of them," Olivia mused. "But he was obsessed with you. He would take any opportunity to see you when you ran. He had stacks and stacks of newspaper articles and models upon models of the Flying Scotsman in his personal study. To be honest, it was extremely creepy. When I told father I wanted to be your engineer he began to share his collection with me. Told me everything about you. It was… really weird."

The Flying Scotsman stared blankly at the counter table.

"It couldn't be North," he mumbled. "North despised me. He did nothing but criticise and harass me. Maybe it was Donovan? Donovan began to idolise me after my record run. He spoke to me and followed me whenever he could. He became very annoying in the end. I asked the LNER directors to move him because he was such a hassle to deal with while I worked."

Olivia tapped her fingers over the countertop.

"I guess we'll find out soon enough who it is."

"We?" Scotsman asked.

"One of the conditions my father put forward was to find out about Great Northern was to bring you along."

The Scotsman gave a curious humm and looked at Olivia.

"Well then, I have a condition of my own," he said with a sly smile.

"Alright, what is it you meance?" Olivia said with an annoyed glance.

"I want Gordon to come with us."

~~~

Chapter Text

Thomas found Gordon waiting for him by the Wishing Tree, his blue paint gleaming in the moonlight.

“Green Arrow saw me as he was heading to Vicarstown for the night. He was very suspicious,” Thomas warned and Gordon rolled his eyes.

“I don’t care for my sneak of a cousin’s nosy ways,” Gordon huffed annoyed. “You’re certain that he didn’t follow you?”

“He was pulling the Flying Kipper so unless he wants to get into trouble with Henry or the Fat Controller then it’s fine,” Thomas said. “I saw him just as he was leaving Brendam Docks so he’ll be hours.”

“Ah good, that keeps him out of our smoke for at least 4 hours,” Gordon remarked. “His class was famous for pulling fish trains anyway, I say that it suits him.”

“Yes I know, Scotsman told me about his friend Coldstreamer,” Thomas explained. “Pulled the trains so fast that when she reached her destination the ice hadn’t even started to melt. I think that’s pretty impressive.”

“Of course, they’re smaller versions of myself!” Gordon puffed up proudly before his face turned red and he glanced at Thomas. “Don’t you ever tell anyone I admitted that!”

Thomas just gave a cheeky laugh.

“I’m serious Thomas.”

“Alright, alright, my lips are sealed,” Thomas reassured the big engine. “So, what’s got you grumpier than usual? Apart from Biggin Hill?”

“There’s a particularly nasty engine that snuck onto the island the other night,” Gordon said. “I’ve never met him personally but almost all of the mainland engines warned me about him and had nothing nice to say about him.”

“Who?”

“An engine named Mallard.”

“Oh, I’ve met him!” Thomas suddenly said, stunning Gordon.

“You’ve what?” Gordon asked dumbfounded. “When did you meet him?”

“When I went to the Railway Museum, you remember?” Thomas pointed out and Gordon let out a wheesh of steam. He was still envious of Thomas being chosen over him for that excursion.

“What was he like?” Gordon asked and Thomas looked thoughtful.

“Well, all the other museum engines avoided him,” Thomas said. “When they were arguing about who was going to take a special train, Mallard tended to be condescending and mean-spirited towards the other engines, especially when he didn’t get his way.”

“What about Truro? Was he there?”

“Yes actually, a lot of the engines confided in him as a sort of leader, Scotsman was there too but he also tended to default to Truro's judgement,” Thomas recalled. “Truro was super nice as he always was. But what’s Mallard doing here?”

Gordon frowned and looked away from Thomas.

“He was the one behind Cain trying to scrap my brother and he was the one who convinced that driver to remove Green Arrow’s voice box,” Gordon said bitterly.

Thomas was silent, too stunned to speak.

“He’s here to try and kill my brother, I’m sure of it,” Gordon said bitterly. “He’s using Truro to try and bait Scotsman in. You know how close those two are.”

Thomas was speechless, the look on his face was horrified.

“We, we, we have to do something!” Thomas cried out but he was soon hushed by Gordon. “What if he hurts Truro to try and get Scotsman to him?”

“I don’t know Thomas, I just don’t,” Gordon said through gritted teeth. “Olivia and Stainer are moving fast to try and stop him and they say Scotsman is safe but I don’t know if that will last. But what I know is that Scotsman doesn’t know that Mallard is here and they’re trying to keep it that way.”

“What if we did something? What if the entire Railway were to go against him?”

“That would be stupid,” Gordon scolded. “Mallard might do something to Truro, remember?”

Thomas looked panicked and frightened.

“Well, we should at least tell someone!”

“Green Arrow apparently already knows,” Gordon said. “I overheard him, Ryan and Duck talking about trying to get Truro out of the castle. Arrow’s had Ryan snooping around the Castle for answers.”

“Do you think they’d be able to pull something off?” Thomas asked.

Gordon looked curiously up at the sky.

“I don’t know, but the engines on the mainland often described Green Arrow as a sneaky mastermind who could get things done,” Gordon mused. “One of the Bullied’s told me that if I ever needed to get one up on someone, Green Arrow was the engine to talk to.”

Thomas looked at the track before him as Gordon gave a wheesh of steam.

“Thomas, I know you want to help them, but please keep yourself away from whatever they’re doing,” Gordon said. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

Thomas looked up at Gordon and his expression softened.

“I won’t,” he said and Gordon frowned.

“Promise me you won’t get involved in this,” he demanded and Thomas pouted.

“Why can’t you trust me, Gordon?”

“Because it’s you and you’re a little gremlin,” Gordon pointed out, making Thomas pull a face at him.

“Alright Gordon, I promise not to go nosing around in Arrow’s business.”

“Good.”

~~~

"Greetings Young Iron!" A voice called to her as she sat at Vicarstown with her coaches. Her face wrinkled in confusion as she glanced over to the engine that had spoken. A large black engine with red stripes stopped next to her.

She recognised it as 45025, the LMS Black 5's leader. An engine that had long ago insulted her the first time she'd met it.

"Oh hello, 5025, still in the business of being nasty to young builds are we?" She asked snidely and 5025 just smirked at her.

"I see Flying Scotsman has imprinted some of his snark onto you," 5025 laughed. "Regardless, it's good to see you up and about, Peppercorn."

Tornado resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"Are you here to see Henry?" She asked, ignoring his remarks. "And maybe keep your sister in line.

"Alright what has Hillsy done now?" 5025 asked with a scowl. "Has she been picking on you?"

"Not me, she insulted me once but stopped after I snapped at her," Tornado explained. "But she's been nothing but nasty to Gordon!"

"That little brat, I warned her!" 5025 hissed angrily. He looked furious. "I told her to behave herself and not start anything!"

"Yeah well, Henry's furious because Gordon is his best friend," Tornado told him. "She seems to be set on bullying Gordon despite the fact he never worked on the LNER. It's strange."

5025 looked thoughtful.

"Thank-you for informing me Tornado, I shall have her replaced with one of my more agreeable siblings," he said and gazed at Tornado. "You've matured a lot since we last met. You used to be a timid little crybaby."

Tornado snorted and looked offended.

"You haven't changed from being a stuck-up enormous twat," she scolded and 5025 gave a soft chuckle.

"Dealing with you younglings will do that to an engine," he laughed. "Say hello to Tangmere for me won't you?"

Tornado just glared at him as he steamed awake with a self-important smirk.

"Pompous git," she seethed angrily. Matthias shushed her but she didn't care. She didn't like 5025 and he knew that.

~~~

"What do you mean you're putting Arrow on the express?" Gordon thundered angrily. He was furious and had exploded in rage that night when the Fat Controller had approached him at the end of his final train.

"Why Arrow?! Why not me?!" James shrieked next to him. "I've pulled the express before!"

"Silence!" Sir Topham Hatt barked. The two engines fell into a fury-filled silence.

Sir Topham Hatt turned and looked at Gordon who just stared at him with a nasty look on his face.

"You are not being pulled off the express for any misdeeds," he assured Gordon. "Instead, Olivia Spence has requested your presence for a private venture."

"I am not a private engine sir," Gordon hissed. "I am your engine."

"True, however, Ms Spence requested you because she wants to show you off to the Gresley Society."

Gordon was stunned.

"The Gresley Society sir?" He was confused. In 100 years, the Gresley estate hadn’t even requested anything of him. They seemed to shun him entirely, pretending that he didn’t exist.

“You’ll be going with Olivia, Vincent will be your driver,” The Fat Controller said and Gordon froze.

If Vincent was going then it also meant that Scott was going too. This probably meant that it was to keep him away from Mallard. He frowned and looked back at his Controller suddenly attentive.

“What about,” Gordon hesitated. He didn’t want to mention Truro but he was worried. “What about the opening of the museum sir? It’s in a couple of days.”

“Stainer is handling the event,” The Fat Controller said with a pensive look on his face. It was clear that he knew what was going on. “Green Arrow will take over your duties in that regard.

“What!” James was outraged. “That Green pest keeps taking all the good jobs!”

Gordon frowned. Green Arrow had been assigned to duties that were supposed to keep him away from Mallard. It didn’t make sense unless his cousin was onto something and was colluding with Stainer. The engine was devious and clever and he had personal ties to both Mallard and Truro. He knew both of them well enough and could most probably anticipate anything the two were up to. The V2 was planning something and Stainer was clearly in on it.

It gave him some kind of reassurance.

“Is there any reason that it’s Green Arrow and not Tornado?” Gordon asked. “Tornado is a more suitable fit as my replacement. She’s roughly the same size as me.”

“That is true Gordon, but Tornado is young and does not know how to handle herself as well in certain situations.”

Introducing Tornado into the scenario might escalate things. And it was known that her Trust did not want her anywhere near Mallard.

Gordon looked away from his controller. In his mind that confirmed it. Green Arrow was possibly planning something with Stainer and Olivia. He didn’t like the smaller engine but he had to trust something in this confusing and tenuous time. Sending Gordon and his brother to the mainland was a solid confirmation that they were trying to keep them out of the way.

“I see,” Gordon said quietly. “When do I leave for the mainland sir?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Gordon choked out in complete surprise.

“You better get going if you want a wash down and a quick look over,” The Fat Controller urged as Green Arrow appeared on Gordon’s line to take his place.

“Good Morning Gordon,” Green Arrow greeted him as he slowed to a stop behind him. “Your express is safe with me. I pride myself on keeping to time.”

James gave an indignant humph and glared at the V2 while Gordon only glanced back at him curiously.

The engine was planning something, he could sense it. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, well be sure that you do Little Arrow,” Gordon said to him. “And don’t make a mess of the museum opening while you’re at it.”

“Oh I’m the last engine who’s going to be doing that dear Gordon, Duck’s got me on a tight schedule, you know how those Great Westerns are,” Arrow said coolly. “They’ll be calling me the Flying Arrow in no time. You just have fun on the mainland with our little friend.”

Green Arrow wasn’t talking about the little green pannier tank engine and he wasn’t calling himself the Flying Arrow to piss Gordon off. Gordon almost smirked at Arrow’s cleverness. James just looked confused.

“What are you talking about you, great green idiot?” James sneered, not realising the subtext.

“Things only express engines would know about James,” Gordon said and James’ jaw dropped in shock at Gordon defending Green Arrow.

“What-”

Before James could finish, Gordon had powered off leaving James very confused as Green Arrow took Gordon’s place with a proud smirk. James glared at him.

“You know, you’d complement your paint much better if you smiled more James,” Green Arrow teased him.

“Oh so you’re acting like Flying Scotsman now too are you?” James sneered.

“I mean, you said it yourself, I am just a smaller version of Gordon’s class,” Arrow smirked.

James almost burst a valve at that comment.

~~~

Godred sat still fuming in his room. It had been a week since that famous engine had been removed from the castle to goodness knew where. It wasn’t his fault. He just wanted to understand why Scotsman had survived when no others had. When his friends hadn’t.

Richards had asked him why he hadn’t gotten along with Scotsman. It had been almost 80 years since he’d seen another ‘engine soul’ in a human body like him. Richards had believed that he would have been overjoyed that there was now someone he could relate to. Someone who didn’t treat him like an outsider or a freak.

He didn’t want to be accepted by that pompous LNER Golden Boy, he didn’t want his friendship. He wanted his engine back, he wanted to see his friends again.

Richards had reminded him that his friends had shunned him after he had been caught stealing Alaric’s cylinder block and he’d been found to have been trying to assemble his own engine in the basement of the house they had given him.

Richard’s father, the railway manager at the time had been furious as his actions had damaged Alaric due to his lack of engineering knowledge that Alaric had been decommissioned until a new cylinder block had to be made in Switzerland and shipped over. That was until they realised that the engineering firm that made their engine parts was no longer catering to steam engines.

It had cost the Culdee Railway so much to repair him that they had almost gone bankrupt and had shut down until Sir Hatt at that time had bailed them out as the railway was a lifeline for some of the farmers on the mountain. Even now, the debt still hung over the railway and he was banished to live at Ulfstead Castle. The Culdee Engines had blamed him and shunned him.

He had just wanted to return to his engine. He refused to listen to the Earl’s of Sodor who said it was impossible now that his engine had been scrapped. He’d urged them to build him a new engine so that he could return to it but they refused to listen to him.

Maybe if he found Flying Scotsman’s engine and-

“Godred, this place is a mess,” Richards scolded him as he entered the room. Godred said nothing, he just sat there with a sour look on his face.

“Must you insist on being childish?” He asked and Godred sneered and looked away from him. “We’ve done everything to try and accommodate you over the years. Yet you still insist on acting like an insolent brat.”

“I want to go back to my engine,” he said angrily.

Richard gave an exhausted sigh. “Your engine is gone. It was scrapped. The last pieces still in use belong to other engines now, there’s barely 5% left of your original self.”

“This isn’t fair! There’s barely anything left of the original Flying Scotsman left and yet you’re trying to find a way to put him back!” Godred yelled rounding on Richards.

Richards crossed his arms.

“Do you think the other Culdee Engines will accept you back even if we tried?” He said bluntly and Godred looked at him angrily. “You permanently damaged Alaric.”

“You humans refused to help me!” He snarled. “I had to take matters into my own hands! I don’t care! You can sell me off to another mountain railway just please!”

“There’s very few Mountain Railways in the world and your story is infamous Godred, they will not accept you,” Richards said and Godred looked furious.

It was a common talk that they had had. Godred simply refused to accept his fate.

“I had hoped that Flying Scotsman’s success would mean you would give this up, Scotsman’s upset about being human but he has taken it well,” Richards tried to reason with him. “I hoped that you’d find a friend in him but obviously not.”

“He’s a spoiled little brat that gets everything he wants,” Godred sulked.

“He’s not the one acting like one,” Richards pointed out coldly.

Godred said nothing in return.

“You’re free to roam the castle now, but if you disrupt the celebrations, we’ll confine you to your room again,” Richards warned as he turned to leave.

Godred just sulked.

~~~

“You’re up to something,” Rebecca narrowed her eyes at Green Arrow. Green Arrow smiled at the Yellow Engine.

“Whatever do you mean?” The green engine asked with false sweetness. “I’m not doing anything, dear Tangmere. I’m just about to make my way back to Tidmouth with the Express!”

“You’re a sneaky little turd and I’m on to you,” Rebecca sneered and Green Arrow grinned.

“Then just rub me off of your wheels then,” Green Arrow shot back. “Besides, you never mentioned that you saw that Blue A4 come through the other night to anyone.”

“It was just Bittern,” Rebecca said uncertainly. “He was visiting his friends.”

“Hm yes sure, Mr Party Animal that hasn’t said hello to literally everyone yet,” Green Arrow pointed out. “I’m sure he’s got a crankpin loose or something.”

“What are you-”

“Who has a crankpin lose?” Tornado asked as she rolled up to her platform.

“Arrow, Arrow has a crank pin loose,” Rebecca said quickly.

“Excuse me, I think you’ll find Gordon is the one who has the crankpin loose,” Arrow snapped back at her, catching on to what she was trying to do. “Old man needs a good work over if you ask me.”

“Old man who always outperforms you, you snotty little engine!” Rebecca sneered at Arrow and Tornado rolled her eyes.

“Right,” Tornado said, zoning out of their conversation realising they were just hurling insults at each other.

“Something wrong Tornado?” Rebecca asked. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just banter Tornado, I don’t mean to insult Gordon,” Arrow assured her. “He’s a grumpy old man but he’s a good engine.”

“It’s just-” Tornado started before looking away. “I went to see Truro earlier today but they said he wasn’t at the castle. They seemed insistent on getting me to leave.”

Rebecca and Arrow glanced at each other.

“Did I do something wrong?” Tornado asked meekly.

“No, Tornado, no,” Rebecca reassured her. “You did nothing wrong, sweetie.”

“They’re busy preparing for the opening celebrations,” Arrow added. “They probably couldn’t let you in because you might have disrupted their preparations.”

“That’s right,” Rebecca said. “So please, don’t take it personally, alright?”

Tornado seemed to lighten up at the two engines' explanations.

“Oh, I see,” she smiled. “That makes sense. 5025 sends his regards to Rebecca."

"Ah, that old codger," Rebecca smiled. "Such a fine engine."

Tornado snorted in disagreement as she was uncoupled from her coaches.

“Where are you off to now Tornado?” Rebecca asked.

“Oh, I’m just going to help Henry with a long goods train. He asked me earlier after Hiro was held up on the mainland after a train derailed on the mainline,” Tornado explained, her mood brightening.

“Good, good, say hello to Henry for me!” Rebecca called to Tornado as she began to pull away.

“I will!”

As Tornado disappeared into the distance Rebecca rounded on Green Arrow.

“I don’t know what you’re planning but if it hurts Tornado, you’ll answer to me you snake,” she hissed at him and Arrow just gave her a small smile.

“I’m more of a harmless little python. The engine I’m dealing with is a King Cobra.” That was all he said leaving Rebecca extremely confused.

~~~

“I hear that you lost Gadwell,” the Flying Scotsman said as he pulled up beside the black A4 sitting ahead of him in the yards. All their liveries were black these days. The war had seen to that. “My condolences.”

The A4, 4498, or Sir Nigel Gresley gazed back at him. He looked saddened and depressed but otherwise still held himself to the highest appearance.

“Bombers dropped a bomb on his shed, it exploded between him and 925,” 4498 said solemnly. "There was no saving him. His soul had left his engine before morning, same with 925."

He sounded shaken but he kept his appearance uptight and strong.

Keep calm and carry on as the humans were constantly saying these days.

The Flying Scotsman looked at his buffers and gave a deep sigh.

“It feels like the entire world is going insane,” he said bitterly. He gazed up at the cloudy night sky. “How are the other A4s dealing with it?”

“We’ve kept a low profile so I, unfortunately, have no idea,” Sir Nigel said. “Falcon, Australia and New Zealand are the only ones working in this area. I heard from Falcon that some of them don’t even know that Sir Gresley is no longer with us, the war has kept groups of us separated for so long.”

The Flying Scotsman looked at his buffers quietly. He was still trying to make sense of the loss of their designer. He knew he had to step up and take over as leader of the A3 class but part of him was resisting. Great Northern was pushing back despite all of his siblings referring to him as the patriarchal leader these days.

“Great Northern still causing you grief?” Sir Nigel asked and the Flying Scotsman sighed.

“He doesn’t accept my leadership,” Scotsman grumbled. “It’s been a decade since my record, I’ve earned the respect of all my siblings except him. I don’t understand it.”

“If it’s any consolation, most of us A4s respect you as your class's leader,” Sir Nigel said kindly. “You set the gold standard. You were the first. That cannot be taken from you, no matter how much Mallard whines.”

Flying Scotsman rolled his eyes.

“I honestly don’t care that he broke my speed record, Silver Link did that and I'm proud of him for it, it’s the way Mallard goes on about it that’s infuriating,” Scotsman hissed steam. “Hell, I think Silver Link is tired of him as well.”

“He’s young,” Sir Nigel put forward. “Hopefully he’ll grow out of this phase and realise there are more important things in the world.”

“Wasn’t Gadwell younger than Mallard?” Scotsman asked and Sir Nigel closed his eyes in mourning.

“I’m sorry,” Scotsman apologised, realising his lack of tact. “That was insensitive of me.”

Sir Nigel sat still for a long while before opening his eyes and looking back at the Scotsman.

“How is that older sister of mine? Is she doing well? Is she pulling the Flying Scotsman up to your standards?"

“She’s doing most impressively,” Scotsman smiled. “Silver Fox is a credit to your class and she’s making a lot of friends. The other A3s around our yard love her company, especially Polly.”

“Ah yes Pretty Polly,” Sir Nigel said wistfully. “Double-headed with her a while ago, very fierce, speaks her mind but very good at what she does.”

“She’s getting very nasty towards Great Northern,” Scotsman said quietly. “I don’t know what to do every time they fight. If I break them up, Great Northern will always turn on me and Polly will instantly step in to defend me again causing the fight to escalate.”

The Flying Scotsman looked away from Sir Nigel.

“They would have never pulled this when our designer was still alive,” he sighed before looking back at Sir Nigel. “You've got a good history at dealing with Capercaillie and Mallard, what would you do?”

Sir Nigel snorted.

“My siblings only listen to me because of my name and Silver Link is a pushover,” he said dismissively. “If you wanted any kind of advice on something like that I’d go to Quicksilver, she’ll get any fight under control.”

“I don’t think I’ve met her, but I know she’s friends with Colorado and Sir Hugo,” Scotsman mused. “Got into trouble for going out in the middle of an air raid.”

“That’s her,” Sir Nigel said. “Silver King and herself have done it several times to rescue people from the German Bombers.”

“I don’t see how they’re getting into trouble for actively going out and saving lives when the authorities aren’t doing enough to save people,” Scotsman scowled. "They saved hundreds of people and all they got was a nasty discipline."

“Humanity is a strange thing Scotsman,” Sir Nigel said softly. “I doubt we’ll ever understand how they work.”

Sir Nigel saw his crew preparing to set off again.

“Well Flying Scotsman, I’ll pass your condolences to my other siblings,” he smiled at the other engine. “As for Great Northern, I think he won’t pick fights with you for a while.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Gadwell and himself were very close friends,” Sir Nigel said quietly. “I suggest that you let him mourn his friend and try not to let the others antagonise him.”

“I see,” Flying Scotsman said concerned. “I’ll be sure to try and keep Polly from instigating stuff for a while.”

“Take care Flying Scotsman, hopefully, we’ll still be in one piece after all this madness,” Sir Nigel said with a blast of his whistle.

Scotsman smiled at the LNER A4 as he began to glide away into the night.

“Take care of yourself, old friend.”

When Flying Scotsman returned to the small yards where himself, several of his siblings and some shunters were staying he was immediately accosted by one of the little N2 Tank Engine shunters who came rushing out to meet him. He recognised it as Peony, an excitable and energetic thing whose hyperactive attitude wore on his patience occasionally.

“Mr Flying Scotsman sir!” The little engine yelled as she rushed to meet him.

“Keep your voice down, it’s almost midnight!” He hissed at Peony.

"But sir Pretty Polly started attacking Great Northern again!"

"Oh for crying out loud!" He snapped angrily and followed Peony.

He had wanted a quiet night tonight. Everything had seemed calm enough for him to go out and visit Sir Nigel and catch up with his friend but in his absence, the two siblings had started another row.

It was getting extremely tiresome.

He found the two engines shouting and hurling insults at each other. He saw Spectre and Silver Fox in their berth clearly frustrated and at their wit's end.

The Scotsman looked around and saw that the lights in the buildings around them were on and dogs had started barking nearby.

This was bad, if an air raid was to happen right now… the consequences would be fatal.

"That's enough!" He shouted angrily over them. "I leave for an hour to speak with Sir Nigel and I come back to this!"

Both engines stopped their bickering and gazed at the Flying Scotsman who was staring at them furiously. In the other berths, the other engines looked equally fed up.

"North started to insult you again-"

"I don't care what started this, you both should know better!" The Scotsman seethed furiously. "You've disturbed the entire neighbourhood and your actions have put all of us at risk! What if an air raid was to happen now? Do I need to remind you what happened to Gadwell?"

Both engines looked at their buffers as they realised he was right. Great Northern backed into his berth slightly at the mention of the A4 Gadwall.

The Flying Scotsman calmed himself and addressed the engines present.

"Look, I know that everything's been nothing but stressful lately. The threat of bombs being dropped on our sheds, the loss of Sir Gresley, Gadwell's death," Scotsman told them. "But more than ever we need to help each other. If we start fighting amongst ourselves it could result in something fatal for us or the humans we work with. So I'm asking you all to just keep it together, please."

Pretty Polly looked guilty but then she gazed back up at Flying Scotsman and gave him an affirmative smile.

"Of course Flying Scotsman, I apologise for my behaviour," she said. "It was undignified of me."

Great Northern said nothing, he just sat in his berth silent and still, a dour look on his face.

The Flying Scotsman did not ask for an apology, he knew he wasn't going to get one. Gadwell's death was still recent and North had been very close to the A4.

For once the Scotsman pitied his older brother and decided to leave him be as the other engines turned in for another stressful night of anticipating the wail of air raid sirens.

~~~

The LNER No. 4498, Sir Nigel Gresley awoke to the sound of his shed being opened. He winched at the sudden bright daylight that streamed into his shed but as his eyes quickly adjusted he saw a small human figure dressed in all black approach him.

"Hello North," Sir Nigel smiled pleasantly at the man. "It's been a while. Are you doing well?"

The man frowned and ignored him.

"As lovely and sociable as always I see my cousin," he said amused. "Obsessing over your little brother still?"

"I do not obsess," the man ground out annoyed.

"Your actions speak otherwise dear friend," Sir Nigel said quietly. However, he was ignored as North cleaned out the dusty and unused berth next to him.

The older man looked tired and the scars on his face were pale streaks compared to the rest of his skin, contrasting harshly with the reddish-brown colour of his beard and hair. An unfortunate gift from Thompson, a constant reminder of how far he had fallen.

"Are we expecting a guest?" Sir Nigel asked and North sighed deeply. He stopped his sweeping but did not turn around and look at the great A4 Pacific who was sitting there contently.

"I don't know, Mr Gresley simply told me to get the berth ready for an engine," he said.

"Another Gresley comes to visit, how grand," Sir Nigel smiled to himself as North ignored him and returned to his duties.

"Who do you think it is? Did they give a hint?"

"No."

"How curious, I thought they would have said," Sir Nigel said thoughtfully. "Perhaps it's Union, come to exchange pleasantries. Or, if you're lucky maybe even one of your brothers."

North visibly went rigid at Sir Nigel's words but said nothing more.

"For someone so obsessed with your dear brother, you don't seem keen to see him again," Sir Nigel noted.

"My brother wants nothing to do with me," North said coldly. "He hates me. I can celebrate and be proud of him from a distance. I would only cause him more harm."

"You haven't spoken for over 50 years, you don't know that," Sir Nigel assured him.

"I do," North said, turning back to gaze up at the A4. "I would hate me too if I were him."

"He doesn't know about the Gold Dust, he won't even believe that you're Great Northern. You could speak on equal terms," Sir Nigel advised. "No other engines know about the Gold Dust."

"Mallard knows."

Sir Nigel was silent. His brother did know about the Gold Dust. But he'd never acted on the knowledge in the 50 years he knew of it.

"Regardless, it's not healthy for you to consume yourself in guilt North," Sir Nigel said concerned.

North gazed at Sir Nigel but then looked away and returned to preparing the berth. He heard Sir Nigel sigh in frustration but Great Northern did not care.

~~~

Chapter Text

"My word, you must be Henry correct?"

Henry was startled as an unfamiliar voice called out to him. The sound of a large engine slowly to a stop next to him echoed across the fields around them, its bark loud and rhythmic.

Henry had begun to recognise it as the sound of his siblings. Their engines sounded powerful and loud as if they had a bark to them. The sound of a true workhorse as Hillsy said.

"Yes I'm Henry," Henry said with a nervous smile as the black engine stopped beside him. The engine gave a hearty laugh.

"My what a strong engine you look," he said looking Henry up and down. He had a slight Scottish accent, Henry noted. "Your railway has kept you in fine condition."

"Thank you!" Henry blushed. "Who are you?"

"How rude of me I haven't introduced myself," the engine gave a throaty chuckle and grinned a friendly grin at him. "I am 5025, I'm somewhat of the leader of our class."

"Oh um hello, I wasn't expecting to see you, um," Henry immediately became flustered at the presence of the engine that his sister had told him he needed approval from.

5025 just laughed. "It's fine, completely fine! No need to be so nervous Henry! I'm not that important."

Henry just blushed, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

"I hear that Hillsy is making a nuisance of herself again," 5025 said and Henry looked at him nervously.

"She uh, she's been um, not very nice to my closest friend," Henry said looking down at his buffers. "My friend hasn't said anything though, I don't think he wants to upset me."

"Gordon, correct?" 5025 asked and Henry was surprised.

"I, yes, she's been passive-aggressive towards Gordon," Henry admitted. "Do you know him?"

"Met him briefly while he was covering for his brother on the mainland," 5025 said thoughtfully. "A nice engine, hard worker. Kept to himself and didn't involve himself with the drama we tend to have on the mainland."

Henry smiled. "That's him."

"I'll have Hillsy removed and replaced with another of our siblings," 5025 said matter of factly.

"What?" Henry was shocked. "I don't mean to cause trouble."

"It's no trouble at all Henry," 5025 reassured the green engine. "Hillsy has a history of inciting drama between engines of other railways. She promised me that she would behave herself but she has not. I do not wish any of our class to harass other engines, especially friends of our new sibling."

Henry was surprised. He hadn't been expecting 5025 to be so understanding or so accommodating.

"Thank you 5025,” Henry said with a coy smile. "It's been hard, I've been conflicted over this for days. I didn't want to upset either party but I fear I may have upset Hillsy by telling her to leave Gordon alone."

"You're loyal Henry," 5025 said approvingly. "A good quality in an engine. I do hope that Gordon does not hold it against us."

"I hope so too."

Henry looked over as one of the foremen in the yard waved him to tell him that his train was ready.

"Tornado has arrived and is ready to push from the back Henry," he said as Tornado's whistle sounded in the distance.

"I apologise, my train is ready," Henry blushed again and the Black 5 gave another laugh.

"Of course, of course," He said understanding. "Please don't let me keep you, Henry."

"It was lovely to meet you 5025," Henry said kindly. "I hope we can catch up later."

"Same here Henry, safe travels brother," 5025 smiled warmly at Henry and watched as he released excess steam and slowly began to pull the heavy goods train with Tornado.

He smiled as he sat there and watched Henry leave, pleased that at least one of his siblings was still pulling his weight.

He looked over as he saw Tornado pushing through with the train.

"Careful now Young Iron, don't push the train too hard, you might bust a cylinder," he teased Tornado playfully.

Tornado just hissed steam angrily at him.

"Blow it out your funnel old man!" She snapped back and 5025 just laughed.

He smirked as he saw her half-smile at his joke.

~~~

"I want to go to Ulfstead Castle," Green Arrow demanded of Stainer. "I want to see Mallard for myself."

"You know why I can't do that," Stainer snapped. "It's too dangerous."

"I'm not going to do something impulsive or stupid, you know me," Arrow said slyly.

"You do not belong to the museum anymore," Stainer reminded. "If something was to happen to you, we would owe the North Western Railway in damages which we cannot afford right now!"

"Then how else do you suppose to distract Mallard?" Arrow asked. "He will not fall for something unless it's worth his time. I'm worth his time. You think that toaster is going to be able to resist gloating to me?"

"We'll think of something," Stainer said but he sounded unsure. "Besides, we don't think he's after Scotsman, he's after something he thinks Scotsman can provide or lead him to."

"What do you mean?" Arrow asked, confused.

"Truro's trying to get answers himself," Stainer revealed. "And from what we know, Mallard's very interested in the Gold Dust. He somehow knew about it before arriving. Sir Nigel said he's known about it for almost 50 years."

"What? Did he know? But… how? And why is he acting on it now? Gold Dust isn't a well-known thing he could have acted so much-"

Stainer sighed.

Green Arrow blushed in embarrassment.

"I'm being nosy again, I'm sorry," Green Arrow mumbled. "I'll stop."

Stainer just shook his head.

"No it's fine Arrow," Stainer said. "He must have somehow weaselled the info out of Sir Nigel or Hamilton."

The A4 Sir Nigel Gresley and Hamilton were considered the highest respect engines representing their old railways. Of course, they would have known.

Green Arrow suddenly widened his eyes in shock.

"Did Truro also know about the Gold Dust, sir?"

Stainer gazed at Green Arrow curious before his eyes widened in horror.

"Yes, yes he does!"

"Maybe that's why Mallard is acting now, he was trying to get the museum to use Gold Dust to save Flying Scotsman from scrapping, but once he realised Truro was at Ulfstead Castle," Green Arrow said loudly and he was quickly shushed by Stainer. "He made arrangements to come here himself."

Stainer looked incredibly worried.

"Olivia is taking Flying Scotsman to the mainland," he said. "He should be safe."

"Is it wise to take him away from Ulfstead Castle sir? After what happened last time?"

"Olivia is taking him to the LNER's old Golden Well," Stainer explained. "He will be safe there. Sir Nigel himself protects it. Mallard wouldn't dare try something with him around."

Green Arrow looked on approvingly. Sir Nigel was one of the most respected engines in the United Kingdom. He had shared leadership over his own class with the indomitable Lady Quicksilver, or the Silver Queen as joked by the A4s.

The only time he'd ever seen Sir Nigel upset was when news of her scrapping reached him. It was probably why over the past few decades he'd become so close to Spencer, the first and last of the original Silver Jubilee A4s.

"Still sir, I must insist that I distract Mallard," Green Arrow said. "He loathed my entire class, he tried to silence me, he's not going to be able to resist if I present myself to him on a silver platter as it were."

"Absolutely not," Stainer said in a voice of final tone. "Arrow, I know you want to make this plan of your work and so do I but it's too risky. We can't risk another incident with you. And you're too small, Mallard could seriously damage you."

"Too small, too small!" Arrow suddenly shrieked angrily. "I'm bigger than Truro! I'm as strong as an A3! I am not 'too small!'"

Stainer immediately backed away, putting his hands up defensively. Olivia had warned him not to criticise or downplay Arrow's size and strength. It was rather a sensitive topic for the V2.

"Alright Arrow, I'm sorry!" Stainer tried defusing the now furious Green Arrow. "I did not mean to insult you!"

Arrow stopped yelling but now he simply sat in his berth sulking childishly. He turned his nose up at Stainer and was now ignoring him.

Stainer sighed to himself, he knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with Arrow now that he had straight-up insulted him.

"I've insulted you, I'm truly sorry Arrow," he apologised again. "But my decision is final. You will not be going up there to distract Mallard."

"Then who else will! It won't work if it isn't me!"

Stainer frowned. Arrow was right, for the plan to work, there needed to be an appropriate candidate.

"I'll think of something," he said but Arrow didn't look convinced and sulked harder.

~~~

Gordon lit up when he saw Lady Olivia's blue 4WD pull up beside the station. It had been a long while since he had seen his brother, he was excited to see him and this time spend time with him.

The Guards began to load his carriage with luggage as he sat almost trembling with anticipation. The carriage was one of Scotsman's special coaches, not Lydia thankfully, but a nice coach named Otis who was agreeable and friendly.

"Hello, Gordon! Ready for a long journey today?" Oscar came up and asked. "We'll be making a stop off along the way."

"A stop off?" Gordon asked. He did not like last-minute alterations to his schedules. They ruined his day and made him agitated and angry.

"Nothing too major, just to pick up Olivia's Brother," Oscar smiled. "I hope that's not too out of the way for you."

"No, no, it's fine," Gordon mumbled. It wasn't fine but at least it wasn't too disruptive. Not like the maintenance works on the mainline earlier in the week.

"Hello Gordon you wonderful engine," Olivia greeted him and any annoyance he had felt at having his day changed faded instantly.

"Hello, ma'am!" Gordon greeted her excitedly. He saw that she had her baby with her and smiled. "Is that little Scott?"

"Why yes it is, would you like to say hello?" Olivia asked gently, holding the baby up so he could see him.

Gordon smiled. Despite others believing that he hated children, he enjoyed their company. They were often fascinated or impressed with him and Gordon loved their attention, even when they got fingerprints over his paint.

"He's lovely ma'am, a very adorable child," he smiled. "A lot more good-looking than my brother ever could be."

"Excuse me!" A voice snapped and Gordon smirked as he heard angry footsteps coming toward him.

A very tall, kind of lanky man with unnatural green eyes and fluffy brown hair stormed up angrily to face Gordon.

"Well hello little brother," Gordon teased and the man looked even more furious.

Olivia rolled her eyes and tutted disapprovingly.

"You're just jealous that I get to do things that you can't," Scotsman retorted. "On account of myself having hands now."

Gordon rolled his eyes. "If only you knew how to keep them from putting things in my tender," he said, annoyed.

The Scotsman stared down at his hands.

"Imagine all the things I could pull on Bittern," he said suddenly gleefully and Gordon looked suddenly concerned.

"You pull any pranks on me and I will refuse to take you anywhere!" He warned and Scotsman feigned an innocent look.

"Why, whatever do you mean Gordon?"

Olivia stepped in.

"Enough," She said, annoyed. "Scotsman behave yourself."

"Yes ma'am," Scotsman sighed.

He looked over Gordon curiously.

"I'd still like to go on your footplate," he said. "No tricks, I promise, I just want to see what it's like for my crew."

Gordon himself looked intrigued and glanced at Vincent and Oscar.

"Would it be alright for my brother to join your crew?" He asked.

"This is a very long journey and Scotsman is still weak from his relapse," Oscar said sympathetically. "I would wait till a shorter journey. I'm sorry Scotsman."

Scotsman and Gordon looked disappointed but understood.

"Alright," Scotsman said with a sad smile. "Next time then brother."

Gordon smiled in affirmation.

"At least you'll get to experience how a proper engine pulls their coaches," Gordon remarked and Scotsman just rolled his eyes at that as he went to help Olivia push Little Scott's pram on board Otis.

Scotsman gazed around at the coach.

"So this is what the coaches look like on the inside?" Scotsman mused gazing around at the interior.

It was a luxurious coach with deep red upholstery on the seats, golden trim and ornate designs carved into the walls.

"Not all coaches are like this. Your coaches tend to be more luxurious than most," Olivia explained as she settled into a seat with Baby Scott. "And Otis was designed for an Earl before becoming one of your first-class coaches."

"No wonder Lydia acts as she does," he murmured and Olivia chuckled.

"I think it's more because Lydia went to America with you. A coach rarely has such an honour as travelling overseas on a railtour," She smiled. "Still she could stand to lose a little of her attitude."

Scotsman gave a nervous smile as he sat down opposite her, his attention focused on some of Olivia's assistants and some of her accompanying travels like her doctor and Baby Scott's maid.

Olivia noticed Scotsman's nervousness and frightened demeanour.

"You're worried," she probed and Scotsman glanced at her before looking down at his lap.

"It's nothing, I'm just overthinking things as usual Ms Olivia," he mumbled to himself.

"Well, I'd still like you to tell me, maybe I can help," she said kindly.

Scotsman avoided eye contact and shifted uncomfortably in his seat before he finally tapped into his courage.

"I'm worried about going to the mainland, what if, what if the Cold Iron comes back? What if what happened last time happens again?" He mumbled nervously.

Olivia gazed at him sympathetically.

"We have taken precautions," she explained. "If you relapse on the journey we have appropriate tools here with us to make sure that it is not serious. Yes, there is a risk but you'll be monitored and we can immediately step in to stop anything from progressing."

The Scotsman nodded in understanding, his body language was still nervous, however.

"Something else is bothering you Scotsman?"

Scotsman nodded.

"I don't know what I'm going to do or how I feel about North," he said quietly. "If he is in fact that human. I- I- guess I should be happy that one of my siblings survived but… but…"

Scotsman balled his hands into fists.

"North hated me and I, I didn't do nice things to him either," Scotsman admitted, surprising Olivia.

"What do you mean? What did you do?"

"I-" Scotsman began shakily. "The LNER directors often went to me for advice on how to deal with engines or for my opinion of the railway and its workings, especially when it came to altering or changing engines. They did it with the other classes as well, like the A4s, P2s and Peppercorns. I- I- think I did something wrong. I let my hatred get the better of me."

"Scotsman what's wrong, please tell me, something's upsetting you," Olivia had now moved to sit beside him and comfort him as he struggled to speak now.

Scotsman shook his head.

"They asked me about Thompson's plans, they were trying to get an engine's opinion to stop him, they didn't want Thompson to defile North with his plans to rebuild him," Scotsman whispered. "I- I- let them rebuild him despite their arguments and desires to stop Thompson."

Scotsman sounded bitter and guilty at himself.

"I let Thompson turn North into his hideous rebuild. I let him defile his perfect Gresley design," Scotsman stared at his hands. "I did it out of spite. He was right there, he was threatening Gordon and me-"

Scotsman looked genuinely distressed now. Oliva said nothing as she pulled him into a tight hug.

"I abandoned my brother in his time of need, I- I've felt guilty about it this entire time," Scotsman mumbled. "I never… I never told anyone else about this, I'm sorry. Is this… is this why the Cold Oron Sleep kept targeting me? Because of how horrible I was?"

Olivia didn't know what to say. Instead, she just hugged Scotsman as he began mumbling incoherently.

~~~

"The LNER directors have asked for your presence at Doncaster Works, Flying Scotsman," the Stationmaster called to him as he waited at the Station.

"What now?" He asked incredulously. "I'm in the middle of a run to Edinburgh."

"I am aware," the man said sounding frustrated. "They sent Donovan to take your place."

"Donovan," Scotsman said flatly, unimpressed.

Donovan had never done this run before. He would struggle considering his previous history.

"Hello, Mr Flying Scotsman sir! I put myself up for this job sir! I want to be like you, sir!" The excitable voice of Donovan came and Scotsman inwardly groaned.

"Hello, Donovan!" He put on a bright smile to mask his displeasure as the engine came up to meet him excitedly.

Donovan had a very starstruck attitude when it came to his brother. His behaviour was borderline obsessive as the engine often became fanatic in his presence and took every opportunity to speak to him. It often interfered with Scotsman's work which he did not appreciate.

Scotsman glanced at the Stationmaster who looked as equally as unimpressed.

"This is a very difficult line Donovan," Scotsman reminded his younger brother. "It's tiring and it will be hard on you and your crew."

"I know, I know!" His younger brother said excitedly, clearly not listening to him. "I get to pull the Flying Scotsman!"

The Scotsman narrowed his eyes.

"You're not listening to me," he growled but Donovan still ignored him. Scotsman looked over to the Stationmaster whose worry had increased.

"Sir, may I request one of the A4s or my other siblings be put on standby, just in case? I must hold up the reputation of my line," the Flying Scotsman said the Stationmaster nodded.

Scotsman gazed at Donovan.

"My line has a reputation to uphold little brother," he said sternly. "If I hear that you're messing about or up to your usual tricks on my line, I will discipline you myself."

Donovan pouted at him.

"No tricks, I promise," he said with a sulking tone. "Lighten up Scott. You sound like North, the boring, crabby old man. I'm your brother, I'm just as strong as you, chill out."

Scotsman flinched and his eyes widened at Donovan's words. He then glared at Donovan who blushed, realising his mistake.

"I- I didn't mean-" Donovan suddenly stammered.

Flying Scotsman released a blast of steam as he was uncoupled from his train and began to move off with speed, not even granting Donovan another word for fear of snapping at him.

"I'm sorry sir," Donovan said hastily. "I didn't mean to offend you!"

Scotsman ignored him, already speeding away from the station and Donovan cursed angrily at himself.

"Way to go Donovan, you idiot!" He whispered to himself deeply annoyed.

"Donovan, Scotsman's train needs to leave in the next 5 minutes to keep time," the Stationmaster scolded and Donovan squeaked.

"Yes sir, on it sir!"

~~~

Scotsman fumed to himself as he thundered down the line towards Doncaster. He, Polly and Fox oh so hated such alterations to their line. They kept pride in it running smoothly and efficiently. The Flying Scotsman was the pride of the LNER and he was determined to keep it that way.

Putting Donovon on the line would cause delays, he was a social butterfly, he liked to chat to his passengers, and he liked to cruise at a lower speed and enjoy his trains and the scenery.

As much as the engine was a fanatic and an irritant, Scotsman knew Donovan would be devastated if there were complaints and critiques of his run on his line.

Suitable for a branch line or a tourist shuttle but abysmal for a top-of-the-line Express Service.

He would have to deal with it later however as he came into the yards of Doncaster Works where some engines milled about.

Some of them greeted him happily, excited that their famous family member was visiting the works. Others ignored him, going about their business.

Scotsman gave curt and brief greetings as he passed, still fuming about being pulled off his line halfway through. It was undignified.

"You requested my presence, sir?" Scotsman called to one of the directors he saw waiting in front of one of the workshops. "I must voice my displeasure at being pulled off a train in the middle of a run sir. It will cause confusion and delay."

"We are aware Scotsman," the director said, clearly annoyed. "But we have an emergency situation. We were hoping to gain your opinion to resolve the matter."

"I see."

The gates to the works opened and Scotsman saw Great Northern sitting in the middle of the floor looking very unlike his proud, arrogant self.

It confused him. He'd never seen his brother appear so defenceless. Even when Gadwall had died he hadn't much emotion.

"What is this about?" Scotsman asked rolling to a stop before his older brother. North looked up at him with a blank stare.

"Flying Scotsman, I am Edward Thompson, I am the LNER's new chief engineer," a man said as he approached Scotsman.

Instantly, Scotsman did not like this man's attitude. He seemed arrogant and quick to anger, so much unlike Sir Gresley.

"A big role to fill," Scotsman said curtly, staring down at him annoyed. "Are you the reason I was pulled off my train?"

"Yes, I am, I require the opinion of the leader of the A3s. It seems to even try and enforce my designs on this railway," Thompson said bitterly with a glare at the directors behind him. The directors looked fed up and pissed off.

"Our designer always consulted us if we wanted or needed any alterations, we expect the same from his successor," Scotsman told the man coldly.

The man looked insulted. "I do not like engines talking back to me."

"Then you won't last long as our designer then," one of the directors interjected. "Now, since we've so rudely interrupted Flying Scotsman's work for your own ego, Thompson, why don't you get on with what you wanted his opinion on."

Thompson glared at the directors who looked fed up and annoyed.

"I wish to correct some of the design flaws of you designer and standardise engine parts," the man said and instantly Scotsman hissed steam in his face angrily.

"Design flaws!" The Scotsman thundered furiously. "Design Flaws!! How dare you insult our designer! You will not lay a single hand on me!"

"I have a long list of flaws and shortcomings that Gresley's Pacifics have, I wish to correct them and I wish to use Great Northern, not an overhyped flawed engine like you" Thompson shouted back.

The Flying Scotsman's face creased into one of confusion and anger.

"Great Northern is the same as any of his siblings, why him?" He asked, confused. "Why not another?"

"Because the problems start with the first! I wanted that prototype but these fools told me he was sold to another railway!" Thompson said arrogantly. "I will buy him if I am not given Great Northern."

"Gordon is not your toy to play with," Scotsman growled his voice deadly. "Gordon is a good working engine who is loved on his railway."

"I need the first engine to correct!" Thompson insisted. "If it is not this Gordon, then I will use Great Northern!"

Scotsman looked shocked and worried. He looked at Great Northern who was looking equally as furious.

Scotsman turned his attention to glare at the Directors of the LNER who all stood around looking as angry as their engines.

"You're the directors of this railway, stop this madman!" He implored them. "He defiles Gresley's name!"

One of them shook his head.

"I'm sorry but there's nothing we can do, we can't replace him if we fire him right now," he explained, clearly fed up. "If we don't give him Great Northern he'll threaten to offer Sir Topham a price he can't refuse for Gordon."

"Don't you dare allow me to be defiled for that piece of scrap metal," North snarled at Scotsman suddenly. "I am your older brother, not that ghastly piece of garbage."

Scotsman stared at North horrified.

"Gordon is Gresley's most prized Prototype, he is an important part of our history," Scotsman said horrified. "He is the reason you came out as proud and as strong as you did, and yet you still hold this insane grudge against him!"

"He is nothing!" North spat. "Better than the misshapen, ugly engine can be defiled than me!"

Scotsman stared at North in complete and utter shock.

"Great Northern!" One of the directors snapped sternly at North. "We called Scotsman here to prevent you from being tampered with by Thompson, you are not making a case for yourself."

"Let them have Gordon! My other siblings will stand by me! Not this imposter of an engine who protects the weak and helpless!" North said arrogantly. "My other siblings wouldn't dare let me be defiled!"

Scotsman glared at North, furious. He then looked to the directors.

"I refuse to give my blessing to have Gordon defiled by this man!" He said bitterly. "As much as I would hate to see North defiled, I will not object to this man using him."

The Directors cursed and some of them glared at North while Thompon grinned from ear to ear with glee.

Great Northern looked shocked but instantly began glaring at Scotsman.

"You'll regret this little brother! If you thought your siblings bullied you before then you're mistaken! They'll spurn you for what you've done to me!" North bellowed at him.

"I was going to defend you! But then you went and insulted Gordon! It's been decades North! Why can't you leave Gordon alone!" Scotsman shot back angrily. "He was more of a big brother to me in the short time I knew him than you were in a decade!"

Scotsman seethed angrily and rolled towards North, slamming into his buffers hard to make a point. The shouts from the men around them were ignored.

"I'm done trying to be a good brother to you and stick up for you North!" The Scotsman thundered furiously. "You've had enough chances with me! I don't care what happens to you now! Don't you ever, try and ask me for anything again! And if you threaten Gordon again I'll recommend you to be scrapped!"

A stunned silence echoed through the works as North stared at his brother speechless as he backed away, a truly nasty look on his face.

"You're no longer my brother," Scotsman said coldly. "I renounce you. This arrogant little man can do whatever he wishes with you."

Without another word, Scotsman departed and left the Works hissing steam and glaring at North with a hatred he'd never seen before.

North watched him leave, dread growing in his boiler as Thompson gleefully celebrated.

~~~

Scotsman jolted awake with a cough as he was abruptly ripped from his memories. He found the doctor hovering over him as he struggled to pry himself off of the seat he'd been sleeping on.

"Easy! Easy!" The Doctor tried to calm him as Scotsman gathered his bearings and remembered where he was.

"Where?" He sat up and looked around and saw the coach. "Oh, I remember now."

"Your heartrate's a bit fast but no sign of Cold Iron," the Doctor smiled at him.

Scotsman allowed himself to calm and swing himself around to sit on the seat properly. He suddenly noticed that Olivia wasn't the one sitting in the seat opposite, a strange man was.

He looked a bit like Olivia but also resembled a younger-looking Sir Gresley.

"Oh um, hello," Scotsman said shyly with a blush.

The man smiled friendlily at him.

"Hello, the name's Gordon, I'm Olivia's younger brother," the man said with a warm smile. "You're the world-famous Flying Scotsman aren't you?"

Scotsman nodded.

"You look like Sir Gresley," Scotsman said.

"Really now? Sir Nigel the engine says that too," Gordon laughed. "I guess it must be true if 3 people who knew him have said it."

Scotsman nodded. He then suddenly looked confused.

"Three people?"

Gordon nodded.

"North says that about me too."

Scotsman felt the bottom of his stomach drop and dread filled his body.

So it was confirmed.

Great Northern was still alive.

~~~

Chapter Text

"Hello Ms Tornado, what are you doing on a branch line?" Thomas asked as he and Percy watched the big deep blue pacific engine slowly rolling towards them.

She had a glum look on her face and seemed very distracted.

"Ms Tornado?" Percy called to her.

Tornado seemed startled as she looked up and saw the two little tank engines sitting there gazing at her with concern.

"Oh hello," she said, her voice sounding flat and out of energy.

"Are you okay Ms Tornado?" Thomas asked.

"I'm fine I guess," she said quietly.

"You don't sound fine, is something bothering you?" Thomas asked.

"It's just," Tornado said with a deep sigh. "Everyone's keeping secrets from me and I'm fed up with it."

Thomas and Percy glanced at each other.

"Maybe it's to keep you safe?" Thomas suggested and Tornado glared at him.

"I know about Mallard, I know what he's capable of I've dealt with him before," She said coldly stunning Thomas and making Percy look confused.

"Who's Mallard?" Percy asked. "Is he Duck's brother or something?"

"A very nasty engine from the mainland, he's Spencer's younger brother," Thomas explained. "You know that he's here?"

"I'm not stupid," Tornado said, annoyed. "Everyone's trying to keep it secret from me so I don't do something stupid like I did with Green Arrow. But I know Mallard, I know how he works, Sir Nigel taught me how to deal with him."

Thomas looked at Tornado curiously.

"I promised Gordon I wouldn't get involved but I know Arrow's planning something for the opening tomorrow," Thomas said and Tornado rolled her eyes.

"Arrow's my friend but Mallard won't fall for his trick, I know what he's planning, Mallard's more cunning than he realises," Tornado said bitterly. "I don't want Arrow to get hurt."

"Well," Thomas began slyly. "I did promise Gordon not to involve myself with Arrow's plans… he never said anything against making my own with you."

Tornado looked up at the little engine, unsure of his suggestion.

"Mallard is a big engine, he's one of the fastest in the world and he could hurt you, Little Thomas," Tornado warned him. "I don't want another engine to get hurt again."

"Perhaps I could get Henry or James to help," Thomas offered. Tornado just gazed at him sadly.

"I'm not sure, I don't want to get anyone into trouble," she said nervously.

"What about Henry's siblings?" Percy put forward. "They'll be at the opening tomorrow. Maybe they could do something!"

Tornado seemed to brighten up, her eyes widening in realisation.

"Biggin Hill would be perfect!" She said excitedly. "She wouldn't pass down an opportunity to cause drama with one of LNER's most powerful engines!"

"So tell us! What's your plan Ms Tornado! We can help!" Thomas urged and Tornado gave a sly smile.

"Well, I have a few ideas," she smiled. "But first, I'd like to speak to your controller."

"I'll go find him for you Ms Tornado!" Percy piped up wanting to be helpful.

Tornado turned her attention to Thomas who sat patiently waiting for her to explain.

"Arrow's plan revolves around someone distracting Mallard, but he hasn't taken into account that Mallard will have thought of that and have Truro locked down and guarded. He's banking on the Scotsman giving himself up for Truro." Tornado explained, "Mallard won't let Truro go, not unless there's intense pressure."

"So what are you thinking?"

"If I tell you it'll ruin my surprise won't it?" Tornado said slyly and Thomas grinned at her.

~~~

Green Arrow was surprised to find Tornado sitting at the platform outside Ulfstead Castle. From what he understood, Stainer and Sir Robert had tried to discourage the young iron from visiting the castle due to Mallard’s presence.

“What are you doing here Ms Tornado?” He asked as he pulled to a stop beside her.

“Mr Stainer asked me to be apart of the opening, he wanted me to take your place after he said you were busy,” she said and Arrow looked shocked.

“You? But, but, I mean no offence but are you sure you can handle-”

“I can handle Mallard Arrow and I’ve invited a few friends from the mainland too,” she said dismissively. “You worry too much, you know that?”

Green Arrow felt himself blush then looked at his buffers.

“Oh, you know about Mallard then?”

“It’s not hard to figure out, besides my driver said he saw Mallard come through on his way home after work the other day,” Tornado said.

She looked over at Arrow.

“Listen Arrow, I know I’m young and inexperienced but it really hurts when you and Rebecca conspire against me to keep secrets from me,” She said, the hurt obvious in her voice. “You both mean well, but it hurts me Arrow. I feel like you can’t trust me.”

Green Arrow gazed at the bigger engine then smiled at her.

“I’m sorry Tornado,” he said quietly. “I guess I still see you as the young baby engine I befriended a decade ago. I hadn’t realised how much you’d grown.”

Tornado smiled back at him knowingly.

“Well, my stupid actions last year didn’t help I guess,” she said eyeing his boiler guiltly. “But I am trying to do better.”

“That you are,” Arrow remarked. “You’re not as anxious anymore. And you’re becoming more confident.”

“Well, Scotsman helped with that,” Tornado blushed. “You did too. Even if you don’t think so.”

“Ah, I just smooze around and be a pest mostly, nothing really to learn from that,” Arrow said dismissively. He glance up at the Castle looming over them. “Do you know about Truro?”

Tornado’s smile faded and she followed his gaze up to the dark shape in the distance.

“I have a plan to get him out,” Arrow said eagerly but Tornado ignored him.

“You’re not going to save him like that,” Tornado said pointedly. “Mallard will have had the workers lock Truro’s wheels and his controls. Simply going up to him and starting a fight with him while Duck goes around the back to shunt him out isn’t going to work.”

Arrow was shocked.

“How did you-”

“You’re smart Arrow, very smart, but you can be a bit predictable,” Tornado said looking back at the V2 who was now staring at her shocked. “And if I saw through you plan from a mile away then Mallard’s most definitely seen through it.”

“Ah damn,” Arrow looked away from Tornado sheepishly. “I suppose you putting it out there like that does make me a little obvious. So I assume you have a back up?”

“I do indeed,” Tornado grinned.

“Want to let me in on it?”

“Not really no, you might spoil it,” Tornado said teasingly. Green Arrow pouted at her.

“But Ms Tornado, I’m your friend,” he said sulkily. Tornado just laughed at him.

“Yes, but still no,” she said with a smirk. “But I promise you’ll like it.”

“Just, be careful,” Arrow said worriedly. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Tornado smiled at him reassuringly.

“I’ll be extra careful, just for you Arrow,” Tornado said. “Some one needs to make sure that your silly little plans don’t back fire in your face.”

“They’re not silly plans, they’re quite ingenious, if I say so myself,” Arrow said proudly. Tornado just rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“If you say so Mr Arrow,” Tornado smirked at him. “I’ll tell you this though, I think Duck’s going to love it.”

“Is he really?” Arrow said curiously.

~~~

The newest branch of the National Railway Museum was a grand building, with a glass house like entrance, pillars of faux marble and a large open round house like the one at York where Mallard was usually kept.

The massive halls were lined with rolling stock, some coaches and rebuild recreations of long extinct engines and engines of various gauages.

It was pristine, it’s marble floors glossy and shining and the architecture was that of Art Deco, with posters and information plaques and banners having that strange Deco flair.

Mallard stared down at the smaller engine as he shunted City of Truro right into the back corner of the floor.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Truro said calmly as his controls were locked and his wheels clamped to prevent him from moving. “I’m not going to tell you anything about the Gold Dust and I doubt the others will too.”

“Ah yes, but Scotsman has a soft heart,” Mallard said and Truro rolled his eyes.

“You’re really banking on that one variable aren’t you?” Truro sighed. “Scotsman isn’t even here, he’s on the mainland.”

“He’ll come running back once news spreads of the opening gala and he sees you trapped here,” Mallard scoffed.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Truro said calmly. Outwardly he showed no distress, Mallard wasn’t worth such an indignant reaction from him. Inwardly, he was terrified. He knew Mallard was right, Scotsman would drop everything and risk his life to get back to Ulfstead Castle if he saw the clamps and restrains placed on Truro.

“Regardless, Scotsman has to return to Sodor at some stage, his engine is here,” Mallard smirked and Truro narrowed his eyes. “If I destroy his soul, that leaves his engine for the taking.”

“You can’t place your soul in another engine,” Truro scolded him angrily. “Gold Dust doesn’t work like that. You’ll only end up destroying your own soul.”

Mallard gave an indignant huff. “I can wait as long as I need to, Great Western.”

“Didn’t you try and get Scotsman scrapped?” Truro pointed out. “Why would you want to steal his engine if you tried to scrap him?”

“Because for some reason, the humans insist on Scotsman being their golden child,” Mallard snarled venomously. “I know that they’ve pumped him full of Gold Dust more than the average engine. The fact that he can talk to ghosts is proof of that!”

Truro raised and eyebrow at the A4 Pacific.

“Really? You believed that story Green Arrow was going around telling people?” He said amused. “My aren’t you gullible.”

“Then tell me, why can’t Great Northern or Silver Fox talk speak to the dead but Scotsman can?” Mallard asked and Truro froze in shock. “They’ve both been separated from their engines, yet they don’t have even an ounce of power that Scotsman has.”

Truro said nothing and Mallard grinned a malicious grin.

“See, I’m right aren’t I?” he said and Truro glared at him. “Even still in his engine, Scotsman had strange connection to the gold dust, his subconscious was able to control it, interact with it and I will find out why, Great Western.”

Truro stared at Mallard. How the hell did he know about Scotsman’s affinity with Gold Dust? No one was supposed to know about it. Not even Scotsman knew how special he was. It was a secret that Sir Gresley had kept from everyone.

“You think that the Gold Dust is why Scotsman is so popular, so loved by the general public don’t you?” Truro realised and Mallard rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The A4 snapped.

“You’re an idiot, Scotsman is popular because he’s not a conceited selfish brat like you’ve always been,” Truro snapped angrily.

“You’re getting defensive, I am right,” Mallard concluded ignoring Truro’s insult. “The Board tells me that the metal for Scotsman’s next rebuild is going to be fused with Gold Dust. Imagine how much attention that undeserving engine is going to get. I should be getting such a rebuild.”

“Well then,” Truro said, fed up with Mallard. “If you’re so close with the board, why don’t you ask them to give you a ‘golden’ rebuild?”

“Sir Robert controls this Golden Well, Sir Nigel, Hamilton and yourself refuse to allow any engines or people access to the other golden wells,” Mallard pointed out. “Apparently only several engines were granted permission to even receive that knowledge. To the point that they’d wipe the memories of those who found out.”

Truro glared at Mallard.

“I see Sir Nigel’s efforts were wasted on you,” he growled and Mallard smirked.

“Oh he tried to wipe my memories, Great Western, but given the choice, he’d rather save the sad little Great Northern,” Mallard taunted. “I don’t see why really, he’s just a sad pathetic human man with an obsession on his stupid little brother.”

“Great Northern holds much regret for his past actions,” Truro snapped defensively. “How dare you threaten him!”

Mallard snorted.

“What would happen if Scotsman found out that you knew about his brother all along? What would happen if he knew all the secrets you’ve kept from him? That’s doesn’t sound like something a good partner would do,” Mallard said quietly and Truro became furious.

“Shut up! You know nothing about the both of us you horrid engine!” Truro suddenly shouted causing some of the NRM staff to immediately turn and round on them.

“What’s going on here?” He heard Sir Robert call to them and make his way over. He looked at Truro concerned. “Why does Truro have restrains on his wheels and in his cab? These are not called for in a static display.”

One of Mallard’s crew hung out his cab to leer over the Earl.

“Orders from higher up sir,” he said with a nervous glance at Mallard. “Nothing we can do.”

Sir Robert didn’t look at all convinced and frowned at him.

“I will see,” he said with a suspicious glance at Mallard and Truro respectively for stalking off with a pensive look on his face.

Mallard looked back at Truro with a sly smirk. Truro only glared back at him.

“That Green Arrow will be trying to free you today,” Mallard said. “It will be most entertaining to see him fail.”

Truro said nothing as he watched Mallard take his place on the plinth in front of him. Truro was cornered in, no way from any engine to get to Truro without get past Mallard’s enormous bulk.

He honestly didn’t see how he was getting out of this one.

He hoped Scotsman was alright.

~~~

No.4498 Sir Nigel flinched as the doors to his personal sheds were flungs all open, the Gresley family’s servant scurrying about like mice, busying themselves as the late afternoon sun shone down over the estate.

He was silently pulled from his berth by the shunting diesel they kept around as was the little tank engine, Sylvia.

“What’s going on Sir Nigel?” She asked him confused. “It’s a little late for a show and shine.”

“Ah I expect it’s that visitor North was prattling about the other day,” Sir Nigel yawned sleepily. “Though it is a bit rude and last minute I must say, I haven’t even washed down.”

Sylvia grumbled next to him in agreement as the manors owners car arrived. A spotless black Bentley driven by a personal shoffuer.

Sir Nigel inwardly groaned, as loyal as he was to the Gresley family he did not like Roman Gresley. A very arrogant and self absorbed man who did not treat his kids or wife with any respect.

He had married into the family and so Sir Nigel never considered him one of their own. He clearly had married in only for the name and the legacy. Numerous affairs made that exceedingly clear. Jaqueline, his wife had filed for divorce but that man refused to sign the papers.

A truly disgusting manner of a human.

He watched as North stepped out of the car and opened the door for Jaqueline who smiled at him brightly. Roman stayed in the car like the lazy human he was. Sir Nigel was not surprised but he still felt the disgust creep into his boiler.

What a waste of a human being.

“Hello Lady Jaqueline, Hello North!” Sir Nigel greeted the lady and the human engine.

“My Sir Nigel, you look as wonderful as ever,” Jaqueline beamed at him.

“You’re kind, but I have not been washed for the occasion my lady,” Sir Nigel said regretfully. “I am not my best.”

“Nonesense!” She said brightly. “You too Sylivia, what a stunning think you are.”

“Yes ma’am, thank-you ma’am!” The tank engine chirped happily.

“May I ask what the occasion is my Lady?” Sir Nigel asked. “It’s a little late to have visitors, I must say.”

“Ah yes, I apologise for not telling you,” Lady Jaqueline said. “I had to deal with my husbands awful handling of professional situations but I managed to get into contact with the director of the NRM. She and her brother are retuning for a family visit.”

“Ms Olivia and Mr Gordon?!” Sylivia squealed excitedly. “They’re coming here?”

Lady Jaqueline nodded. “Indeed they are. Ms Olivia said that she’s bringing a surprise.”

“Ah her new son I expect,” Sir Nigel smiled. “What a delightful turn of events. Do you know what engine they’re travelling with?”

“She didn’t say,” Lady Jaqueline mused. “But I assume that it’s one from Sodor. That’s where she’s currently living with her family.”

Sir Nigel saw North suddenly go rigid and pale at the mention of Sodor as in the distance the sound of a steam engine eched across the estate.

“My, my, my it sounds like Scotsman!” Sylvia said excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to meet him!”

Sir Nigel frowned. “That’s not right, Scotsman is under going an almost complete rebuild.”

They watched as one of Scotsman’s coached backed into view with a light blue steam locomotive as it’s engine.

“Who is that?” Lady Jaqueline stared at the engine confused. “I thought Scotsman was the only remaining A3 Pacific.”

“This must be the famous Gordon of Sodor,” Sir Nigel grinned widely. “Oh my what surprise Ms Olivia has brought to us!”

He glanced at North who had turned as pale as a sheet as he watched Gordon slow to a stop next to Sir Nigel and Sylvia.

“My goodness hello my good engine!” Sir Nigel greeted him enthusiastically, catching the Sudrian engine off guard. “You must be the brother Scotsman always talks about!”

“I- really? Scotsman talks about me?” Gordon said completely flustered. “I um- I uh- I’m Gordon.”

“I know,” Sir Nigel grinned at him. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you at long last. I am Sir Nigel Gresley.”

“Oh, the engine that Scott always said was the leader of the LNER,” Gordon said. “Yes, Scott speaks about you very highly.”

“He has no need to,” Sir Nigel said dismissively. “How is Scotsman anyway? Not being too much of a menace I hope.”

“Well, um, it’s a little awkward to explain,” Gordon said as he glanced back and saw several people disembarking from Otis.

A tall, muscular man in a long dark green over coat with LNER and the winged emblem of the Flying Scotsman went over to greet Sir Nigel.

“Hello Sir Nigel,” the man smiled at him and Sir Nigel gazed at him shocked before a look of recognition and warmth replaced it.

“Flying Scotsman,” he said and the man grinned a familiar smirk at him.

“The one and only,” the man bowed like a showman and Sir Nigel laughed while Gordon rolled his eyes.

“Stop showing off will you?” Gordon scolded and Scotsman pouted at him.

“I’m just saying hello you ridiculous old fart,” Scotsman waved at him annoyed.

“Old fart? Old Fart!” Gordon thundered angrily.

“Scotsman! Stop teasing your brother!” Olivia voiced shouted at him from the coach as Lady Jaqueline left them to help.

Scotsman gave a annoyed sigh.

“Yes Ms Olivia!” He called back.

Sir Nigel saw North trying to sneak away with her and immediately called out to him.

“North, aren’t you going to say hello to your brothers?” He scolded and North froze as he felt Scotsman’s and Gordon eyes suddenly focus on the back of him intently.

North turned and gazed at the three engines looking at him, Gordon looking confused, Sir Nigel looking extremely annoyed. Scotsman just stared at North with an unreadable blank expression.

For the longest time, North did nothing but stand there feeling completely naked before doing the only thing he felt that he could do, and quickly turned heel and left as fast as he could.

~~~

That night Great Northern was shocked to find one of the new Pacific A4s in one of the berths at the yard. She was in LNER Green and had the Flying Scotsman faceplate sitting over her forehead.

Was Flying Scotsman being replaced?

"Who are you? What are you doing here! Why do you have the Flying Scotsman's plate?" He demanded and the engine squeaked in fright and rolled back into her berth.

Pretty Polly instantly rounded on him.

"This is Silver Fox, she's one of the four new Pacifics!" She said rolling out in front of the engine to shield her from North. "She's here to help Scotsman during the Silver Jubilee. Be nice to her!"

North huffed and glared at her.

"You mean his replacement," North growled. "Letting himself be weak in the face of these new, new, imposters!"

"Another ridiculous notion from your smokebox North?" A voice called from behind him. "The dear thing has no intention of replacing me, stop being paranoid."

As North backed into his berth he saw 4472 waiting patiently for the turntable. North glared at his brother.

"If you become complacent she will," North growled and Scotsman rolled his eyes at him.

"You're ridiculous," he huffed. Scotsman turned his attention towards Silver Fox. "Hello Silver Fox, despite my brother's insistent rudeness, I am happy to have your help. There's so much added traffic due to the Silver Jubilee, Polly and myself have been struggling."

Silver Fox smiled at him.

"I'm glad to help Mr Scotsman sir, I'm just nervous, I'm brand new and I haven't pulled a train before let alone one so famous. I just hope that I don't disappoint you," she said quietly.

"Disappoint Scott? He's the easiest engine to impress!" Polly laughed. "You'll do fine, just make sure that you have coaches and not trucks. Scott likes to trick new engines."

"Polly! You've ruined my surprise!" Scotsman scolded her and Polly just grinned smugly at him.

"No teasing the new engine you menace," Polly scolded him. "Fox is a sweetheart, I won't have you being a complete gremlin to her."

Silver Fox looked confused. "Surprise?"

"Scotsman likes to pull tricks on new engines, especially the little ones," Polly explained. "But if he does it to you, you can come to me and I will deal with him for you."

"You can be such a bore sometimes little sister," Scotsman teased her as he backed into the shed next to her. "Silver Fox is a big girl, she can handle herself."

Pretty Polly ignored him and spoke to Silver Fox instead. "Sweetheart I'll show you the ropes tomorrow so you don't have to deal with this lumbering idiot."

Scotsman wheeshed steam at her in response.

"I'm not an idiot," he argued but was ignored.

"Thank-you Ms Pretty Polly," Silver Fox said with a blush. "You're so nice to me."

"Oh think nothing of it, I just don't want Scotsman to give you the impression that we A3s are a crude and indignant bunch," Polly said with a smile. "And you can just call me Polly sweetie."

"Thank-you Ms Polly."

"I'm not crude or indignant am I little Peony?" Scotsman asked the pilot tank engine in the berth next to him.

Peony just gave a snort of laughter and Scotsman's face morphed into one of pure insult.

"Oh I get it, thanks," he huffed annoyed and reversed back into his berth.

"You're just silly, Mr Scotsman," she said and Scotsman began to sulk. "You're a very silly engine as Ms Polly says. You make the rest of us laugh."

"I'm not silly," he muttered under his breath now sulking deeply. "And I like making the rest of you laugh."

"Enough of this," North snapped angrily and the engines all looked at him. "You're all behaving indignantly."

"We're not the ones who got put on to express freight duty for arguing with passengers," Pretty Polly shot back and Scotsman suddenly rolled forward to rejoin the conversation.

"You did what? North? You of all engines?" He said shocked and North's face became red in embarrassment and anger.

"It was a lapse in judgement," he said through gritted teeth. "It will not happen again."

"Great Northern isn't as high and mighty as he seems!" Polly sneered. "It's about time you got pushed down a peg. I vote for Scotsman taking over as the A3 leader."

"Polly don't, not in front of the new engine," Scotsman warned his sister but she seemed very intent on antagonising North.

"You think someone as unrefined and childish could ever be strong enough to lead our class?" North scoffed. "4472 is still as childish as he was when he was released from the works!"

The Scotsman said nothing, but he was deeply hurt by the words. Polly, seeing the hurt written all over his face, immediately stepped in to defend him.

"Scotsman is one of our finest engines!" She shouted angrily at North eliciting an annoyed groan from Peony and some of the other engines.

Silver Fox just watched, confused and frightened by all the sudden shouting.

"He allows the Great Westerns to demean him! He's allowing this new hideous engine to take his job!" North yelled back furiously.

"How dare you insult our new engine!" Polly snarled. "She's only a few weeks old and you immediately start bullying her? What's wrong with you!"

Silver Fox began to cry which infuriated Polly further.

"Look, you've upset her!" She shouted angrily. "You've upset her like you always upset Scotsman when he was younger!"

"It's not my fault that they have no strength in their boiler!"

Scotsman suddenly gave a loud bellow of steam and began to steam out of the sheds. He didn't steam entirely out however and they watched as he was turned into Silver Fox's berth so he could go up to her.

"Hey there Silver Fox," he said kindly, speaking to her gently as if she was a child which she very much was. "How about you and I go somewhere quieter?"

Silver Fox sniffed before letting out a very small, "Alright."

He was coupled up to her and he pulled her from the sheds and silently the two travelled to Sir Gresley's workshop, Silver Fox occasionally sniffing.

The only engine there was the young Green Arrow who was fast asleep on a hoist.

Scotsman shunted her into a spare berth before quietly moving to sit beside her.

"Are you okay?" He asked her and Silver Fox sniffed.

"What did I do wrong?" She asked, speaking through unshed tears. "I'm sorry my presence caused a fight, I don't know what happened."

"It's not you Silver Fox," Scotsman assured her. "It's Great Northern. He for some reason hates me and I think he's taking it out on you. Polly gets very heated when she defends others. It often doesn't help the situation."

Silver Fox just stared at her buffers miserably.

"Maybe I shouldn't have been put onto your train," she said. "I just wanted to do an important job. When the director offered me the Flying Scotsman I was so happy. But, but I don't think I'm welcome. Maybe one of your siblings should have the job. I look too weird!"

Flying Scotsman gazed at her sadly. It was like himself, a decade ago, always upset after North's nasty remarks about him.

"The Flying Scotsman is myself and Polly's responsibility, not North's. He has no say in how we run our line," he said and Silver Fox gazed at him. "I'll speak to Sir Gresley to have Great Northern transferred away from my sheds, at least for a while, until you get settled."

"You don't have to do that for me," Silver Fox said quickly. "I don't mean to intrude."

"Think nothing of it," Scotsman assured her. "North used to say nasty things to me too. I used to come back to this workshop in tears when I was younger because of the horrible things he would say to me. I think it's time he finally took a break from being with the cool kids."

"Really?" Silver Fox sniffed.

Scotsman smiled at her. "Really."

"Thank-you Mr Flying Scotsman," Silver Fox said.

"It's Scotsman or Scott, Little Fox," Scotsman grinned and Silver Fox looked confused. "You can talk to me or Polly if you ever need help."

"Thank you Mr Scotsman, but I'm bigger than you," she said confused.

"That doesn't matter to me, Little Fox," Scotsman said with a playful smirk.

Silver Fox just pouted at him, forgetting her tears.

The Scotsman of the present smiled at the memory. It was a good one, one of a time when he truly felt a strength within himself and had started to find his confidence.

People relied on his discretion now and a lot of his siblings were tired of Great Northern's iron stronghold.

He was very unhappy that Silver Link or Spencer as he was now had beaten his record. But ultimately he decided to be the bigger person. Same with Pendennis Castle.

The same could not be said for the City of Truro. The second he’d first laid eyes on that engine he’d immediately started a fight with him, calling him a fake and a useless pile of scrap.

The two had been nothing but nasty towards one another in the old days. Scotsman saw him as a false record holder, a liar that threaten his crown. Truro had seen him as a young upstart, a foolish idiot who dared to challenge his supposed record.

Nowadays they couldn't care less. It had been Truro's claim that had saved him from scrapping and for that Scotsman was eternally grateful.

The memory also filled him with sadness. Pretty Polly had been his closest sibling for the longest time. They had run their line together and Silver Fox joining them had only strengthened their bond as they taught their new colleague.

Polly had taken Fox under her wing and treated her like a little sister, defending her from anyone and being so proud of her. Spencer had been so grateful to Polly. He constantly worried about the youngest Silver A4.

Polly would have adored Tornado. She would have been the best big sister she could ever hope for. He could only do the best he could however and try to be the best sibling he could for the young Peppercorn.

For Polly and for Tornado herself.

Scotsman froze as he became aware of a presence near him, also watching the memory.

It didn't feel like a ghost. This time it felt… different.

"Who's there?" He called out.

The presence seemed to flinch violently and move away from him quickly as if it had been caught. It wasn’t the little red engine he sometimes caught watching him. This was something different.

"Huh," the Scotsman frowned as he felt this particular memory fade away.

~~~

Chapter Text

"I thought you'd be up at the castle today Mr Fancy Wheels," James sneered as he came upon Green Arrow sitting in a siding at Edward's station.

"Ms Tornado's taking my place," Arrow said, gazing up at the sky. "It's good for her to be in the public eye again. I don't want her to be in disgrace."

James just snorted.

"Makes a change from you stealing everyone's jobs," James muttered and Arrow glanced at him.

"I don't try to steal jobs," Arrow said earnestly. "It's not my intention to. I apologise if I give off that impression."

James just huffed at him.

"You're just a smaller, weaker version of Gordon and Scotsman. I don't see why an engine like you was preserved," he said snootily and Green Arrow glared at him.

It always rankled him when other engines compared him to the A3 Pacifics or called him a weaker version of them. James had continuously done this and he'd usually mostly ignore the obvious jabs, however, the stress from worrying over Mallard had gotten him to a breaking point.

"At least I don't crash every time I go around a corner," Arrow hissed at the red engine and James looked furious.

"Well, at least my bogey wheels don't derail every other mile!" James fumed and Arrow hissed steam at him in response.

"At least my entire personality is based around the colour of my paint!" Arrow snarled viscously. "And I've seen the way you follow Gordon around like a lost puppy trying to impress and copy him! It's honestly pathetic!"

James' eyes widened in shock and a look of hurt washed across his face immediately making Arrow regret his words.

"I- I'm sorry James that was harsh of me," He apologised. "I didn't mean to be so nasty."

James just glared at him, steam gathering around him in an angry cloud as he released it.

Arrow frowned.

"But that being said, you've been nothing but nasty to me ever since I arrived here," Arrow said. "I haven't done anything to try and antagonise you. Hell, even Gordon treats me with more respect than you do, just what is your problem with me?"

"You think you're a better version of me!" James shouted and Arrow just raised an eyebrow.

"I- no I don't, what are you talking about?" Arrow asked, confused. "I don't think that at all."

"Yes, you do! I've seen the way you looked at me! All snooty and condescending!" James snapped.

"That's was because you did nothing but bully me when I was mute so getting one up on you made it all the sweeter!" Arrow shot back angrily. "You were so horrible to me when I couldn't speak! I couldn't defend myself but you and your friends always found every chance to insult or humiliate me!"

Green Arrow had been shouting louder now, his voice rising and getting even more upset as he began to rile himself up, remembering his first months on Sodor.

"You have no idea the hell all of you put me through! I was so scared and I felt so helpless for months!" He yelled at James who had gone silent. "The only time I got peace was when Edward or Thomas helped me! Why can't you all just leave me alone!"

He was both angry and on the verge of tears as he remembered how unwelcome he had been on Sodor. Months of undealt with emotions bubbling to the surface. He panted and grit his teeth, desperately trying to stop himself from having a meltdown.

James could only sit in silence and feel awkward and be filled with regret.

"What's going on here?" Edward called sternly as he pulled up behind James. "James, you're going to be late with your trucks." He admonished.

James looked away from Arrow and pulled away with his trucks as Edward watched him go completely confused. He glanced over at Green Arrow who was in clear distress.

"Arrow what's wrong?" Edward asked, deeply concerned. "Did James upset you?"

"I- I- no I just…" Arrow stammered before screwing his eyes shut and trying to stop himself from crying. "I don't-"

"It's alright Arrow, I won't judge you for being upset," Edward assured him. "Please tell me what's wrong so I can help."

"I just, I'm so stressed, everything that's happened in the past year… I just, everything came up all at once I don't- I'm sorry-" Arrow stammered quickly. "It wasn't just James, it was… everything everyone did or said. I thought I was over it, but clearly not."

Edward gave Arrow a sympathetic glance.

"I'll give your work to BoCo and Bear and you can have a day off," Edward said kindly. "You're clearly not in any shape to run, dear friend."

Green Arrow looked ready to argue but Edward cut him off.

"No and or buts, I must insist and I won't take no for an answer," Edward said. "I'll ask Henry or Thomas to look after you if they can. You can go to Tidmouth sheds and rest for the rest of the day."

"But the Fat Controller-"

"My driver will phone him and tell him what happened," Edward said with a smile. "You've been through a lot Arrow, you deserve some rest every now and then."

Arrow sniffed as he looked at the old blue engine.

Edward had always been so kind to him since the day he had arrived on Sodor. He'd been so willing to help him, no matter the issue.

He smiled at the blue engine with deep gratitude.

"You've always been so nice to me Edward," he said, his voice quiet and laced with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

Edward smiled at him kindly. "It is my pleasure, Green Arrow. Now off you go."

Edward watched as Green Arrow shuffled off slowly, clearly in no rush. The blue engine frowned as Arrow was out of eyesight and stared down at the track to where James had hurriedly disappeared.

He would have to have a stern chat with the red engine.

~~~

Thomas looked Mallard up and down. He looked just as snooty and arrogant as he last saw him. He remembered him being unpleasant the last he met them, insulted that Green Arrow was chosen over him to pull a special train.

Still, Thomas could at least be nice. Barely visible behind the large blue engine, he saw the City of Truro looking very miserable and downtrodden. He wasn't even responding to people who came up to talk to him which he knew was odd for such a sociable and friendly engine.

"Hello Mallard," Thomas greeted the big engine brightly. "Hello, Truro! It's nice to see old friends from the mainland!"

Mallard just stared down his nose at Thomas before giving a loud 'humph' and looking away from him. Truro at least attempted a small weak smile.

It was hard to see such a grand and famous engine so quiet and meek.

"Hopefully with the museum branch opening up here, we'll get to see more of each other!" Thomas said pushing his happy-go-lucky personality even more. "You know Duck would be delighted to have more Great Westerns on the island, he idolises you City of Truro."

City of Truro's smile widened slightly.

"Thank you Thomas," He said. "Duck is a wonderful little engine, I'm glad to see him doing so well."

Thomas grinned. "He's also hoping that other Great Westerns come and visit, seeing as Henry has all his siblings interested in coming over."

Truro's interest was suddenly perked. His face creased into one of curiosity.

"The LMS Black 5's accepted Henry?"

"Yes! Isn't that great!?" Thomas chirped excitedly. It didn't escape his attention that Mallard was now glaring at him, but he ignored the big A4. "They don't care about him being a Gresley Prototype, they're just happy to have another sibling join their ranks?"

"Utter Rubbish," Mallard seethed. "I knew the LMS had no standards but to accept something so grotesque as a sibling? How utterly preposterous."

"Now Mallard, that's not very nice," Thomas scolded and Mallard glared at him. "Henry is a wonderful engine and a good friend."

Mallard just snorted and muttered, "Ridiculous."

"Tornado says hi, by the way, she's sorry she couldn't visit. She was always turned away at the gate but she didn't know why," Thomas told Truro. "She's doing fine, she and Green Arrow are mending their friendship."

For the first time, Truro broke into a wide grin.

"Ah that is good to hear," Truro said happily. "I'm glad for both of them."

"Green Arrow sends his apologies too," Thomas said and Mallard listened intently. "He's pulling trains today, our railway is a bit lacking engine power with Gordon on the mainland. So he's pulling the express for him."

"How grand, Green Arrow is doing well for himself," Truro said with a side-eye at Mallard who didn't seem to react. "Please pass my greetings and salutations to dear Arrow."

"Such a shame," Mallard said dismissively. "I would've liked to see Arrow myself. I'm sure he'd have a lot to say to me now that his 'silver tongue' is back."

Truro glared at Mallard but Thomas didn't seem to notice or he did and didn't comment on it.

"Oh no he asked me to give you a message to Mr Mallard," Thomas said, surprising both of the famous engines.

"Oh? What did he say?"

"He told me to wish you a happy build day for today!" Thomas said joyfully and Mallard just stared at him confused.

"What?" The A4 said in a flat tone.

"He said Happy Build Day for today," Thomas repeated and Mallard still stared at him dumbfounded.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Mallard hissed and Thomas looked confused.

"I uh, no, all Arrow told me was to wish you a happy build day… is, is that weird or something?"

Mallard now looked furious.

"My build day is the 3rd of March, today is the 24th of February!" Mallard spat angrily.

"Is that uh? Significant somehow?" Thomas asked, confused.

"February 24th is Flying Scotsman's build date," Mallard snarled venomously.

"Oh," Thomas blushed. "Maybe he became confused? Your build dates are very close after all."

"Enough! Go away you horrid little engine!" Mallard hissed. "I will not fall for Arrow's deceptions or antagonising!"

"Arrow? Oh, no wait I got it wrong, Tornado told me to say that," Thomas said with a confused frown. "She must have thought the Flying Scotsman was still up here at the castle. I'm sorry."

Thomas looked sheepish now. "I've been hanging out with Arrow so much that I forgot. I'm truly sorry Mr Mallard."

Mallard just glared down at the little engine, furious.

"Get out of my sight you little pest!" He snarled and Thomas paled and backed away quickly almost backing straight into the Black 5 Biggin Hill nearby who yelled at him.

"That was unnecessary," Truro remarked angrily. "Thomas is a sweet engine. That was cruel!"

"Nothing but an insect!" Mallard snarled and glared at Truro.

"Such a shame," Biggin Hill called out Mallard. "At the very least 4472 would be a welcome celebrity to have at this opening. Such a shame they had to settle for you."

Mallard glared at her.

"The young upstart, Biggin Hill," he growled.

"Young? Please you overhyped turkey, I'm three years older than you," she laughed and Mallard grew angrier still. Thomas’s comments still had him infuriated but the Black 5 before him was enraging him even further.

“Overhyped Turkey!?” He thundered angrily. “I’ll have you know that I am the fastest engine in the world!”

“The fastest steam engine,” Hillsy corrected. “126mph isn’t all that impressive compared to say a Shinkansen or one of those European Trains.”

Mallard looked completely and utterly furious but Hillsy ignored him at turned her attention to Truro.

“What are you doing tucked in the corner back there Great Western? You’re far more significant than this ridiculous bird,” Hillsy smiled sweetly at him.

“It’s fine,” Truro said quietly, his tone suggesting that it was anything but fine.

Biggin Hill turned her attention to Mallard and she grew angry.

“Is this worthless piece of an exhibit holding you here against your will?” She demanded and Truro immediately paled, not knowing what could occur. He didn’t know what Mallard was capable of.

“Ms Hill, please don’t cause a fuss,” he begged her trying to be diplomatic. “There are members of the public around.”

Mallard however grinned. “If you want this little engine back, then bring me Flying Scotsman and I’ll happily release him.”

Hillsy looked between Mallard and Truro, eyebrow raised.

“Or you’ll do what?” She sneered at him.

“Or I’ll sever his soul from his engine and turn him into an exhibit,” Mallard said without flinching. “I’ll do it right now if you want.”

Biggin Hill stared at Mallard shocked before looking at Truro who genuinely looked terrified. She then suddenly noticed the clamps and a strange device in his cab. She didn’t know what it was but frightened her. Something about it was very wrong. She looked back at Mallard who was now calmly watching her, waiting for her response.

“You wouldn’t dare harm such a valuable and famous engine,” she hissed disgusted.

“Ms Hill please, just don’t do anything brash for once,” Truro suddenly begged.

Biggin Hill seemed to realise the gravity of the situation and backed off.

“There you go, what a good girl you are,” Mallard said in a falsely sweet voice.

“The other Great Westerns will not stand for this, you monster,” Biggin Hill snarled.

“Perhaps not, but if they want Truro back, they’ll give me Flying Scotsman, regardless of what it takes,” Mallard grinned at her. “Now go away and be a good girl.”

Biggin Hill gritted her teeth, obviously angered by Mallard’s words but did not want any harm to come to Truro and left without another word.

Mallard just smirked. Truro glared at him.

“You won’t get away with this, even if you rip my soul out, it won’t change the fact that every engine regardless of their railway will turn against you,” Truro spat angrily.

“They won’t if they aren’t sentient,” Mallard said simply.

“What do you mean?” Truro asked.

Mallard said nothing more, leaving Truro staring at him dumbfounded and frightened.

~~~

“He has some device in Truro’s cab,” Biggin Hill told 5025 and Tornado as she returned to them outside the castle. “I don’t know what it does but I do not like it. There’s something very off about it.”

Beside them, Sir Robert, Stainer and the Fat Controller looked at each other very worried.

“What did it look like?” Sir Robert asked and Biggin Hill looked terrified.

“I don’t know, it was small, like a small round canister that had a kind of black goo inside it,” She said shaken.

“Black goo? You mean like this?” Stainer said as he pulled out a photo of a strange metallic object similar to how Hill had described. All the engines flinched at the photo and immediately felt their wheels wobble slightly.

“Yes, yes like that!” Hill said with a wavering tone, “Now make it go away please!”

“What is that sir?” 5025 demanded as Stainer put his phone away. “What is that awful thing?!”

“It was found in Flying Scotsman after they took out part of his cab during his rebuild,” Stainer said deeply concerned. “It’s a lot smaller than the one you were describing. It was only a few inches across but it was enough to cause part of the rebuild team to become ill.”

“That thing was in Scotsman this entire time?” Tornado asked horrified.

“No, it wasn’t,” Stainer said. “We went back and went through all of Scotsman’s plans and rebuilds. It was installed sometime during his 2006 rebuild from what we can gather.”

“Was that, was that what was making him sick? Was that why he was having nightmares?” Tornado asked frightened. “That tiny little thing?”

“Yes,” Sir Robert mused, his expression deep in thought. “It affects Gold Dust, it absorbs it and gains mass. We have no idea where or how Mallard got a hold of this.”

“Mallard’s known about the Gold Dust for 50 years according to what Olivia told me,” Stainer said. “He’s had a lot of time to plan this.”

“But why would he do this? Why is he after Flying Scotsman?” Tornado said confused.

“Because Flying Scotsman is special,” Sir Robert said quietly. “I think Mallard wants it for himself. That or he’s prepared to destroy Scotsman so no one else has it. But if he does… the consequences will be dire.”

The engines, Stainer and the Fat Controller turned to him but Sir Robert did not answer.

“Is this secret Gold Dust knowledge?” 5025 asked and Sir Robert nodded at him.

5025 looked to Biggin Hill.

“Come along sister, let us go find Henry before you head back to the mainland,” 5025 declared but Biggin Hill looked ready to protest.

“But-”

“I’ll have no arguments or I’ll inform Severn to never let you out of their sights again,” 5025 scolded and Biggin Hill began to sulk.

“Yes sir,” she said and the two Black 5’s went off in a huff.

“Sir?” Tornado asked Sir Robert. “What’s going on? Why is Scotsman special?”

There was a very long pause before Sir Robert spoke again.

“Your build brother, the P2 Prince of Wales was completed a year ago,” Sir Robert said gazing up at Tornado. Tornado stared down at him confused.

“A year ago but, why haven’t the trust debuted him?”

Sir Robert sighed and shook his head.

“Because they have been trying and failing for almost a year now to bind a soul to the engine with Gold Dust and every time it has failed. The new Great Western engine, Lady of Legend did not gain sentience until 10 months after she was finished,” he explained grimly. “You, gained sentience after only 2 months which is not abnormal but still quite a long time. Longer than Engines of the past.”

Sir Topham and Stainer looked horrified.

“It’s happening again,” Sir Topham said horrified. “My Grandfather warned me that it was only a matter of time.”

“What do you mean sir? What’s going on?” Tornado squeaked, now frightened.

“The Golden Wells that produce Gold Dust are running dry again,” Sir Robert explained. “We’re running out of Gold Dust.”

~~~

“I’ve asked you not to harass Green Arrow a few times now,” Edward said to James as he found him at Vicarstown yards’ water tower. “Why do you insist on bullying him? He’s making an effort to better himself. Is it because you’re trying to copy Gordon again.”

“No it’s not because of Gordon!” James immediately snapped but saw Edward’s disapproving face and blushed. He sighed and looked away from Edward.

“Then why? Green Arrow didn’t have a meltdown for no reason,” Edward pressed. “It’s very unlike Arrow to be rattled like he was.”

“Because all everyone cares about is Green Arrow, or Gordon, or Henry!” James snapped suddenly catching Edward off guard. “I’m not big! I don’t have famous siblings, all I have going for me now is that I’m red!”

“That’s not true James!” Edward insisted.

“Then why is all my work being giving to Green Arrow or Henry or those new diesels!” James shouted angrily. “For the past few weeks I’ve only had one train per day, some trains I don’t even have any!”

“James…” Edward said concerned. “Are you worried that you’re no longer being useful?”

James looked away from Edward and glared at the tracks in front of him.

“I don’t mean to take it all out on Arrow Edward,” James said quietly. “I’m just… I’m worried that I’m at the end of my usefulness.”

“James,” Edward looked at his closest companion with a sinking feeling in his boiler. “Why, why didn’t you tell me? I thought you could tell me everything.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me Edward,” James said sadly. “You worry about everyone and I know it stresses you out so I didn’t want to burden you with more things.”

Edward looked at James sadly.

“It’s true James, I do worry about everyone, especially these past few years but, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re burdening me,” Edward assured the red engine. “You of all engines are the one I trust most, you know that right?”

James widened his eyes in surprised at looked at Edward.

“Really?”

“Yes James, you are never a burden to me,” Edward assured James. “I love hearing everything about you, good or bad and I’ll do anything to help you. We’ve been through so much together this past century.”

James went as red as his paintwork.

“I guess we have,” James said with a small smile.

Edward returned the smile.

“How about, we talk to the Fat Controller and he can make sure to organise more trains for you?” Edward suggested and James seemed to approve.

“That sounds splendid.”

“Just like you.”

It shouldn’t have been able for James to turn as red as he did at Edward's comment.

~~~

"I think you'll find this shed is for Gresley and Flying Scotsman line engines only," Pretty Polly sneered at Great Northern as he rolled up to the sheds.

"I am a Gresley!" He snapped angrily at his sister. "I am his most important A3!"

"No you aren't, you're one of those ghastly new Thompson engines," Silver Fox hissed.

North glared at the A4 Pacific who glared right back. She was being nasty to him in the same way he had when she first arrived. He looked over and saw the Scotsman hadn't returned.

"Where is Scotsman! I demand to see him!" North shouted.

"He's in Edinburgh and even if he weren't he wouldn't want to deal with an ugly thing like you!" Polly snarled. "We don't like you Thompson's!"

"Yes, you've come here to steal our jobs, haven't you awful engine!" Silver Fox said with a sneer.

North glared at the A4 knowing that she was just parroting his own insults towards her when she had first arrived.

"Don't you give Silver Fox that look," Polly scolded him. "An ugly engine like you should be grateful to even be in her presence."

Great Northern hissed steamed at Polly and glared at her.

"I'm your older brother!" He shouted at her. "I am Great Northern! That is my berth! Let me pass!"

"No, you are a Thompson A1/1, you just have Great Northern's name and piss poor attitude!" Polly snapped at him. "That berth belongs to one of the A4s now. I can’t remember the name but I'm sure it's a bird name."

"Bittern," Silver Fox said. "He was sleeping out in the cold so Silver King asked the Scotsman if he could arrange something. He said he could use it as Great Northern didn't need it anymore."

North looked utterly furious.

"4472, that no-good brother of mine,” He snarled and Polly glared at him angrily.

“If you’d actually treated Scotsman with respect or actually cared about him maybe he would have fought to defend you harder,” She said coldly.

“He sold me out for that ghastly prototype Gordon!” North snarled and Polly humphed at him.

“Considering how you’ve been acting maybe it would’ve been better if Gordon replaced you,” she said. “Gordon’s a really reliable express engine on his little island. He impressed his owner so much that he wanted another one of us but didn’t buy another because of the bullying you initiated on him. He didn’t want drama on his little island.”

“Who’s Gordon?” Silver Fox asked but was ignored.

North glared at Polly.

“Our other siblings will not stand for this!”

“Considering most of them recognise Scotsman as our representative I don’t think you’ll get far. Especially considering the LNER Directors consider Scotsman’s opinion highly valued, unlike you,” Polly said with a sneer. “Now go away or I’ll call the yard manager to evict you.”

North glared at Polly indignantly. He was reluctant to leave but he saw Silver Fox also ready to back up his sister with a venomous stare. He began to steam away with an indignant huff.

“So who’s Gordon?” He heard Fox ask Polly as he departed the yards.

North ignored them and made his way across London. He knew exactly who to turn to and he was sure that they would back him up.

He passed the young A4 engine Bittern who smiled at him and greeted him kindly and with a cheery whistle. North just shot him a nasty glare and wheeshed steam at him.

“Filthy Thompson Engine!” Bittern yelled back at him. North had the mind to backtrack and scold the young engine but thought better of it and raced onwards. He was determined to prove his mouthy younger sister wrong.

He slowed as he came to another yard, this time the berths were mostly filled with A4s and a few A3s who all turned their attention to him as he entered. He hadn’t realised that most of them were glaring at him he was so caught up in his anger.

A large Silver A4 moved to block his way.

“What are you doing here, little Thompson?” The A4 Pacific growled, looking down at him. “This yard is exclusively for Sir Gresley’s Pacific Engines.”

“I am one of Sir Gresley’s engines, Silver King,” he snapped and suddenly laughter erupted from the berths behind the A4. “I am Great Northern. His first Pacific!”

Silver King looked him up and down with an amused smirk.

“Ah you must be the engine that upset my little sister,” he said. “Silver Fox is our precious baby sister you know. We dislike it when she’s upset. If it wasn’t for Flying Scotsman looking after her for us, we’d all think that you A3 Pacifics were an indignant lot.”

North suddenly felt very vulnerable as he saw the other two Silver Jubilee A4s approach him and start sizing him up.

“No one upsets our little sister!” Silver Link snarled coldly at him, her eyes glaring into the back of his boiler. “You have some nerve to show your face to us after making Fox cry and insulting our class!”

“You’d better have a good reason for coming here Great Northern,” Quicksilver added, as she stared at him with a hard glare. “You’re not well-liked here.”

“One of your siblings has taken my berth,” North complained but Silver King just laughed at him.

“That’s Flying Scotsman’s decision not ours. He runs the Flying Scotsman line and he’s doing us a favour,” King said. “Little Bittern is a big fan of Scotsman and there were no more sheds to go around here, so I asked him to put him up until the LNER could figure out a solution.”

“This is undignified! He can’t just hand out sheds that are already occupied!” North snapped and Quicksilver snorted.

“If Scotsman could order you to be rebuilt, then why wouldn’t he be able to organise his sheds as he is so pleased,” She said with a smirk. “Sounds like your luck ran out North.”

“Oh North’s been bullying Scotsman since he was a new engine,” one of the A3s, Colorado, piped up. “I’m surprised it took this long for Scotsman to finally stop taking his awful behaviour.”

“I wasn’t bullying 4472! I was trying to help him! I wanted him to be the best he could be! I wanted him to be stronger!” North angrily snapped trying to defend himself.

Colorado just raised an eyebrow.

“You still won’t even refer to him by his name, just his number,” he observed. “That’s incredibly demeaning. It's been decades North, most of us have moved on."

“Yes, it’s no way to treat a younger sibling,” Quicksilver said backing Colorado up. “You’re the oldest Pacific on the railway, you should have taken responsibility for your young sibling. The way he speaks of you makes it sound like you despised his very existence.”

“You really should know better Great Northern. Why didn’t you see that all your actions were doing more harm than good?” Silver King demanded.

North for the first time in a long while was speechless.

He truly thought that his comments pushed 4472 into becoming a stronger and more powerful engine.

Was he wrong?

Had he just hurt Scotsman to the point that 4472 now felt as if he had always hated him?

“I don’t… I don’t hate 4472- Flying Scotsman,” North mumbled to himself. “I was trying to help him. I wanted to help him.”

“The path to hell is paved with good intentions, as the humans say,” Silver King said with a brief sympathetic smile. “Now, I must ask you to leave as all the sheds here are taken.”

North gazed at the Silver King, and then at his other two siblings. Silver Link looked furious with him while Quicksilver was staring at him with an annoyed look on her face. He very clearly wasn’t welcome here.

Without another word he left the sheds, the eldest three silver jubilee engines glaring into the back of his tender as he did so.

“What a sad, pathetic little engine,” he heard one of them say as he departed. He didn’t know which one, but he was very certain that it was Silver Link.

He slinked off to find a shed, but he could find none.

The A4s and A3s stationed around other yards sneered at him or apologetically told him that their yard was full even when in some cases it was not.

His crew, exhausted for the night and fed up with trying to find a berth for their engine, eventually just left him in a siding with some trucks.

The trucks giggled, jeered and teased him all night, making it almost impossible for him to sleep.

Occasionally a V2 would rocket by with a freight express or a fish train and wake him what little sleep he managed to obtain, a few of them like Green Arrow or Alexandra would laugh at him or tease him when they saw him.

North sighed and stared up at the night sky, exhausted and saddened.

He genuinely thought that he was helping 4472. He had tried to mimic Sir Gresley's tough love and no nonsense attitude towards him.

He'd promised Sir Gresley to protect 4472, even at the cost of his own soul.

Whereas Gordon, himself and Banbury had failed, 4472 had been a success. A desperate attempt to create an engine that could produce more Gold Dust in the wake of the wells starting to dry up.

There was talk that future generations of trains wouldn't have souls. Something that deeply frightened him and his designers. They had said that maybe, 100 years in the future, engines wouldn't even need drivers or the willpower souls gave them.

Just soulless mass produced things.

4472, Banbury and himself had been an attempt to stop that. There hadn't been another success after 4472. That A4 Pacific, 4498 had showed promise, but ultimately failed.

The LNER's Golden Well was running dry. At the very least, 4472's presence made it stable for now.

North sighed sadly to himself and looked at his buffers, He was supposed to protect 4472, not drive him away.

He wondered if the other railways were facing the same problem as he slipped into a restless anxious sleep.

~~~

Chapter Text

Olivia hadn't seen 'Uncle Nathan' at all since she had arrived at her family's estate. Flying Scotsman had been incredibly quiet on the return journey to the manor when questioned only saying that he was extremely tired.

Olivia knew there was more to it but did not press. The Scotsman did look completely exhausted from the long journey. He'd quickly disappeared into the guest room, falling asleep almost instantly.

Thankfully their mother had kept Roman away from them, almost instantly banishing him to the opposite wing of the manor. Olivia did not want anything to do with her father.

She paused outside Uncle Nathan's study. She always remembered coming here to study or hide after her father found her 'trying to do unwoman-like things' such as her vivid interest in locomotives and railways.

Uncle Nathan would always protect her and vouch for her. He would let her tag along to rail tours or to train spot steam engines. Her brothers thought Nathan's hobbies were weird and stupid but she loved them.

She could attribute her love of steam engines to Nathan, seeing how passionate and excited he was about them inspired her. Especially his obsession with Flying Scotsman.

Now in context, it took a depressing turn as she now realised who Nathan or North as Sir Nigel called him truly was.

She knocked on the great oak door to her Uncle’s study. There was a pause before she heard a “come in”.

She opened the door and saw the study that was filled to the ceiling with memorabilia of the LNER’s Pacifics but mostly centred around Flying Scotsman. The collection had gotten a lot bigger since she had last seen it many decades ago.

She even saw a framed newspaper article about her appointment as the NRM’s newest director and articles on the Flying Scotsman being found on Sodor. Her Uncle Nathan had come over and was patiently standing near her, watching her intently.

“You’ve certainly added a lot to it last time I saw it,” she told him and North nodded.

“Yes ma’am, things have certainly been most interesting since you left,” he said quietly.

Olivia turned away from his collection and looked her ‘Uncle Nathan’ up and down.

He wasn’t all that tall, under 6ft at least, his short curly hair and beard were a brilliant red and he had piercing green eyes. He wore a simple black causal suit and was surprisingly buff looking for a elder man in his late 40s.

“You look exactly the same as you did when I was a child,” she smiled and he nodded.

“I think you know the reason for that now,” he said and Olivia smiled at him.

“I do indeed, Great Northern,” she said and North smiled at her slightly. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell me when I was a child seeing how much I followed you around and pestered you about engines.”

“Would you have believed me?” He asked and Olivia shook her head.

“I guess I wouldn’t have,” Olivia gave a soft laugh.

“Congratulations on becoming the National Railway Museum’s director ma’am,” North said with a slight bow. “I am glad they chose such a passionate and skilled engineer.”

“Now, now, you have a lot of credit for that,” Olivia said waving a hand dismissively at him. “You and your wonderful collection. Honestly, the museum’s collection is nothing compared to the amount of information you have. It was kind of a letdown, to be honest.”

Olivia turned to gaze around at the collection again as North cast his eyes down to the floor.

“It’s mostly about 4472, there’s nothing much else aside from several of my sibling's achievements,” North admitted quietly. “I only ever sought out information on 4472- I mean, Flying Scotsman.”

Olivia looked back at North and found him staring at the ground dejected.

“You don’t have a very good relationship with him from what I’ve heard,” she said and North looked away, avoiding her gaze.

“I was terrible to him, I thought I was helping him but in the end, I just hurt him,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t until I was rebuilt that I realised just how cruel I was being.”

Olivia looked at North sadly before glancing at the collection around him.

“Is that why you made this collection? To celebrate him?”

“I should have been proud of him when we were still engines. When the LNER directors said they were going to try and save me and gave me this new body while they tried to save my engine, I thought,” North paused and gazed at his collection. “I thought- It was my way of showing I was proud of him. Even if I couldn’t talk to him, or he didn’t know what really happened to me, I could still be proud.”

Olivia stared at North solemnly as he stared at a photograph of her as a child and Flying Scotsman on one of his rail tours. It was the first time she’d met the Flying Scotsman and she remembered the day so vividly. It was probably one of the events that cemented her absolute love for railway engines.

“Well, you now have a chance to tell him how proud you are of him, he’s here and he has some regrets of his own,” Olivia told North and he looked frightened. “This is a chance that you can’t turn down North.”

“He hates me,” North simply said. “I would hate myself too if I had to deal with the way I acted to him. And besides, today is his build day, I do not want to upset him on such a day. Thank you for coming to see me Lady Olivia but I’m very busy.”

North turned away from Olivia and went back to his desk, completely ignoring her.

“North-” Olivia said but was ignored, North was sitting at his desk, continuing to work on whatever it had been before she had decided to visit him.

“Just, make sure you at least talk to him before we leave, for me? For your little engineer, Olivia?”

North didn’t respond but she could see that his face had softened at her words. He had a big heart for her, having seen her grow up and being more of a father figure to her than her own father.

“I’ll see you later North,” Olivia said with a smile and with one last look at his collection, left.

~~~

“I know you’re pretending to be asleep,” Olivia's brother said as he watched over the Flying Scotsman’s human form curled in a ball in his bed. He was ignored as the human engine did not move in his bed at all.

He did when Gordon gave him a solid whack on the head with a pillow.

“What was that for!?” Scotsman spluttered indignantly.

“Birthday greetings, we used to do it every time our siblings had a birthday,” Gordon smirked at him. “Just be glad that it wasn’t my little brother Griffin. The side of your head would be entirely red if he woke you up.”

Scotsman grumbled and sat up annoyed and glaring at the man who watched him expectantly.

“And why have you decided to wake me up in such a way?” He grumbled annoyed.

“Because I wanted to cook you the best breakfast you’ll ever have in your entire life for your build day,” Gordon said and Scotsman stared at him.

“I- um- thank-you, Gordon?” Scotsman said still confused and annoyed. He found that this stupid human body did not like being woken up so abruptly and so violently. “I’ll only have it if you promise not to do that ever again.”

“Ah damn, you got me there,” Gordon smiled at him. “Well, regardless I still want to make something special for the world-famous Flying Scotsman.”

“Thank you Gor- is there something else I can call you? I’m going to get confused with my own brother otherwise,” Scotsman admitted embarrassed.

“Sure, you can call me Bello,” Gordon grinned and Scotsman glared at him.

“I’m not calling you that, I’m not an idiot,” Scotsman glared at him.

“Fine, fine, Gordy it is,” Gordon huffed waving his hands at him annoyed. “If you come down to eat and my food is cold, I’m going to be livid.”

Scotsman watched as Gordy left the bedroom, pointing at him rudely to which Scotsman rolled his eyes.

He honestly didn’t mind it though, Gordy reminded him of how he liked to tease and poke Gordon all the time. It was very different from being on the receiving end for once.

As Scotsman readied himself he found himself staring out the window at the expansive grounds and over at the engine sheds that sat on the far end of the property.

Gordon had not responded well to the revelation that North was still alive and as a human. Last night he had gone on a complete rant in front of the Gresley family and Sir Nigel until Olivia had managed to calm him.

All the while, Scotsman had stood next to Sir Nigel his mind numb and blank. He didn’t know how to respond or act to the drama. He simply said nothing, exhausted and tired of everything until Gordy had pulled him towards one of the family cars. He'd quickly found the rest of the night a blur, he was exhausted from the journey.

He would have to go and talk to Gordon and Sir Nigel. He glanced at the door to his guest room. He felt his heart raced as he thought of the fact that Great Northern was in the same building somewhere. The last time he had seen him had been that time he had been delayed at Grantham.

He remembered the way Great Northern had spoken to him. Weary, old, broken.

Part of him wanted to confront him, the other half wanted to never see him again.

He pushed his feelings down and straighten his collar, glaring at himself in the mirror, his young-looking face and brilliant green eyes staring back at him. He had been called handsome by a few people, even by some strangers while out with Oscar or Olivia.

Regardless of his desire to return to his engine and be proper once again, he couldn’t help but like the way this form looked.

Even Sir Gresley had told him he was handsome which had certainly boosted his confidence.

He frowned realising something. Sir Gresley had said that he couldn’t communicate with Great Northern because he wasn’t dead. Then how was it possible for Sir Gresley to communicate with him when he wasn’t dead? Something wasn’t adding up.

Was it because of the rebuild Thompson had given him? Or was it because of something else?

Godred had never said anything about Ghosts and called him a delusion fool. And yet Olivia, Stainer and Sir Robert had believed him. The City of Truro had believed him. None of them had even questioned or doubted his words about being able to communicate with ghosts.

He frowned to himself.

Something was going on here. There was something he was missing.

What was wrong with him?

~~~

“I must apologise for my behaviour last night,” Gordon said as he saw the A4 Sir Nigel wearily come to. “It was undignified of me, especially in front of such an important engine as yourself and on the grounds of the Gresley manor.”

The A4 Pacific chuckled to himself warmly.

“No harm done my dear Gordon, I was honestly expecting Scotsman to have that reaction, not yourself,” he said kindly. “And I’m just important in the eyes of British Railways engines, a Sudrian such as yourself need not worry yourself with our customs.”

Gordon gazed at the sleepy-looking A4 before looking at his buffers.

“It was still embarrassing of me to act the way that I did,” he admitted blushing. “I said some very nasty things about Great Northern.”

“Considering how North has acted in the past, I’m honestly not surprised,” Sir Nigel said. “The way he spoke about you was very unkind, although, he does not speak of you that way anymore. He has expressed regret at the way he acted in the past.”

Gordon frowned and didn’t look convinced but Sir Nigel didn’t seem offended.

“How long have you known about North and the whole Gold Dust thing?” Gordon asked curiously.

“Since Sir Nigel Gresley deemed Great Northern as an unworthy guardian of his legacy,” Sir Nigel said. “Great Northern was supposed to watch over the future of the railway but he never reached Sir Gresley’s approval and so the guardianship was given to Silver Link and then passed on to me after it became apparent that my personality and ambition were the same as his.”

“Great Northern failed to reach Sir Gresley’s standards?”

“The old man was a perfectionist, you remember,” Sir Nigel pointed out. “I think North drove himself into the ground trying to please him. He was caught between trying to wrangle Scotsman into what our designer wanted him to be and to let Scotsman be himself I think. North doesn’t talk about it anymore.”

“North was nice to me in the beginning,” Gordon said quietly. “Until Sir Gresley ordered him to not get attached to me and then he started insulting and being nasty towards me.”

“That’s North, he was desperate to please his designer and the LNER directors until he was rebuilt and rejected by his class,” Sir Nigel mused. “He started to give up after his rebuild. It was quite sad to see. Rarely spoke to anyone, and avoided everyone at all costs. My brother took a particular liking to bullying him I recall.”

“I’m very glad I was sold to Sodor,” Gordon said quietly.

“Yes, I believe it saved you from being scrapped my dear Gordon,” Sir Nigel sighed and glanced up at the skylight. “The 60s were absolute hell for locomotives.”

“The Beeching Axe?”

Sir Nigel hissed angrily at the mention of the accused man’s name.

“We don’t say his name on the mainland, Mr Gordon sir,” Sylvia squeaked beside Gordon. “His name invokes pain and terror in us.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset either of you,” Gordon quickly apologised.

Sir Nigel coughed and looked away from Gordon. “Just don’t mention that name to any engines, is all I ask.”

“I’ll be more tactful,” Gordon said. “No more mentions of that horrid man.”

"We'd appreciate that," Sir Nigel said with a forced smile.

"Do you think North and Scotsman will make up?" Sylvia suddenly asked Sir Nigel. "Especially if Scotsman finds North's collection."

"Collection?" Gordon asked, confused.

"North obsessively collects stuff about Flying Scotsman now," Sylvia explained. "It's massive. He's been doing it for over 50 years. Every time Scotsman would go out on tour, North would try and see him."

'But I thought North hated Scotsman!" Gordon spluttered confused.

Sir Nigel sighed.

"North is complicated," he explained. "As I said he was trapped between pleasing our designer and wanting to be a good brother. North took a lot of responsibility for Scotsman. He could never please Sir Gresley and he could never be a good brother. I think that hurt him the most, realising how much his actions hurt Scotsman."

Sir Nigel gazed at Gordon sadly.

"It took Scotsman finally snapping at him and letting Thompson rebuild him and being rejected by all his siblings for him to realise," he explained. "I think the collection is his way of showing how proud he is of your brother. It's his obsession. The only good thing he has left."

Gordon said nothing, he just looked at his buffers sadly.

"Do you think that Scotsman will forgive him if he's asked?" Sir Nigel asked, curious.

Gordon looked over at him before frowning.

"I honestly don't know. I only know about their relationship from what Scott has told me and it wasn't pleasant," Gordon admitted.

"I guess, we'll just have to wait," Sir Nigel said quietly.

~~~

Scotsman found himself poking around the Gresley Manor after Lady Jaqueline and some of her excitable servants had finished bombarding him was questions and presents for his build day.

He was grateful, but celebrating his build day like this was odd and uncomfortable. Oh, how he wished he was back in his engine and not in this squishy thing of a body.

He didn't know how Great Northern had put up with it for so many years.

He paused as he tested the door knob of the door he was trying to open.

Maybe he wanted to find North and confront him right away.

Or maybe, he wanted to find out some of his designer's secrets. Perhaps some answers. Perhaps even something of his brothers and sisters.

Just even a nameplate would be grand. Something that meant that not all of them had been lost to time.

Finding several doors he moved on to the next.

Olivia had told him not to be too nosy but he was a curious and silly thing. Being nosy was Green Arrow's thing, not his.

But this was different. This place had been his designer's residence. He wanted something to remind him of the old man, of the old days, when he had many siblings when things were good.

He found himself growing frustrated and annoyed. There had to be something Sir Gresley had kept of them, just something, anything.

Finding another door locked he didn't realise just how annoyed he was and barged into the next door with his shoulder.

Unfortunately, this door had been open and it gave way with a loud click and he found himself falling into the room with a loud indignant yelp of pain.

He tumbled to the floor and sat there dazed for a moment. He heard footsteps in the distance and his face turned bright red as he realised how much he had embarrassed himself.

He moved to pick himself up but froze as his eyes suddenly caught on the room around him.

It was filled with models of all makes, posters from the LNER, photographs of his engine and even he noticed, a display case with one of his old crank pins.

"What the hell?" He mumbled, confused.

He was suddenly aware of a person that had come up to him but seemed frozen in place as they stared at him.

He tore his eyes away from the collection and looked straight up at the man who Sir Nigel had introduced as North.

Picking himself off the floor with a grunt he straightened himself to his full height. He was a lot taller than North he observed, though North was stocky and muscular with a head of reddish brown hair and a thick beard.

The last time Scotsman had spoken to him had been at Grantham, all those decades ago.

The man before him looked tired, broken, and old. There was no fire in those deep green eyes at all. But North did seem to be nervously waiting for the Scotsman to speak.

Instead of speaking Scotsman ignored the man and gazed around at the collection with a critical eye, North stepping out of his way as he brushed past and watched Scotsman intently.

Scotsman gazed around finding pictures, photos, models and news articles of himself and his history. There were DVDs and VHS tapes of documentaries of his trips to America and Australia.

The sheer volume of the collection was vast, to say the least. Scotsman honestly found it slightly disturbing.

"Such a large collection for someone you showed such dislike towards," Scotsman commented.

If North reacted, Scotsman didn't see it as he was turned away his eyes caught on his old red and gold name plate with several others including Solario's, Doncaster's and surprisingly Great Northern's own.

"I don't… dislike you," North mumbled. "I never disliked you."

"No, no, you just constantly made me feel bad about myself out of love I'm sure," Scotsman sneered. "The first decades of my life feeling so lonely sure made me feel loved."

"It was more complicated than that," North tried to explain. "I wanted to help you."

"Help me?" Scotsman said incredulously. He spun on his heel and rounded on North, towering over the man who cowered before him. "Help me? You did nothing but belittle me. Every time I achieved something great you just dismissed me! Gordon did it too but never to the level you did! You always made me feel worthless!"

North stepped back away from Scotsman and stared at the ground.

"I wanted to be proud of you but Sir Gresley-"

"Enough!" Scotsman snapped angrily. "I don't care what Sir Gresley did or said! You could have decided to be a good brother to me but you didn't!"

"I'm sorry," North said, gazing up at the Scotsman. "I truly am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me, Sir Gresley didn't let me-"

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" Scotsman snapped. "You had a choice and you decided to treat me like you did! I was just like the rest of our siblings! Why couldn't you just lay off of me!?"

"You're not like the rest of our siblings," North said. "You were special. You were far more important than the rest of us."

"Yeah well, I sure didn't feel like it," Scotsman snapped angrily. Realising he was riling himself up he took a breath to calm himself and sighed.

"Whatever this collection thing is, I don't care," Scotsman said, waving a dismissive hand to the collection around him. "It's your thing, it's maybe you trying to ease your consciousness or whatever. But please just stay away from Gordon, your presence upsets him."

North nodded. "I can certainly do that for you."

Scotsman was surprised at North's compliance. North gestured to the collection around them.

"The collection is my way of showing how proud of you I am," He said with a slight smile. "For what my word is worth, I truly am sorry for my past behaviour, Flying Scotsman. If I could make it up to you in any way, I would gladly do so."

Scotsman looked his elder brother up and down with a critical eye before turning away from him and moving to leave without another word.

"I truly am sorry, Flying Scotsman," he heard North say quietly behind him. "I hope one day that you will forgive me."

The Scotsman said nothing, merely leaving the room with a look back at Great Northern and not saying a single word.

North just stood staring into space for the longest time before he eventually walked over and closed the door to his study as quietly as he could.

~~~

"Great Northern!" Sir Gresley called to the young engine. Said engine immediately directed its attention to the designer.

"Yes sir! At your service sir!" The young engine piped up eager to please. Sir Gresley however looked pensive.

Flying Scotsman observed this strange memory. He had no idea how he was seeing North's memories or why but he didn't like it.

"I need your complete and utter reassurance, Great Northern, that nothing of what I am about to show you will ever find its way beyond these doors," Sir Gresley ordered, his tone taking on a seriousness that North had rarely ever heard.

"Yes sir, no one must know sir," North said obediently.

"Good, now follow these tracks into the underground," he ordered and North followed the winding track down deep into the earth. He was frightened about how he would return to the surface as the incline grew steeper and steeper.

Eventually, he stopped before a pair of huge strange doors which slowly slid open as he approached them.

Inside was a huge circular cavernous space with an enormous round well at its centre. It was a huge stone well that was covered by a metal door that was ornate and had bizarre carvings within it.

The Scotsman felt a chill go through his spine as he realised what it was.

It was a golden well, like the one in Ulfstead Castle.

He froze as he saw an empty soulless engine huge hung on a hoist over the well, brand new, the paint on it completely fresh and had the number 4472 written on its buffer beam.

It was his own engine before they had given him his sentience.

"Who is that sir?" North asked, staring up at the soulless engine. "Is this another of my siblings like Banbury?"

"Yes, this will be your newest youngest sibling," Sir Gresley said. "Hopefully this time, you will be able to retain your memories of what happened here."

"What do you mean sir?" North asked concerned.

"This is the fourth time we have tried this," Sir Gresley sounded frustrated. "Hopefully this engine will be able to handle the Gold Dust infusion better."

"Infusion sir? I don't understand," North asked confused. "I've seen other engines come into sentience before sir. You use a small amount of Gold Dust to give them will and consciousness."

"What we did with yourself, Gordon and Banbury were different," Sir Gresley said with a frown. "See the Gold Dust is a limited source. Other railways failed when their wells dried up and their engines could no longer gain sentience."

"Then why are we different?" North asked.

"Because we want to create a sustainable source of Gold Dust," Sir Gresley said. "An engine that will be able to sustain and produce Gold Dust to keep the well full. Gordon, yourself and Banbury failed. But we know that it can work, the Great Western have succeeded with one of their own engines."

North stared up at the Soulless engine of 4472.

"Why are you showing me this?" North asked, unnerved by the shell of 4472 hanging in the air above the well.

"Because if this works, 4472 will require protection," Sir Gresley said. "Even if it costs your own soul."

North stared at Sir Gresley nervously.

"Yes sir," he said.

North frowned, suddenly confused by a sense of deja vu.

"You've told me this before sir," he said and Sir Gresley nodded.

"Yes, I told you the same thing when Banbury was put through this same process," Sir Gresley explained. "It however failed. Banbury did not connect directly to the well and simply became another engine like yourself.”

Great Northern looked nervously at the well as the memories of Banbury coming into sentience flashed across his mind. There was screaming, so much screaming. Great Northern flinched and looked away from the well, the memory disturbing him.

It was so unlike the joyous occasion that a new engine received when its face appeared on its smokebox door. Being infused with the Gold Dust was invasive, terrifying and painful. Extremely painful.

North remembered his very first moments of existence. It had felt like his entire engine was melting in a huge cauldron of molten metal. He didn’t wish that on anyone at all. He still had nightmares about the experience it was so horrible.

Sir Gresley didn’t seem to notice his engine's distress and walked over to the edge of the well where engine 4472 hung silent, cold and still.

“The engine who succeeds I will give them the Flying Scotsman,” Sir Gresley said as he reached out and touched 4472’s buffer.

North looked suddenly angry.

“But sir, you promised me the Flying Scotsman!” He argued and Sir Gresley turned and glared at North. North immediately blushed at his designer's glare.

“I did not mean offence sir.” He quickly stated. “But you promised me the Flying Scotsman Express Service in exchange for passing my performance trials.”

“You performed well Great Northern,” Sir Gresley said curtly. “But it was not good enough. The Gold Dust has a stronger presence in you I will admit, it made me consider you for the role, but it wasn’t enough. I expected more from you as I do all my engines. The engine that becomes infused with the Gold Dust will be held to an even higher standard than you are.”

“Yes sir,” North said, upset. He looked back up at 4472. He wanted to be hopeful for his newest little brother. “I think 4472 will succeed sir. It seems like it will be the best of us, sir.”

Sir Gresley looked back up at 4472’s empty shell. “An engine to last 100 years and beyond that,” he declared. “I expect you to hold 4472 to the highest standard, Great Northern. If 4472 does not perform or behave well, I will hold you accountable for its actions.”

“But sir, 4472 will be his own engine,” North argued but Sir Gresley glared at him. "I am hardly responsible for the actions of another engine. He will have his own thoughts and desires."

“Enough, I will not take any more of your insubordination,” he snapped at the engine who appeared to cower in his designer's presence. “You are responsible for 4472 if he succeeds in this process. I expect you to curb any errant behaviour and give your soul up for him should the need arise.”

Great Northern didn’t look happy but didn’t say anything to argue for himself.

“Yes sir,” he said very reluctantly.

Gresley turned from him and motioned to several of his men working nearby.

"Open the well! Lower 4472 into the well!" He called and the men proceeded to work quickly.

Slowly, the empty shell began to lower as the well was opened.

Almost instantaneously the gold dust gripped onto the engine and began to cover every inch of it, shocking Sir Gresley and the men who flinched at the brightness and shielded their eyes.

"It's working!" Sir Gresley cried out, ignoring the searing heat that the Gold Dust produced. "Never have I seen the Gold Dust take to an engine so eagerly!"

North was straining his eyes to see and forcing himself to not recoil from the sheer amount of energy in the room.

It hurt so much, it felt like the fire in his firebox was consuming his entire being.

"Sir it's working!" One of Sir Gresley's assistants yelled over the roaring noise of the Gold Dust. "The firebox is producing its own gold dust!"

Sir Hresley clapped in glee. "Wonderful! How wonderful!"

Slowly after a time, the maelstrom of Gold Dust subsided and 4472 sat on its hoist quietly, gold dust streaming off of it like sand, a face having appeared on its smokebox door.

Unlike Banbury, who had awoken screaming in pain, 4472 was silent and still, his face peaceful and calm as if he were simply asleep.

"Lower them down! Lower them down!" Sir Gresley called excitedly.

North had never seen the man so joyful as he was right now. He practically danced as 4472 was lowered on the rails in front of Great Northern.

Great Northern stared at the engine as it began to stir and awaken.

A pair of eyes, shining with glowing gold dust, peered back at him. North gasped in amazement.

4472 blinked rapidly and the gold faded and two normal-looking eyes stared back at North, confused and dazed.

"Hello," the new engine greeted Great Northern in front of him.

"Hello," North replied with an awkward smile. "I'm Great Northern."

"Hello Great Northern," 4472 said. "I'm…"

4472 looked confused for a second.

"I am… Lady? No, that's not right," 4472 muttered under his breath. "I'm a big engine not… a small engine. How odd. My memories are… strange."

North looked confused at the new engine, gold dust still shining in its eyes. How could it have memories if it had only existed for a few seconds?

"My dear wonderful engine! My most pleasant greetings!" Sir Gresley greeted his new engine, jumping onto its running board and startling it.

"Where am I? Who are you?" The engine asked, its voice suddenly changed from what it had been a second ago, now sounding more masculine and deep.

The gold dust had disappeared from its eyes and it now seemed to wake from its trance and begin to act frightened and confused.

North stared at the new engine numbly. He then suddenly looked straight at Flying Scotsman's future human form who was watching with fear and confusion.

"Scotsman? How did you get into my memory?"

Almost instantly the veil snapped and Scotsman found himself instantly awake in his bed, trembling violently as his eyes glowed with gold dust.

~~~

The yards of Didcot Railway were silent, save for the little Saddle Tank Trojan who was happily shunting coaches in the yard after the big engines had finished their lines for the day. He heard one of the larger engines roll up behind him and stop to watch him.

He looked over and saw that it was Pendennis Castle who was smiling at him.

“It’s good to see you back on the rails Trojan,” he greeted and Trojan rolled his eyes at him.

“That’s what you all say but you always complain about me getting in your way,” the engine grunted in a Welsh accent as he shunted a line of coaches into a siding.

“I don’t complain about you,” Pendennis said.

“The Twins do,” Trojan huffed.

“Yes well, they are named after Kings so it’s to be expected, you know?” Pendennis pointed out. “They don’t mean any harm. They’re grumpy old men. Especially Number One.”

“Yeah well, they need to get the sticks outta their axles or I’m gonna start complaining to the bossman,” The Saddle Tank grumbled to himself.

“At least Lady treats you well I guess?”

Trojan blushed and didn’t answer. Pendennis smirked.

“The young lass has charmed you I see, how sweet,” Pendennis teased and Trojan snorted.

“Ah can it ya Australian Pest,” Trojan snapped and Pendennis just laughed at that.

Both engines suddenly stopped talking as the sound of a loud steam engine approaching suddenly began to echo across the fields and hills. The engine sounded loud and had a distinct roar to it.

“I thought I was the last one out today,” Trojan said gruffly. “All you big engines don’t work as late as me.”

“Maybe we have a late visitor?” Pendennis suggested, curious.

It was highly unusual to have an engine arrive so late without any warning. It usually only happened if an engine was arriving for an event the next day.

They watched as a huge express engine suddenly appeared through their own smoke with a purposeful stroke of their gear.

“It’s Tornado,” Pendennis frowned and rolled up to meet her with Trojan close behind.

“Ms Tornado? What are you doing here at Didcot?” Pendennis asked as she stopped before them.

“I need your help, PenPen,” Tornado said hurriedly. “And any Great Westerns you can spare.”

“Why? What ever for Young Lass?” Trojan grumbled at her.

“It’s City of Truro, he’s in danger and we haven’t got much time,” Tornado panted as she hissed steam. Clearly, she had stormed her entire way across the mainland to get to them in record time.

“I think you should speak to the Twins,” Trojan said as he and Pendennis glanced at one another worried.

~~~

Chapter Text

King Edward the green and First sized up Tornado with a snooty look while his twin brother, King Edward the blue and Second stared at her curiously.

"You come on to this railway looking that filthy?" The First said the disgust clear in his voice. Tornado huffed at him angrily.

"I don't have time for this, City of Truro is in trouble!" She implored but the First wasn't having it.

"If you think you can come here and talk to a 'Royal Train' covered in filth," he said and Tornado angrily wheeshed steam at him.

"Listen you stuck-up pompous twit!" She snarled harsher than she intended. "Mallard has the City of Truro hostage! He's using Dark Smoke to drain his Gold Dust. If we don't act, Truro is going to die!"

"Dark smoke?" The Second suddenly rolled forward, concern appearing on his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, we're completely sure, 5025 confirmed it when he went to see for himself," Tornado begged. "Please, help me free Truro."

The Second glanced at his twin brother while the First now looked suitably outraged.

"How did an engine even be able to handle Dark Smoke without having its own Gold Dust drained?" The First asked incredulously. "His soul should have been consumed!"

"Er have you met Mallard?" Pendennis piped up. "That Toaster hasn't had a soul for a very long time."

Pendennis looked at Tornado. "Whatever these old fools say, myself and Trojan have your back," he said with a smile to Tornado. Tornado smiled slightly.

"Be good to get into an old tussle," Trojan said with a short laugh. "I love a good fight. Especially with those snotty LNER fools."

"Trojan you just came out of your rebuild," The Second scolded but Trojan gave a humph.

"You young'uns are so scared of getting your paint scratched," the old gruff saddle tank said gruffly. "Maybe do some real work for a change huh?"

The First gave an indignant humph and the Second pursed his lips annoyed.

"Besides," Trojan continued ignoring the Twins. "Lady hasn't met Truro yet. It would be devasting to lose the engine you speak of so highly before she ever got to me him."

"Lady?" Tornado asked her interest suddenly piqued. "You mean Lady of Legend?"

"That's her, the darling princess," The First said with a proud smile.

"You spoil her too much," Pendennis growled annoyed. "She is becoming a princess with the way you two act around her."

"She deserves to be a Princess!" The Second admonished.

"She's becoming a spoilt brat that's not doing any work!" Pendennis argued. "She's becoming an entitled little wretch!"

"Aye, she is," Trojan agreed. "Needs a good day's work to sort her out I say. She's becoming most, unlike a Great Western."

The Twins glanced at each other.

"Perhaps, you are right," The Second admitted with a slight blush.

"Please," Tornado begged. "I know I'm a LNER Legacy engine and have no place to comment on how Great Western's run your rails but Truro helped me. He was like a father to me. I don't want to lose him and I'm sure you don't either. So please, I need your help."

The Two King Edward's glanced at each other and then two the Castle and the Saddle Tank before them.

"Very well, but this is not for you, Peppercorn, this is for our dearest City of Truro," the First decreed and Tornado gave a huge smile of relief.

"Thank you so much!"

"But next time, if you come to our railway again, we expect you to be clean," the First insisted and Tornado heard Pendennis groan and Trojan give a snort in response to King Edward I's request.

Tornado just rolled her eyes and sat patiently as the Great Westerns began to prepare for the long journey to Sodor.

~~~

Spencer huffed as he stopped by the new Museum at Ulfstead. He scoffed at Stephan as he trundled around the castle slowly.

"You're so slow and useless," Spencer said importantly but Stephan didn't look bothered. He was used to Spencer's constant jabs and insults. He just chuckled.

"Oh you streamlined Pacifics all seem to be so self-important," he said. "Engines were never going to be sleek streamlined at the start. Sometimes you gotta start with something a little rough and tumble like me!"

"Yes, yes you're very cute and all," Spencer said dismissively. He looked over at the huge glass walls of the museum. "Still, I say you should still be in there on display."

"Ah but that would be so boring!" Stephan laughed. "Although your brother doesn't seem to mind it. He's barely left the castle since the time he's been here."

Spencer creased his face very confused.

"Brother? Which brother?"

"The big blue one, ah? What was his name, very rude and nasty to everyone? Bittern was the name," Stephan mused.

"Bittern? Bittern is still on the mainland," Spencer said very confusedly. He looked over and squinted, seeing the vague shape of one of his brothers in blue. "And you've met Bittern. He's a friendly, annoying trickster, he isn't one to be nasty, rude and he's not malicious."

"Well, his nameplate said Bittern," Stephan said. "I assumed he was just having an off-season or something."

Spencer frowned as he stared at the engine in the museum. Something was not right here.

"What was his number?" Spencer asked, immediately suspicious.

Stephan frowned. "He didn't have one, it was covered," he said and Spencer began scowling, suspecting someone immediately.

"Well then, I'd very much like to speak to 'Bittern'," Spencer said, not taking his eyes off of the museum's display.

"Okay, I'll go ask Sir Robert," Stephan said suddenly, very confused at Spencer's mood shifting drastically.

It wasn't long before Sir Robert and his assistants appeared.

"What's this I hear about Bittern being shown in the museum?" Spencer asked.

"Ah yes well an engine was sent here from the mainland for the grand opening by the museum," Sir Robert explained

"Well, it's most certainly not Bittern considering I just saw him at Shildon!" Spencer pointed out.

Sir Robert looked pensive and worried.

"The museum is having… issues. It appears that the Board has overruled Ms Olivia and Mr Stainer and is acting as it sees fit."

"You mean as Mallard sees fit," Spencer corrected looking extremely annoyed.

Sir Robert sighed.

"Never have we had to deal with an engine that can influence humans so… greatly," the Earl said distraught.

"What do you mean?"

"Mallard has control over something that affects humans, we don't know how but-"

"Dark Smoke? I remember Sir Gresley mentioning it once, like a by-product of-" Spencer stopped and glanced around seeing members of the public and Stephan looking very confused.

Sir Robert coughed and looked away.

"Yes but anyway, seems Mallard is using it to influence humans to be submissive, hence the Board of the museum acting strangely and against its directors," he explained. "We're keeping Mallard away from the public as we can't get anyone near Mallard without risking them coming under his influence. He's in that glass display because of it."

Spencer frowned. "What about engines sir?"

"Engines seem to be fine so long as they don't have prolonged contact with him," Sir Robert said. His face morphed into one of concern. "Which is very worrying for the City of Truro."

"What do you mean sir?"

Sir Robert gave a nervous glance to the museum and looked incredibly agitated.

"I normally wouldn't request such a thing but… would you be able to check upon Truro? We humans can't even get near Mallard and we fear the worst," Sir Robert whispered leaning closer to the Silver Engine. "Tornado is working on a plan to free him but, the sooner the better."

Spencer sat stunned for a second, staring at the Earl before giving him a hardened look.

"I'll do my best sir! I'll see what my narcissistic, arrogant little brother is doing," Spencer declared.

Sir Robert nodded to the A4 who was now glaring at where Mallard sat.

Upon entering the closed-off section with Mallard and Truro, Spencer immediately felt a cold and dark presence that made the water in his boiler run cold and his frame freeze.

Dark smoke. He remembered the feeling of when Sir Gresley had shown it to Great Northern and himself back when he was Silver Link.

It had been almost 90 years since he's last seen the cursed stuff but he never forgot the sheer terror and cold that it gave.

Mallard sat before him, content, smug and watching his every move.

"Hello my dear eldest brother," Mallard greeted him with a cold and nasty smile. "Did the Earl ask you to tell me to give him his castle back?"

"No he did not," Spencer said coldly, sizing his little brother up. Spencer looked around and saw the famous Great Western, City of Truro unceremoniously shoved behind Mallard. To Spencer's horror, he saw that the wheels of the engine were clamped tightly, his controls locked and a canister of Dark Smoke bound to his cab.

Spencer flinched back in horror when he saw it. The awful thing made him feel sick, even at a distance.

"City of Truro?" Spencer asked peering down at the smaller engine. "Truro you don't look well, what's wrong?"

Normally the Great Western was always alert, proper and most importantly a complete gentleman, even to engines who disrespected him. He was talkative and pleasant, a wonderful engine to be around, static display or not.

The engine tucked away in the corner however was drowsy, incoherent and acting like he was drugged or had an extreme case of boiler ache. He barely noticed Spencer in the room with them and stared at the ground his expression blank and his face deathly pale.

Spencer glared at his younger brother.

"What did you do to him? What is that thing in his cab? What have you done?" He confronted him angrily. "Release Truro this instant!"

"You know, this precious little engine's soul has such a bank of Gold Dust," Mallard grinned. "It's quite remarkable. I wonder if I found the Great Western's 'Golden Child' as it were."

"Golden- how did you know about that?" Spencer hissed under his breath. "Stop draining Truro's soul now!"

"No I don't think I will," Mallard sneered. "And to think, I was going to just use him as bait to draw in Scotsman. Turns out I got lucky and found two Golden Souled engines."

"Stop this! You'll kill him!" Spencer thundered. Seeing Truro so quiet and so ill-looking put dread in his boiler. "You'll put the other Great Westerns at risk!"

"Dearest brother, I do believe that is the point," Mallard grinned. "Ms Olivia can't keep Scotsman from me forever, he'll come to me and I'll drain his soul too. I’ll kill him in that pathetic human form. Then his engine will be free for the taking."

"That's not how Gold Dust works!" Spencer shouted at him. "You can't just leave your engine and take another!"

"And how would you know Silver Link?" Mallard sneered at him, taking Spencer aback. "You failed to impress Sir Gresley and were overlooked in favour of 4498 I seem to recall. Why would a failure like you ever be told knowledge of the Gold Dust?"

Spencer stared at Mallard, shocked, hurt written all over his face. He glared at Mallard.

"Don't bring 4498 into this," Spencer snapped. "Sir Nigel is a good engine, he's the closest we have to our designer right now!"

"It must be embarrassing for you," Mallard pushed with a malicious grin. "Knowing that your younger siblings surpassed you while you and your Silver Siblings got sent for scrap. You're just like that pathetic excuse of an engine, Great Northern!"

Spencer felt like his boiler was about to explode from the numerous feelings in his boiler. Spencer however tried to settle and ease his anger. He managed to calm himself though. Exploding at his brother would not help anything. Especially not Truro.

He bite his lip in an effort to try and calm himself before he gazed over at the helpless City of Truro, who sat in the corner, oblivious and in pain.

It calmed him and refocused his attention on the matter at hand.

"You won't get away with this," Spencer growled. "The Great Western Engines will not take this lightly."

"They can take it up with the empty shell of Mallard then," Mallard said snidely. "Even if some Great Westerns came to save him, I hold control over the golden well at Ulfstead. The wells have dried up on the mainland. Truro won't survive long even if he is freed unless you can find some gold dust."

"You're utterly despicable," Spencer said disgustedly. "I am ashamed to have you as my brother."

Mallard just snorted.

"Good. I wouldn't want to be related to something as pathetic as you anyway," Mallard said venomously. "Something as grand and as important as me shouldn't have to relate to someone as sad and pathetic as you, or that ridiculous Thompson."

Spencer said nothing, afraid to reveal the fate of his friend. North had few friends nowadays, Spencer was in a way, glad to have made up with his cousin, even if it was decades after he had been 'scrapped'.

He was certain that if Mallard knew about North, the blue engine would go after him too.

Spencer just huffed and looked at Truro, who hadn't moved or said anything still in a comatose state. He hadn't even noticed Spencer right in front of him the entire time. He looked back at his brother.

"Merlin would be ashamed of what you've become you know," Was all Spencer said coldly before leaving without another word.

Spencer saw a flash of hurt flash in his younger brother's eyes before the Blue Duck just watched him with a vulgar stare.

~~~

Tornado sat quietly in a siding as the Didcot Great Westerns conferred and prepared. She was tired from a 5-hour non-stop run across the mainland to get here to try and recruit help for Sir Robert and Stainer to try and get back control of the Golden Well and free Truro.

She yawned. Pendennis had told her to take a siding and go and rest for the journey back as she would need it. She was grateful for that. She took a siding under a tree overlooking a small valley where sheep were grazing.

It was cozy. Henry would like this place and she smiled as she thought of him and closed her eyes.

It felt like she had barely closed her eyes when a sudden loud shrill voice disturbed her from her sleep.

"What is this stupid fat engine doing here?" A female voice drawled next to her and Tornado was startled but then immediately grew angry.

"Excuse me?!" She exclaimed startled. "What did you call me?"

"I said that you're stupid and fat!" The engine next to her sneered. Tornado glared at her.

"What are you a child?" Tornado grumbled annoyed. "That's no way to speak to someone you've never met!"

"I'll speak to you however I please thank you very much!" The engine scoffed annoyed, her voice snooty and highly strung. "I'm a very important engine don't you know! I'm the newest build on the mainland!"

"So? Every engine was once a new build," Tornado grunted. She had barely met this engine and already her dislike for them was extremely. "Being new isn't all it's cracked up to be, believe me."

The engine humphed annoyingly and Tornado glared at her.

"Who are you anyway?" The smaller engine asked. "You're bulky and ugly and I don't like your shape!"

"Well if you're just going to insult me then I'm definitely not going to tell you," Tornado said with a death stare down at the engine.

"You're probably not that important anyway," The engine said dismissively. "I'm Lady of Legend, the newest build here. I'm special!"

"You're very arrogant is what you are," Tornado sneered. "Now go away you silly little engine."

Lady gave a humph and looked at Tornado with a pouty face like a child.

"You can't tell me to go away, the King Edward's are the only ones who can do that!" She huffed.

"That is incorrect, little Lady," Pendennis scolded Lady as he pulled up alongside them. "And I remember them telling you not to insult visitors to our railway."

Lady pulled a pouty face and glared at Tornado then looked at Pendennis before giving a reluctant, "yes sir."

"I apologise, Ms Tornado," Pendennis said with an embarrassed smile. "Lady of Legend here needs to be taught some manners it seems. Lady, apologise to Tornado."

Lady humphed and looked away, refusing to apologise. Pendennis frowned.

"Lady," he growled angrily in a tone like a parent talking to a disobedient child. "Do I have to call one of the twins here?"

"Fine!" Lady huffed, annoyed. "I'm sorry!" She said not sounding sorry one bit.

Tornado just frowned at her, saying nothing as the engine trundled away in a cloud of angry steam.

"Who was that?" Tornado asked deeply annoyed.

"That was Lady of Legend," Pendennis explained. "She is the newest engine that was built. Only a few years old."

"She's very rude, I dislike her greatly," Tornado said flatly. "I imagine she doesn't go around the mainline like that."

"She's not been on the mainline, she's only done branch lines around Didcot," Pendennis said. "She needs a good day's work but the Twins coddle her too much. She's become spoilt and arrogant."

Tornado humphed. "I'm glad I wasn't like that."

"No Ms Tornado, you were very much the opposite," Pendennis said with a chuckle. "A very anxious and clumsy engine."

"I wasn't clumsy!" Tornado defended, sounding insulted.

"No, you're right, you still are clumsy," Pendennis laughed and Tornado hissed steam at him in response.

"You're worse than Scotsman!" She pouted and Pendennis' laughter died down. His expression turned to one of sadness.

"There's a rumour on the mainland," Pendennis began nervously. "About Flying Scotsman… being gone."

Tornado didn't know what to say. Pendennis was a friend of Scotsman's as much as he was a rival.

“I can’t say much, I’m sorry,” Tornado said regretfully. “I want to tell you what’s going on, but I can’t.”

“Ah, I see,” Pendennis said looking dejected. “Gold Dust matters tend to be like that. I hope that Scotsman is well.”

Tornado looked away quietly. PenPen seemed to recognise her distress.

“It distresses you,” he said and Tornado sighed.

“I said some unkind things. That I wouldn’t accept what was happening to Scotsman,” Tornado said guiltily. “I hurt Scotsman, I didn’t mean to, I wanted to apologise but then all this happened and I never got the chance. What if something happens to him? What if I never get the chance to say I’m sorry?”

Pendennis gazed at Tornado sadly before giving her a comforting smile.

“Tornado, we all have regrets that we wished we acted upon,” he reassured her. “Let’s concentrate on saving Truro first. One thing at a time, okay?”

Tornado looked at her old friend and gave him a small smile.

“Okay PenPen,” she said and Pendennis beamed at her.

“You’ve grown up a lot since we first met that night you know? You’ve become incredibly capable of yourself,” Pendennis said appraisingly. “The engine I first met would have never have raced across the mainland by herself like you just did.”

Tornado blushed brightly and gave him a shy smile.

“I’m just doing my best,” Tornado said.

“Aren’t we all?”

~~~

Henry found Green Arrow with his tender sticking out of Tidmouth sheds as he came back from pulling his latest goods train. He was supposed to take another out but his eldest brother 5025 had eagerly requested to pull it instead.

It had been years since the great LMS Black 5 had done ‘actual work’ as he said. Pulling passengers was could and all but the trains never tested him anymore. He wanted a challenge and Henry, not wanting to disappoint his eldest brother gave it to him.

5025 had been so pleased to be pulling a ‘proper’ train again and despite his age, he’d most certainly impressed the other Sudrian engines and his own crew.

It was what he was made for as he said happily. His enthusiasm rubbed off on Henry who was so used to being mocked by Gordon’s insistence on only pulling the express.

He was an engine of strength and power, his rebuild had made him one of the strongest engines on the island and Henry should be proud of that, 5025 had told him.

He stared at Green Arrow for a few moments. He wasn’t Arrow’s friend but he could see that something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” Henry asked as he rolled in beside the smaller Gresley.

Arrow avoided Henry’s eyesight and looked sheepish.

“I just argued with James, that’s all,” he admitted. “Edward’s covering for me.”

“That’s nice of Edward,” Henry said with a smile. “What was the argument about, are you okay now?”

“I guess,” Arrow said with a depressed sigh. “It was just about how everyone was so nasty to me when I first came here.”

Henry immediately felt guilt for his part in bullying Green Arrow. He also hadn’t exactly been that nice to Arrow in the beginning.

“I guess I should apologise for my part in that,” Henry admitted. “I wasn’t exactly nice to you either.”

“Yeah, you weren’t,” Arrow looked at Henry and saw that he looked somewhat ashamed. “You stopped over time though I noticed.”

“Yes well, you eased a lot of stress off of me with the number of jobs you took on,” Henry said. “I was so overwhelmed before you came here, having you around was kind of a blessing. I guess I stopped insulting you and just ignored you because I appreciated your help.”

“The silent treatment still hurt,” Arrow said. “Especially from a Black 5, I always admired the Black 5’s strength when I was younger, same with my cousins the P2s. They could do things I could only dream of doing. I never told anyone though. The LMS and LNER rivalry was cutthroat back in the day.”

“Really? You admired me?” Henry asked confused and Green Arrow gave him a slight smile.

“Yeah,” he said with a slight blush. “It’s awkward of me to admit that. I like watching you work Henry.”

“So that’s why I keep finding you on sidings along my routes,” Henry realised. “I thought you were just being a creep.”

Green Arrow turned red in embarrassment.

“Oh, I never thought I came off as creepy,” he said embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Henry said with a slight laugh. “I just always found it odd. I’m flattered. No one’s ever really admired me. I was always the sick or anxious engine to the others.”

“Well, I don’t see you that way,” Arrow smiled, his mood seemed to brighten now.

Henry looked at the smaller engine.

“You know, Gordon always complains about you constantly saying that you’re just as strong as him despite your size,” He said.

“Oh I know,” Green Arrow said with a huff. “He says it to my face constantly too.”

“Well, I’d like to test your claim one day if you’re up to it,” Henry smirked. “Why don’t you pull a heavy train with me at some time?”

Green Arrow’s eyes light up, his previous depressive state nowhere in sight.

“Oh yes please,” he said eagerly. “I’d very much like to prove Gordon wrong.”

“You and me both Arrow.”

~~~

"You Thompson! Get out of my sight, you filthy eye sore!" A loud boisterous voice bellowed at Great Northern.

North looked up from his trucks to see a large blue A4 Pacific with the nameplate, Mallard, riveted to his side.

"I'm working here," North said gruffly before returning to shunting the trucks for one of the V2's express freight trains. "You don't like it then go away."

"Don't you dare talk back to me you ugly unrefined thing!" The Engine, Mallard hissed at him. "I am one of Gresley's most important engines and you're just a-"

The A4 Pacific paused as he suddenly read the nameplate North had on. A cruel and mocking laugh suddenly erupted from Mallard.

"The legendary Great Northern, shunting trucks," he laughed and North grit his teeth and ignored him. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen!"

North continued to ignore the mocking of Mallard. He was used to it by now, the constant and unending insults and jabs of the other Gresley Pacifics.

"Look at you, a horrendous and disgusting piece of scrap metal," Mallard jeered. "What a sad pathetic thing you are, even more so than the Flying Scotsman."

North sighed as the trucks also began laughing at him, finding Mallard's taunts funny.

"The big old express engine North!"

"There he goes back and forth!"

"Shunting carriages and trunks!"

"Now he's not worth a few bucks!"

"SHUT UP!" Great Northern roared suddenly slamming into the consist of trucks with such force and speed that they derailed with a shriek.

Mallard watched on with an amused smirk.

"Dear me," the A4 Pacific said with a tut. "Such a grumpy old man, they really should put you out of your misery Thompson!"

North just glared at Mallard as the trucks giggled and laughed. He reversed out of the way as the yard manager and the railway workers swamped over the tracks to check the derailed trucks.

Mallard followed him, a smirk on his face. Great Northern just glared at him.

“Are you having fun spending time with the little tank engines dearest North?” Mallard teased. “I can’t imagine how they must feel sharing a shed with such a large monster.”

“Just… leave me alone,” North growled angrily at Mallard.

“I should tell Scotsman how pathetic you are next time I see him,” the Blue engine jabbed and North rolled his eyes.

“Don’t bother, he already knows,” North spat angrily. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be Mallard?”

“I fear not,” Mallard grinned. “Since I became the fastest engine in the world, the directors no longer want to risk any damage coming to their prized engine.”

North rolled his eyes annoyed. The young bluebird had been a narcissistic buffoon well before his speed record, now it was intolerable.

“I can’t say the same for Flying Scotsman,” Mallard said with a malicious grin. “British Railways announced that they’re going to scrap him while I am to be preserved.”

Great Northern’s eyes widen in horror.

“They’re what?” he choked out horrified.

“Just wanted to let you know myself,” Mallard said gleefully. “Some loons are trying to save him but I doubt it’ll work.”

North barely heard Mallard as he spoke, dread settling in his boiler. Why would they scrap such a famous engine? If Scotsman was on the table for scrapping then… then what hope did that give the rest of them?

“You’ll be next I suspect North,” Mallard said dismissively. “About time too I’d say. Surprised you weren’t put on the chopping before him. You haven’t been useful since the Peppercorns came into service.”

“Mallard!” A loud voice called out across the yard and they both looked over to see another A4 Pacific coming towards them looking very annoyed and angry. “What have I told you about antagonising other engines!”

Mallard seemed to shrink and cower at the presence of the new engine. He seemed to bite his lip and move away from it without another word.

Mallard gave North a cynical smirk before hurrying away, the other A4 staring at him with a disapproving gaze.

North simply stared at the track before him dejected and lost.

The newest arrival rolled up and stopped before North, a look of concern on his face.

“Great Northern? Is that you old friend?” The engine asked and North looked up to see Sir Nigel Gresley gazing at him with deep concern.

“Sir Nigel,” he croaked out weakly. “Is it true? Is 4472 up for scrap?”

Sir Nigel’s face fell and his eyes closed with a sad sigh.

“It unfortunately is, I’m sorry,” Sir Nigel confirmed and North felt his eyes burn.

“I was supposed to protect him,” North said quietly. “I promised Sir Gresley I would protect him. That I’d give my soul to save his.”

“There is a movement to Save Scotsman and it’s looking promising, a lot of people want to save him,” Sir Nigel assured the saddened engine. “I think it will succeed. The man behind it is extremely passionate and rich. There’s even talk of giving him a second tender if he’s saved. I think he’s aware of just how special Scotsman is.”

North barely heard Sir Nigel, his thoughts awash with dread and fear.

“Sir Nigel, if 4472 is at risk then… then what hope does that give the rest of us,” North asked the A4 Pacific. “Are we all meant for the scrapyard?”

Sir Nigel just stared at North dejected for a second before he looked up at the cloudy sky.

“I sincerely hope not, dear friend,” Sir Nigel said quietly. “But I must admit, things are looking quite grim. Especially if we lose our main source of Gold Dust.”

“Sir Gresley’s fears for the future will come true then,” North said shakily. “A world of soulless mass-produced monstrosities.”

“Don’t give up hope just yet,” Sir Nigel said trying to reassure North although, he could see a deep worry in the A4’s weary eyes. “Time will tell.”

North said nothing. He just stared at the ground feeling completely and utterly hopeless.

~~~

Chapter Text

14 - Little Gresley

James found Green Arrow working on the Little Western with Duck and Oliver in the afternoon. Normally they would have requested Donald and Douglas but the two were at Barrow-in-Furness the entire day and so Arrow had gone up to help his little Great Western friends.

Oliver was still a bit wary of the bigger engine but Duck's ease around him made him feel a lot better. Green Arrow himself didn't seem at all bothered by Oliver's hesitance, instead he ignored it and helped the small engine happily, even being pleasant to Toad.

"Hello, Mr James!" Toad greeted the red engine. "Don't see you up here that often."

James didn't reply, looking nervously at the bigger V2 engine who was sitting with Duck as the humans busied themselves around them.

Green Arrow was watching him patiently. Arrow knew that Edward had most probably told him to find him and apologise and so he waited.

James approached Green Arrow nervously.

"Hello James," Arrow greeted the engine warmly. "I apologise for my behaviour yesterday. It was rude of me."

"Funny, because I came here to apologise to you," James admitted. "I'm sorry for constantly bullying you and calling you names."

"Apology accepted James," Arrow smiled. "Just stop comparing me to Gordon all the time, it does hurt my feelings."

"Alright," James said. "I'll do my best, not to. I might slip now and again though."

Arrow just smiled at him.

"I wasn't stealing your jobs James, I just did the work the Fat Controller gave me," Arrow said.

"I know, I guess I just felt threatened," James said with a sigh. "I haven't been getting as many jobs as I used to."

"That's unfortunate," Arrow said. "Maybe ask the Fat Controller to give you some more?"

"I'm going to," James said. "I still don't like you, Green Arrow."

"Understandable," Green Arrow said, surprisingly accepting. "There's a huge club of engines who dislike me."

James didn't know how to respond to that. He looked over and saw Duck watching the interaction.

"You've made other friends at least," James commented and Duck smiled.

"Despite being of LNER stock, Arrow here has the firebox of a Great Western!" Duck said proudly.

Green Arrow just blushed.

"Well, Truro says that too so I guess there must be some truth to it," Arrow said.

Arrow and Duck suddenly glanced at each other and suddenly became very quiet and nervous. James frowned but said nothing.

Duck had been spending a lot of time with the Arrow and didn't care for whatever it was the two green engines were doing.

"Where's Tornado?" James asked and once again the two engines glanced at each other.

"She's on the mainland doing business," Arrow said smoothly and cooly. James couldn't tell if the bigger engine was lying or not.

"Now? With Gordon on the Mainland?" James asked incredulously.

"She's a famous engine James," Duck said. "She can't always be around to steal attention from you."

James huffed and pouted at Duck before steaming off. He did try to smile at Green Arrow before he left however but it came off as incredibly awkward and he hurried away even faster.

Duck and Arrow watched him leave before Duck turned to gaze at Arrow.

“Any word from Tornado?” He asked. He knew Oliver was there but he could rely on his confidentiality in such matters. As was the Great Western Way.

“It’s taking a while for her to organise the engines she needs to assist, but then again the Royal Twins were always a snooty bunch,” Arrow said with a huff.

Duck suddenly went bright red and made a funny noise that sounded like both a choke and a sneeze.

“The King Edward’s?” He spluttered in shock. “She’s called in the Great Western Kings?”

“Come on now Duck, don’t go all fanatical on me now,” Green Arrow rolled his eyes. “It’s bad enough when you gush about Truro.”

“I know, I know I apologise,” Duck said his face still bright red. “But the King Class is very famous among us Great Westerns, especially the twins. They’re royalty in their own right.”

“Royal pains in the ass,” Arrow muttered. “You’ll change your tune once you meet them. They’re very nitpicky and like nothing more than looking down on everyone else as ‘peasant classes.”

Duck glared at Arrow but said nothing.

He hoped that Arrow was wrong about the engines he looked up to, but with how even Truro occasionally spoke of them off handily, he somehow knew that what the LNER V2 was saying was true.

“Speaking of fanatical,” Arrow suddenly said as he heard the sound of a diesel coming towards them.

Duck stared up ahead as the D7101 or ‘Bear’ as he had come to be known, came into view and approached them. He had a look of wonder on his face as he saw the steam engines.

“Hello!” He said excitedly looking at Oliver, Duck and Green Arrow.

“Um, hello?” Oliver asked confused by the diesel's excitement. “What are you so excited about?”

“Oh I’m sorry, Sir Topham did say to turn down my fanatical side as some engines don’t like it,” Bear said guiltily. “But I so rarely got to see steam engines where I worked on the mainland, coming to Sodor and seeing so many is just amazing!”

Duck chuckled. “We’re very glad that we could amaze you, uh Bear was it?”

“Yes! People call me Bear because of the sound of my generator,” Bear said and Oliver gave a thoughtful look.

“It really does, that’s kinda cool,” he said and Bear blushed. The Diesel then looked over to Green Arrow and his eyes suddenly widened.

“You’re Green Arrow! I shunted some trucks for you once on the mainland!” He said excitedly. “I was sad I didn’t get to talk to you then, the yard manager yelled at me for trying to abandon my job to get a better look at you. It’s nice to finally meet you in person sir!”

Green Arrow blushed pink and gave an embarrassed smile.

“Never thought I’d be complimented by a diesel but thank you!” Arrow smiled at the excitable diesel.

“What you be doing up here though Bear?” Duck asked curiously. “Green Arrow by himself is strong enough to stand in for both Donald and Douglas.”

“Sir Topham, he sent me and Emily to assist you as he wanted Green Arrow to return to Knapford Station,” Bear answered.

“Did he say why?” Arrow asked raising an eyebrow.

“No, he just said to get back as quickly as you can,” Bear said. Arrow and Duck exchanged a glance at each other.

“Hopefully it’s nothing too serious,” Duck said and Arrow said nothing, instead he chewed his lip anxiously.

~~~

“Hello dear Scotsman,” Sir Nigel greeted the man as he entered the sheds. “Are you doing well?”

Scotsman shrugged and drew his jacket around his shoulders tighter. “I wouldn’t say well, merely coping.”

Gordon looked at his brother worried.

“Is something wrong Scott? Has something happened? Is it Great Northern?” Gordon bombarded him with questions and Scotsman waved him down. He then turned his attention back to Sir Nigel.

“Did you always know about myself being a source of Gold Dust, 4498?” He asked and Sir Nigel simply stared at him calmly. “Did you always know Sir Gresley’s plans for me?”

Gordon’s eyes widened in shock and he spluttered incredulously at Scotsman’s questions but he was ignored as Scotsman focused on the A4 Pacific before him. Sir Nigel gazed back at him his expression calm.

“Not always, but Great Northern knew,” He explained. “He promised Sir Gresley himself to protect you.”

“I know, I saw,” Scotsman said quietly.

“You saw?” Sir Nigel asked confused.

“I keep seeing my old memories and I keep seeing into North’s memories,” Scotsman said nervously. “Was it because he was present when my soul was bonded to my engine?”

“I am… unsure,” Sir Nigel mused confused. “I’ve never heard anything like this before. I am aware of the workings of Gold Dust but not something like this.”

Scotsman frowned and gazed down at the ground frustrated.

"I just… I want to know what's going on! Why do I keep seeing ghosts and other people's memories! Why was this kept from me for so long!? Has everyone been lying to me this entire time?" Scotsman began shouting angrily.

He clutched at his head and gave a small whine of pain.

"I don't know who I am anymore," he whimpered, starting to curl into a ball on the ground.

Sir Nigel stared down at him unsure what to say. He wanted to comfort his confused cousin but he just didn't know what to say.

"You're my brother," Gordon declared. Scotsman turned his head and gazed over at Gordon who was watching him carefully. "You will always be my brother, regardless of anything else or what form you take. I don't care about whatever this Gold Dust nonsense is, you are my brother and I will always love you."

Scotsman sniffed and remained still for a few long seconds before looking up at Gordon, tears staining his face.

Slowly he made his way over and climbed onto his brother's running board. He sat down and leaned against the smokebox, feeling comforted by his brother.

"Thank you, Gordon," he mumbled to his brother and Gordon smiled.

For a long while, Sir Nigel, Gordon, Scotsman and Sylvia sat in silence, the air slowly calming after Scotsman's outburst.

"I'm sorry I got angry I'm just… so confused," Scotsman finally mumbled.

"That's completely understandable," Sir Nigel smiled kindly. "I'll answer any questions as best as I can but Great Northern knows a lot more than myself."

The Scotsman scowled. "I'd rather not talk to him," he said.

"Then I'll tell you what I know," Sir Nigel said. "It's not much but I'll try."

"Is there anyone else like myself?"

"A few exist on different railways, Your partner Truro is one actually," Sir Nigel said and Scotsman looked surprised. "Duchess of Loughborough and a few others are out there too."

"Truro?"

"Yes, he also didn't know for the longest time but eventually I believe the Twin Kings told him," Sir Nigel said. "Truro told me that he suspects you are one too but he never revealed it to you because he was never sure."

Scotsman stared dumbfounded.

"Truro, is like me?" He repeated flabbergasted. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"He probably thought you wouldn't have believed him," Sir Nigel smiled. "Don't take it personally, Scotsman, Gold Dust is a highly sensitive topic, even between the closest of us."

The Scotsman looked thoughtful for a second.

"Why keep it a secret from us?" He asked. "Why not tell us so we may be able to use it appropriately."

Sir Nigel frowned and glared for a second.

"So you don't become like Mallard," he said coldly.

"Mallard?" Scotsman asked confused. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"Well, for one, so you didn't become a narcissistic monster as he did when he become one," Sir Nigel growled. "And two, so that Mallard didn't know who to look for."

"What do you mean?"

Sir Nigel sighed and closed his eyes.

"Gold Dust, like the burning flame that keeps our engines running, has a shadow," he explained. "A very dark and nasty shadow, like the smoke that billows from our chimney. The more gold dust that was used, the more a dark byproduct was produced that began to stain the golden wells."

"Dark Smoke, it's not a gas or a liquid but it looks and acts like both," Sylvia squeaked. "It's terrifying and it can destroy our souls or severs them from our engines, Mr Scotsman!"

"I- I-" Scotsman suddenly shuddered as he remembered the nightmares, the feeling of the cold iron sleep slowly creeping into his boiler for the past several years. "I think I've felt it, my nightmares, the cold iron sleep."

"Yes, it's responsible for the cold iron sleep and humans can sense it too. They'll avoid an engine infected with Cold Iron even if they don't quite understand why," Sir Nigel said grimly. "It was responsible for destroying the souls of sone engines who were sent for scrap long before the cutter torch even touched them."

Scotsman began trembling and Gordon looked aghast and terrified of what was being told. Sylvia had gone back into her birth and looked as pale as a sheet.

"But what does Mallard have to do with this?" Scotsman eventually asked.

"After his record, Mallard became boisterous and increasingly nasty. British Railways wanted to preserve him as he is the fastest Steam Locomotive in the world but they greatly disapproved of his attitude," Sir Nigel said. "And so, they stuck hin on a plinth and waited until Cold Iron Sleep took him."

"But it never did-" Scotsman realised what Sir Nigel was insinuating.

"No, it didn't. He produced the Gold Dust like you so it was hard to quell his soul. Mallard's willpower was far too strong for it to take hold and so-"

"They used black smoke to artificially preserve him and sever his soul from his engine," Scotsman finished his sentence.

Sir Nigel grunted disapproval.

"Mark my words, I did not approve of this when it happened. Regardless of how nasty or how much of a problem he has been, Mallard is still my little brother," Sir Nigel ground out. "All of his brothers and sisters were against this, even North was. But still, they did it anyway."

"But it failed," Scotsman said and Sir Nigel gave a deep sigh.

"Mallard's gold dust was replaced with Dark Smoke," Sir Nigel said shakily. "We didn't notice it at first but now… these past two decades, Mallard's presence has become more insidious. He's after Gold Dust, he craves it like some kind of drug, as the humans say."

"Is that… is that why he was after me, trying to get me scrapped?" Scotsman asked, frightened. "Because he wanted to consume my soul like some kind of demon?"

"Yes," Sir Nigel said regretfully. "North thinks that because his gold dust was stained and tainted Mallard now desperately wants his soul back and he's draining engines of their gold dust in an attempt to gain it back."

"Other engines? You mean he's stolen Gold Dust before?" Gordon asked horrified.

"At first it was a few of the coaches near his plinth," Sir Nigel said. "Then the Rocket replica. It wasn't until Lady Hamilton started to show signs of Cold Iron that they realised what was going on. Mallard was moved into that special room away from the other engines."

"Until Cain came along," the Scotsman growled. "No wonder several engines started to start acting out of sorts. I thought it was a case of engines getting older."

The engines sat in silence for a long while before a loud noise outside disturbed the tension.

Sylvia let out a piercing shriek and slammed herself into the buffers at the back of the shed while Sir Nigel gave a deep sigh.

"You can stop lurking North, I know you're there," He called and Gordon and Scotsman glanced at each other.

Slowly North entered the shed looking a bit ashamed before straightening himself up, expecting the repercussions of his actions.

Scotsman glared down at him while beside him he could feel Gordon start grumbling.

"I know my presence displeases you both, I was just curious as to why Scotsman was appearing in my memories while I slept and sought answers," North said gracefully. "I apologise for being deceptive."

He moved to leave but Scotsman called out to him.

"Wait! I have a request for you," he said and North looked back at him.

"Yes?"

"I want you to apologise to Gordon before you go," Scotsman said and North stared up at the blue engine who glared down at him.

Before North could speak, however, the blasting whistle of another A4 echoed through the grounds of the Gresley Manor.

The engines looked over to see Spencer storming over to them in almost a panic.

"Spencer?" Gordon asked very confusedly, "What are you doing here?"

"It's Mallard! He has Truro!" Spencer gasped out of breath as he rolled to a stop before them. "I came all the way from Sodor! Mallard's draining his soul we have to do something!"

"He's WHAT?!" The Flying Scotsman thundered angrily, suddenly becoming enraged and panicked. "HE HAS TRURO!?"

"Scotsman, don't do anything irrational-" Sir Nigel scolded but stopped when Scotsman glared at him.

"Oh, is Scotsman a human now?" Spencer asked but was ignored as Scotsman rounded on him.

"Take me back to Sodor, NOW!" He demanded but North stepped forward.

"If you go to Mallard you will die!" North snapped coldly.

"I don't care! He has Truro!" The Scotsman shouted at him.

"Don't be an idiot, Gordon and Olivia brought you here so that you wouldn't fall for Mallard's trap!" North argued. "You need to stay here where you are safe!"

Scotsman looked up at Gordon who seemed very concerned.

"Did you know about this?" Scotsman demanded and Gordon immediately denied it.

"No! No, I didn't! Ms Olivia didn't tell me anything!" Gordon said quickly. "But I agree, you should stay here, safe from Mallard."

"Shut up!" Scotsman yelled at him taking Gordon by surprise. "Don't you dare tell me what to do after you've LIED to me!"

Gordon stared at Scotsman, deep hurt in his eyes but Scotsman didn't seem to notice, he was so filled with panic and desperation.

"That's enough!" North barked at Scotsman. "You were brought here for your safety! You will stay here!"

"Why do you even care about me, you worthless engine!? Why don't you go and crawl back into the manor and sit amongst your false shrine to me!" Scotsman shouted slowly, sounding more and more unhinged.

"Scotsman you need to calm down and stop, this will not help Truro!" Sir Nigel implored the distressed human engine. "We cannot blindly run into a situation like this!"

"I need to save Truro!" The Scotsman ignored Sir Nigel and began to run towards Spencer's cab. "Take me back to Sodor! You need to take me back right now!"

"North stop him!" Sir Nigel yelled at Great Northern but the man was already running after the Scotsman.

North grabbed Scotsman and tackled him to the ground, sending ballast everywhere.

Scotsman screamed and tried to fight North off but the elder man was surprisingly strong and pinned him as the Scotsman struggled and flailed.

"Get off of me you monster!" Scotsman howled at him. "You worthless excuse of a brother!"

North felt deeply hurt at Scotsman's words but held firm, not releasing his grip.

"I'm sorry, little brother," he said quietly as he gave a sudden and quick strike to the back of Scotsman's head and the struggling man suddenly went silent and still, everything going black for the engine turned human.

North released him and carefully placed him in a safe place in the shed. A bench for some of the crews. He gazed at Sir Nigel and then looked at Gordon before going over to him.

"Gordon, I- I'm glad to see that you're well," North said and Gordon just stared at him, still rattled by what had just happened. "I, I need to apologise for treating you as I did when I was younger. I was a fool. I'm sorry."

He looked back at where he had laid the now unconscious Scotsman.

"Mallard won't give in until he's found Scotsman," North murmured. "And he doesn't know I'm still alive. He probably doesn't know what Scotsman looks like."

"Great Northern no-" Sir Nigel said. "Please, there has to be another way."

North shook his head. "Maybe, maybe I can redeem myself."

North smiled up at Sir Nigel with a kind and warm smile.

"Thank you for being my friend, even though I never did anything to deserve it, Sir Nigel," North said with a sad smile.

North turned towards Spencer who sat watching them warily and hesitantly.

"Silver Link, please take me to Sodor old friend."

…

>> Find Lady <<

…

~~~

“Olivia Gresley! Come out this instant!” Roman snarled through the corridors disturbing Great Northern from his Hornby Flying Scotsman model. He frowned and went to the door as Flying Scotsman watched confused.

“North!” Roman rounded on Great Northern, the short stout man going red in the face. “Have you seen the girl? She’s hiding from me!”

“With how aggressive and nasty you’re currently being I don’t blame her,” North said cooly and Roman tried to get in the man's face but North, as short as he was still towered over the man.

“Listen here you! You’re not even human! You don’t talk back to someone like me!” He snapped. “I am a Gresley! I practically own you!”

“You are not a Gresley and you do not own me,” North said coldly. “If Sir Nigel Gresley was still alive he wouldn’t even allow a man like you anywhere near his daughter. Now, you can stop being an abusive father to your daughter or I’ll inform Lady Gresley of your shady night activities.”

Roman looked ready to punch or threaten North but he thought against it and stormed off, yelling and snarling like a mad man. North watched him go with a look of disgust on his face before gently closing the door and quickly locking the door to his quarters. He stood silently, listening for a little while longer until retreating into his quarters and going to the bedroom.

He stood at the foot of his bed for a second before bending over and checking under it.

A small girl was curled up underneath it, covered in dust as she hid, trembling with tears sliding down her face the small toy of an engine clutched in her hands.

“It’s alright, it’s me, Uncle Nathan,” He said softly, holding his hands out to her. “Your father’s gone now.”

Slowly the girl crawled out on her hands and knees, still clutching the little model. She stood up before North who gazed at her sadly.

“Are you alright Little Olivia?” North asked and the girl shook her head as tears still streamed down her face. She approached him and hugged him which North rigidly and awkwardly hugged her back, clearly not comfortable with the embrace of another.

"What happened?" North asked after a while.

Olivia looked at her shoes, her hands tightly gripping the toy engine. It was a children's one based on a famous line of storybooks, based on Gordon that he'd gotten for her as a birthday gift

"He found your gift Uncle Nathan," she sniffed. "He said, 'girls aren't supposed to play with trains' and he tried to take it from me so I ran away."

She wiped away her tears harshly but began crying again.

"Did I do something wrong, Uncle Nathan? Am I not supposed to like trains?"

"You did nothing wrong," North assured her. "And your grandfather was famous for making trains. He loved them and you should too."

Olivia looked up at North, her face wet and barely able to see with the number of tears in them.

North quickly pulled out a handkerchief and began to dap and wipe her face dry gently. It was clear, with how hesitant he was that he was still very uncomfortable dealing with such a small child.

"Father says I'm supposed to be ladylike. Trains are not ladylike. He says my brothers will like trains, I will not," Olivia said sadly. "But, but I can't help but like them."

"Your father is a fool," North said. "Don't ever let him tell you what you can and can't like."

Olivia looked at North and nodded.

"I want to drive them when I grow up," Olivia said with a small smile returning to her little face.

"Really? Do you have a particular engine you want to drive?" North asked.

"Flying Scotsman!" Olivia said excitedly. "He said hello to me! And he's said I could drive him if I behaved!"

North chuckled.

Lady Jaqueline had been part of a rail event, invited by Sir Alpine. Although the mother and her sons had enjoyed the event, they hadn't shown the passion for the engines as Olivia had.

Olivia had been completely and utterly entranced by the Flying Scotsman as he had appeared. She was shy and frightened by just how large and loud the engine was but after he had talked to her kindly, Olivia had been captivated by him entirely.

She'd almost thrown a tantrum when Scotsman had to leave but the engine had promised her that if she behaved when she grew up she could be his driver.

North stared down lovingly at the young girl. Her passion was infectious, she craved his collection as much as he did, demanding to see every new piece and constantly asking where Scotsman was.

It gave him hope that he could one day make up for being such a horrible brother.

"I'm sure that one day, you will be a skilled engineer that Flying Scotsman will always remember," North said kindly.

Olivia looked sad though.

"But father doesn't want me to," she said sadly. "He says I'm to marry into a rich family and my brothers will drive our family's engines."

North gazed at her sadly.

"Olivia," he said kindly and Olivia looked up at him. "It doesn't matter what he wants. It matters what you want. You are your own person and when you are old enough, you can make your own choices.'

"But father says we have to obey him," Olivia mumbled. "That I don't have a choice."

North gave a deep sigh.

"You know, the Flying Scotsman wasn't always as confident and charming as he is today, when he was younger a lot of his siblings bullied him to the point he'd hide away and cry."

"Really? But he's so strong!"

"Not everyone starts off as strong, little Olivia," North said. "Even the biggest oak trees start from the tiniest seeds."

Olivia nodded, seeming to understand.

"His elder brother, Great Northern, tried to control him because of their designer's wishes. Their designer, your grandfather was like a father to them," North explained, his voice almost cracking. "Great Northern was hurtful and nasty to the Scotsman but he didn't mean to be. He realised too late what he'd done. In the end, Flying Scotsman became the strongest and most famous engine in the world and Great Northern became the biggest joke to the other engines."

"Serves him right!" Olivia said loudly. "His big brother sounded like a big bully!"

"But my point is, Scotsman grew strong, he survived where so many others failed," North said gently, taking Olivia's little hands in his. "I think that you'll be fantastic, whatever you decide to do in future."

Olivia smiled and hugged North tightly.

"Thank-you Uncle Nathan," she said into his jacket. "I'll make you proud, I promise!"

"I have no doubt that you will Little Olivia," North said, hugging her more tenderly this time.

Flying Scotsman stepped closer, pulling Great Northern from memory and into an almost shared mindscape-like place.

North had tears running down his face.

"You need to return to your engine and be whole again," North said quietly. "Olivia would be heartbroken if she lost you before she even got to be your engineer."

Scotsman just stared at him dumbfounded.

"I'm doing this for not only you, but for Olivia," North said quietly. "You both mean the world to me. I'm sorry I never showed that to you. But, I guess in my final act I will."

"Final act?" Scotsman croaked, his voice was hoarse.

"Mallard doesn't know what you look like as a human, he also doesn't know that my soul still remains attached to the few remaining pieces of my engine," North explained. "I have enough Gold Dust in my soul to trick him into thinking that I am you."

Scotsman fell his blood run cold. He was going to give himself to Mallard in place of himself. He wasn't going to survive if he did.

"Good-bye, Flying Scotsman "

"Wait, North STOP!" Scotsman called out trying to grab his elder brother but his brother faded into a mist of Gold Dust.

"NORTH NO PLEASE!"

The Scotsman collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

He was vaguely aware of the presence of that small red and gold engine nearby but he didn't care, he ignored it and pushed it away as it tried to comfort him.

He wanted his big brother back.

~~~

Chapter Text

"Tornado? You're back!" Green Arrow found the Peppercorn pulled into Knapford's first platform and excitedly sidled up next to her. "I missed you!"

Tornado smiled at him. "I missed you too Arrow," she said, clearly tired. "I've brought some… well I wouldn't say, friends."

"That's rude I'm right here," Pendennis scoffed from the other side of the station and behind him, Trojan gave a snort of laughter.

"Who'd wanna be friends with a trashy Aussie like you?" The saddle tank teased and Pendennis huffed.

"I'm not Australian and they're not trashy!" He argued annoyed.

"Not saying they are, just you," Trojan said gruffly and Pendennis sulked.

"I was referring to the Twins and Lady," Tornado corrected. "I have no problem with you or Trojan."

"Trojan's a nuisance, you'll soon find many problems with him," Pendennis said and Trojan rolled his eyes.

"I'm only a nuisance if you give me a reason to be," Trojan smirked and Pendennis glared at him.

"The Royal Twins are here?" Arrow suddenly asked. "You managed to convince them to come out of their sheds?"

"Yep, she's a clever one, Tornado," Pendennis beamed. "They wouldn't even move for Sir Nigel or the Duchess."

Green Arrow looked at Tornado, admiration in his gaze

"I'm impressed," he praised her. "That's not an easy thing to do."

Tornado blushed at his words.

"Are you that Green Arrow fella?" Trojan called out and Arrow looked at him.

"I am indeed."

"Heard a lot about you, you make the twins unhappy and that makes me happy so you're alright," Trojan told Arrow, making him very confused.

"I make them unhappy?" He asked.

"Yeah, Truro sings your praises a lot when he visits and it pisses them off knowing that a LNER engine upholds the values of the Great Western Railway," Trojan said with a laugh. "It's well funny."

Trojan glanced at Pendennis.

"Green Arrow rankles your coal too now don't he?" He laughed and Pendennis pulled a face.

"Yes, well," Pendennis glared at Arrow. "He tried to start a conflict between myself and Scotsman when I came back from Australia. I fell for it and made myself look like a fool in front of everyone."

Green Arrow's face paled and he looked away from the glaring Castle class.

"I was hoping you'd forgotten," Arrow ruefully admitted. "I am sorry about my past actions. They were incredibly childish and stupid."

Pendennis simply huffed and looked away from him while Trojan just rolled his eyes. Green Arrow looked down at his buffers guiltily and Tornado gave him an awkward encouraging smile. He wasn't at all proud of his undignified behaviour of the past.

"Ah, Green Arrow!" The Fat Controller greeted the engine. "I see you got Bear's message!"

"Yes sir, I came as quickly as could!" Green Arrow answered. "Is something wrong sir? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, you've been extremely reliable and useful Arrow!" The Fat Controller assured him. "I just wanted to know if James apologised to you for his behaviour."

"He just did sir, right before Bear came to inform me that you wanted to see me, sir,” Arrow informed him and the Fat Controller nodded.

"I'm glad to hear that Arrow," he beamed. He then motioned towards Tornado. "The other reason you're here is because Tornado requested your presence."

"You did?" Arrow looked over at the Peppercorn who smiled nervously.

"It's um, about Truro," she said in a low whisper and a cold feeling ran through his boiler.

"Oh," Green Arrow said quietly.

It felt like just yesterday he was speaking to the elder Great Western and confiding in him like a child would a parent. He missed him dearly.

"I have a plan to free him but it's going to rely on you getting close to Mallard," she said. "I don't want you damaged, I don't want a repeat of… what I did in the mine."

Arrow observed Tornado. She was very stressed at the memories of what had happened almost a year ago now.

Tornado had almost fallen down a sinkhole in Ulfstead Mine. He'd risked everything to save her and his boiler had almost exploded from the action of saving her. Understandable, Tornado didn't want to be responsible for hurting Arrow again.

"It's for Truro," Arrow assured her. "Truro is like a big brother to me, I'll gladly risk my life for him as I would for my friend, Tornado."

"You don't understand," Pendennis said gruffly. "Mallard's not just an arrogant prick who'll insult you. He has no Gold Dust. His soul has been replaced by Black Smoke. You risk having your soul ripped out of your engine by being near him."

"City of Truro has been near Mallard for too long!" Arrow snapped back at him. "We need to risk it!"

Pendennis said nothing more while Trojan watched the exchange carefully.

Arrow looked at Tornado.

"I trust you Tornado," he told her.

Tornado gave him a nervous smile.

"Thanks, Arrow."

~~~

“You don’t have to do this North,” Spencer said to North as he sat quietly in his cab out of the way of his crew. “I think it would be upsetting to Scotsman if he found out you’d given your soul for his.”

“I promised Sir Gresley to protect him,” North said staring out the cab window. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Sir Gresley is no longer here, the situation is different,” Spencer reminded him. “You are not obligated to uphold promises when the circumstances are different.”

“I am aware,” North stated his eyes narrowing. “But it does not change the fact that I hurt my little brother, I need to make it up to him.”

“Regardless of how traumatising this would be to Scotsman, what about Lady Olivia?” Spencer asked.

North did not speak for the longest while.

He’d seen Olivia grow up, been a father to her and had cherished her more than her own parents ever did. She was a strange young girl who’d never cared for the sensibilities of her parents. She’d always done what she had wanted, even under threats from her father.

He protected her and when she had run away from home as a teenager and never come back, he had been heartbroken. She’d left him a note to say she was going to be alright but he had worried over her.

Her father hadn’t even cared. Her mother had shown remorse for how she’d neglected her however and tried to find her but Olivia had left no trail behind her. She’d simply disappeared.

It wasn’t until he met her at a Steam Railway meet many years later that he’d see her again. She had been an engineer in training. She’d missed him and her brothers more than anything but she was strong and doing well for herself. She had sworn him to secrecy.

She reminded him of Sir Gresley, only Olivia had a kinder heart for her engines and respected their welfare. Not that Sir Gresley hadn't, Olivia was just more personal in a way he wasn't.

He couldn’t have been more proud.

“Lady Olivia will understand,” North murmured but Spencer was not convinced in the slightest.

“I don’t think she will,” Spencer argued. “You should have explained what was going on to her. She won’t forgive you for this.”

North said nothing for a long while.

“The Duke and Duchess will be suspicious if you’re on the mainland for too long,” was all he said and Spencer gave a deep sigh.

“You’re making a mistake North,” Spencer chastised and North just shook his head.

“I’ve lived almost 100 years with the guilt of what I did to my younger brother Silver Link,” Great Northern said bitterly. “I promised myself the first chance I got, to redeem myself, to make it up to him that I would take it. You cannot convince me otherwise.”

“The Gresley family will have my smokebox for this,” Spencer said bitterly. “I think Scotsman’s going to hate me forever.”

“I do apologise for dragging you into this Link,” North apologised. “But drastic measures call for drastic actions. How bad was City of Truro when you last saw him.”

“He was conscious, but he wasn’t coherent or aware of anything going on around him,” Spencer said quietly. “We don’t have very much time left.”

“I just hope that it will be enough,” North said his expression turning into one of determination.

“Didn’t think you would approve of Scotsman and Truro being, you know, together,” Spencer muttered. “I know Mallard hates it. Union and a few others disapprove of it too. And don’t get me started on the Twin Kings.”

“I did not approve at first,” North admitted. “But, seeing how much Scotsman has calmed down and become more mature with Truro around made me realise just how good he is for him. He seems, happier, even when he was suffering from illness.”

A warm smile appeared on North’s face as he reflected on Scotsman’s personality change since becoming more acquainted with the Great Western.

“Yes but he’s still a ridiculous idiot,” Spencer scoffed. “Same with Gordon.”

“There are some things you have to accept are part of someone’s personality,” North smiled fondly. “Scotsman spent most of his early days and months with Gordon, it was bound to be ingrained in him.”

Spencer just gave a small ‘hmph’ and continued thundering down the rails.

For a long while, the engine, his crew and North did not speak, riding the rails in complete silence.

“You know, as frustrating as she was, I do miss Pretty Polly,” North sighed sadly.

“I thought you still hated her,” Spencer said surprised.

“I guess, but there aren’t very many engines around that have her strong will or personality,” North remarked. “I’ve never met another engine as headstrong as her.”

“I dunno, Quicksilver had her moments,” Spencer chuckled. “You had to be either brave or stupid to mess with her.”

“She only ever got mad when one of the other silvers was having a bad time,” North remembered. “Or when her crew couldn’t keep up with her. Polly was similar but still quite different. Polly defended everyone and she would not back down, even to a human. Quicksilver would never be one to be so indignant to argue with one of the directors. Polly argued with them constantly.”

“I suppose,” Spencer mused. The silver engine sighed. “Any word from Silver Fox?”

“She’s working on the Bluebell,” North informed him. “She’s one of their best historians. She misses her siblings dearly but she’s very happy.”

Spencer beamed.

“I’m happy for her, baby girl deserves all the happiness in the world,” he said happily.

“You should visit her,” North advised.

“Ah that’s the trouble with being a private engine,” Spencer said. “I’m very rarely lent out to pull trains at railways. Only for big events like Jubilees.”

“That’s sad,” North said quietly.

“It’s better than being scrapped,” Spencer pointed out.

“That’s true.”

“Forgive my lack of tact but did you…” Spencer paused, trying not to sound rude. “Did you, feel, your engine being scrapped?”

North shook his head.

“I was knocked unconscious and sedated until the process was done thankfully,” North explained. “There was a risk of the pain or the stress severing my soul from the saved parts of my engine. When I woke up I just felt, empty. Like all my organs were missing. I understand why so many engines never survived the process, it’s like a constant weight on your soul. It crushes you. Destroys you.”

“But you’re still here,” Spencer said quietly.

“There were times when I thought I wouldn’t make it but,” North stared at the floor of the cab. “Somehow I’m still here.”

“Please, I’m begging you, Great Northern,” Spencer pleaded. “Don’t do this, there has to be another way.”

North shook his head.

“I’ve made up my mind,” he declared. “You can’t convince me otherwise old friend.”

Spencer sighed and said nothing, he looked ahead and saw the Vicarstown bridge in the distance, peaking over the tree tops.

He guessed there was no turning back now.

~~~

"What a horrible island!" Lady of Legend huffed as she gazed around Sodor.

"Now, now Lady," King Edward the II chided her. "We are guests here, we must be polite."

"Look at all these old engines! It's disgusting!" She said ignoring the Second causing the big green engine before them to glare at her.

"We may not be new builds," the engine said clearly annoyed. "But we work hard every day and prove our worth every day. It doesn't matter how old we are so long as we are useful."

"Quite right Henry," a similar engine standing next to Henry said. "I would have thought that the Great Western prides itself on such values, King Edwards?"

"You are very correct 5025," the Second cut in. "But Lady of Legend is a very unique and special engine."

"Indeed," 5025 said, raising an eyebrow. "It's quite unusual for an engine to be built atop a rusted corpse."

The First blasted steam at the Black 5 in response while the Second looked extremely annoyed.

"How dare you spread those rumours about our precious girl!" The Green King shrieked angrily.

"They aren't rumours if it's true," 5025 snapped staring down at Lady of Legend.

"What does this horrid engine mean by that my Kings?" Lady asked confused and worried.

"Nothing, nothing," the Green King tried to soother her but the Blue King looked concerned. "You are perfect my dear Lady, do not let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Perhaps we shouldn't keep-" the Second began but his brother glared at him. The Blue King quickly shut his mouth and looked away.

"I can't imagine your actions will go over well with Truro," 5025 remarked watching the two King classes fuss over Lady of Legend. "Truro demands all engines of the Great Western show values of their railway. From what I'm seeing you've only taught Lady here to be a spoilt little brat."

"I am not a spoiled brat!" Lady of Legend screeched shrilly.

5025 rolled his eyes. "Even in her baby stages, Tornado was nothing like this. An anxious thing, but never this obnoxious."

The Black 5 rounded on the King Edwards, "She hasn't done a hard day's work has she?"

"Enough! I will not tolerate this slander from a filthy LMS middle-class workhorse!" The Green King snapped angrily. "I am a royal engine and you will address me as such!"

"Gordon's pulled a royal train too," Henry pointed out. "He doesn't act entitled. Well, not as bad as you do."

"Gordon's pulled a royal train?" 5025 suddenly asked his brother curiously.

Henry blushed. "I was supposed to do it but I had a little accident so Gordon pulled it instead."

"My, how grand," 5025 smiled at Henry and he blushed even redder. "You certainly have such interesting friends here on Sodor don't you?"

"Enough!" The Green King snapped. 5025 and Henry couldn't help but notice that the Blue King Edward had gone quiet and looked guilty. "We are here to rescue Truro, not deal with this riff-raff! Where is that stupid Peppercorn?"

"Tornado is not stupid!" Henry snapped angrily, immediately stepping in to defend her. "She's a hard-working engine who pulls her weight and is clever and brilliant!"

5025 who had no particular love for Tornado was also looking very annoyed.

"I've seen Tornado haul loads that would break your boiler Great Western," he snapped. "Show some respect!"

"Is that 5025 defending me I hear?" Tornado's voice called out as she appeared in the distance. "Never thought you had it in you, you rusty old fool."

5025 gave an amused snort. "I see Scotsman's wit has rubbed off on you and now become a part of your very being."

"Yeah well, he's kind of loud and annoying about it," Tornado grumbled. "Silly old man."

The Green King looked impatient.

"Well, did you find the nasty little engine?" The Green King huffed.

"I'm just as big as you, you uptight snob," Green Arrow huffed as he pulled up beside Tornado. "Tornado's done me the favour of filling me in so I don't have to talk to you. I know how much you hate Truro's favourite."

The Twin Kings looked disgusted by Green Arrow who simply flashed a grin at them.

"You LNER engines have no tact!" The Green King snorted and Arrow just rolled his eyes.

“Regardless, can we please move on from this?” Tornado asked. “We need to get Truro free as soon as possible.”

“I agree,” the LMS Black 5 5025 thundered. “Put your ridiculous egos away and focus on what is important.”

The Green King looked indignant and about to argue but the Blue King rolled forward with a determined expression across his face.

“For Truro,” he declared and the other engines made sounds of agreement while the Green King looked reluctant. He seemed to sigh and said nothing.

His actions caught Pendennis’s attention who glared but said nothing.

~~~

"He's not responding to the Gold Dust ma'am," the Doctor said quietly as he hovered over Flying Scotsman's limp and lifeless form. "But he's not deteriorating either which is a good sign."

Olivia merely gave an anxious look at the man before turning her attention back to the unconscious Scotsman.

She reached over and placed a hand on his forehead, feeling the skin unnaturally warm under her hand, his skin almost had a golden glow to him. When the Cold Iron Sleep had a grip on him, it turned his skin grey and ice cold however this new strange set of symptoms they had never seen before.

They'd called Sir Robert and any other guardians of the Golden Wells but no one had answers. They'd never seen anything like this before. Maybe it had something to do with Scotsman being an origin of Gold Dust.

"Olivia!"

Olivia looked up as her mother, Lady Jaqueline barged through the doors of Scotsman's private quarters.

"Mother! This is not a good time!" Olivia complained and Jaqueline looked over at Scotsman's unconscious body before turning back to her daughter, ignoring the pressing issue.

"Have you seen North?" Her mother asked, worried. "It's almost midnight and I cannot find him anywhere. I've had the servents search everywhere for him."

Olivia held her mother's gaze for a second before she looked away.

"I think he had a fight with Scotsman and ran away," she said quietly. It wasn't entirely untrue, North had literally knocked Scotsman out from what Gordon had told her. "I don't know where but, knowing North, he probably had his reasons."

Lady Jaqueline looked like she wanted to argue but she could tell that her daughter was exhausted.

"I'm just… worried about him," Lady Jaqueline said hesitantly. "Your father doesn't care about him but, well North's been part of the family longer than your father ever has. I promised my father that I would protect our legacy, our engines. The directors of the LNER had no where to send him after his engine was scrapped. They put him in my care on the promise that one day they would rebuild his engine but… they never did."

Lady Jaqueline looked sadden and upset.

“North is technically my brother I guess. My father made us both in a way,” She mused quietly. “He wasn’t human but… he was still my brother. The advice he gave was always good advice.”

"Then why didn't you heed his warning when he told you how awful our father was and that Sir Gresley would never approve of this, cheating meathead who thinks nothing about his next lay?" Olivia said coldly. "You really think that behaviour is acceptable to our family? To the Gresley name? We’re an honourable family, not a bunch of school drop outs who have nothing better to do than to be a bunch of degenerates?! It’s disgusting! How dare you disgrace the Gresley name!"

Lady Jaqueline seemed to flinch at her words, she looked upset and like she wanted argue but Olivia knew that she couldn’t.

"He's wasting our family's hard-earned fortune. We’re supposed to value hard work and integrity like our Grandfather’s engines!" Olivia snapped. "North told me everything. I've been in contact with 'Uncle Nathan' for many years now. He told me every single thing he could get on Roman. He just couldn’t do anything because he technically ‘doesn’t exist’."

Lasy Jaqueline gave a tired sigh.

"I know, I know sweetheart-"

"I'm not your sweetheart!" Olivia snapped angrily. "Not when I barely ever saw you! Not when you constantly abandoned your children to be drunken idiots at parties with other rich people!"

A tense silence hung over the room, as Olivia turned away from her mother and focus her attention on Flying Scotsman.

"I'm sorry mother," Olivia shamefully said, "I just don't have good memories of you or father."

Lady Jaqueline nodded slightly.

"I know. North always tried to get me to see what I was doing wrong but I always ignored him. That was until you ran away from home," she said sadly. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I truly do regret the way I treated you when you were younger. I can't speak for your father though. He is still furious that you disobeyed his wishes."

"I'm your daughter, not some servant," Olivia said bitterly. She sighed and tried to force herself to calm down. "I heard that he won't sign the divorce papers."

Lady Jaqueline sighed and looked away frustrated. "It's been going on for years now." She said agitatedly.

"Well, Gordy asked me to bring a solution and I did," Olivia smiled.

"Did he now?"

"It'll take time but, I think it'll fix a lot of problems, I trust Gordon, he’s good with dealing with family matters," Olivia said with a smile. "As for North… the engines won't tell me. He's gone and Oscar found Scotsman passed out in the sheds. Something clearly happened that caused him to fall unconscious."

She watched over the unconscious man, his face was motionless but she could see that he was still tense and in distress.

Lady Jaqueline stepped forward. “Olivia, I know this won’t compensate for neglecting you but I’ve been in contact with your brothers and I spoke to your fiancé, we spoke about the inheritance of the family and well, since you’re the only one upholding my father’s name and legacy. We decided that you should be the next Matriarch of the family if you decide to reclaim the Gresley name.”

Olivia looked up at her mother surprised. Her mother gave her an encouraging smile.

“What about father? He won’t agree to that,” Olivia pointed out.

“Our marriage was an arranged one and seeing as our marriage is up in the air, my lawyers have decided to negotiate a way to transfer power to our children,” Lady Jaqueline said with a coy smile. “Roman will get nothing.”

Olivia nodded quietly, smiling slightly.

“Let’s focus on finding North and rescuing one of my engines for now mother,” Olivia stated and Lady Jaqueline nodded.

“Of course Lady Olivia.”

~~~

“Flying Scotsman?”

“Go away!”

The little scarlet engine looked mournfully down at the whimpering man. She went to wrap him up in a glow of Gold Dust but it was shrugged away, Scotsman’s command of the Gold Dust was almost as strong as her own if not stronger.

“I wish to speak with you, you found me, dear Scotsman,” Lady tried to comfort him but Scotsman just drew in a shaky breath and tried to shrink away from her.

“I don’t want to talk to anyone, I’m tired of this!” Scotsman snapped. “I’m tired of being sick, I’m tired of being lied to and I hate having these stupid flashbacks in my upsetting memories!”

Scotsman uncurled himself from his ball and glared up at the like Scarlet and Gold engine.

“Leave me alone!” He shouted at her. “Bring North back to me!”

“I can’t bring him back if he’s determined to do something,” the little engine said mournfully. “Gold Dust is like an engine’s willpower and Great Northern does have a great deal of it. He spent most of his life waiting to try and make things right with you, his little brother. I don’t think anyone will convince him not to do this and I cannot force him to go against his will.”

Scotsman shook his head and sniffed angrily.

“What about Mallard? Couldn’t you at least stop the humans from defiling his engine with Black Smoke?” Scotsman snapped angrily. “Couldn’t you save his soul or something to prevent this insanity? Why didn’t you talk to me before? Why now are you talking to me!”

Scotsman was yelling now, he was so furious. The little engine didn’t look phased however, she sat there quietly watching him as he raged, waiting for him to calm down.

“I couldn’t talk to you because Black Smoke was preventing me from fully appearing to you,” Lady explained. “There was a small vial that someone slipped into your engine during your last rebuild. It took all my strength to save you from that evil man.”

“Cain? You were the one who saved me from Cain?” Scotsman asked. “Then, then that wasn’t Pegler’s Ghost I saw in my dreams?”

Lady didn’t say anything confirming his suspicions.

“That gave me hope,” Scotsman declared his voice wavering. “I missed him. He was my only friend for the longest time! When everything was going wrong he was there to help me!”

Tears slipped down Scotsman’s face and Lady watched him sadly.

“Was the Sir Gresley I saw a fake too? Was it you manipulating me?!” Scotsman rounded on Lady.

“I needed something deep and personal to try and reach you, to break through the veil of Black Smoke,” Lady confirmed. “It was extremely deceptive and wrong of me. I am truly sorry.”

Scotsman shook his head angrily. “I don’t care what you want, just leave me alone.”

“I need your help to save the sentience of engines, we are at risk of losing our sapience,” Lady urged. “Please, I would not invade your personal thoughts and do such things without there being a dire reason to do so. I cannot deal with the monster that was once Mallard alone.”

“Maybe it’s for the better,” Scotsman said coldly. “Maybe once we’re all gone the humans can go about their lives without us constantly being an issue for them.”

“Flying Scotsman please,” Lady argued. “This is not the reason I chose you to be my champion.”

“Then you should have chosen someone else then,” Scotsman said coldly.

“No, I know I made the right choice,” Lady’s expression grew determined as she gazed at him.

Scotosman just glared at her confused and annoyed now. He was growing tired of these riddles and tricks, this nonsense with Golden Dust. He sighed and looked down at the Scarlet and Gold engine.

“Then enlighten me,” he said clearly fed up. “Why me? Why not Gordon? Or North or even Green Arrow while you're at it?”

“When most people think of a Steam Engine, the first thing they usually think of is you,” Lady said with a confident smile. “Because when children see you they are intimidated, delighted and enthralled. There is nothing on earth quite like a Steam Engine and no one embodies the Age of Steam quite like you do. You are kind-hearted, you are willing to save others, even if you feel they have wronged you and unlike your siblings, you had to learn your confidence and your place. You embody both the joy and hardships of steam engines and you are not arrogant nor are you consumed by pride like many of your contemporaries.”

Flying Scotsman looked up at Lady who was gazing at him with admiration in her gaze.

“I’m just an idiot who kept getting lucky,” He said bitterly. “I’m not as special as you think I am.”

“I disagree,” Lady said with a smile. “I hope one day you’ll realise why people fought to save you. Will you at the very least help me save City of Truro and Great Northern?”

Scotsman frowned. He was still deeply upset that the little engine had been manipulating him with the memories of those close to him but he needed to save Truro. He needed to save Great Northern. If this little engine could help him do that then it had to count for something.

He drew in a deep breath and centred himself.

“Very well,” he admitted quietly. “But this does not make what you did to me right. If I help you then you don’t ever use people from my past ever again.”

Lady gave him a reassuring smile.

“I promise to not do such horrendous things to the memories of your loved ones,” Lady promised and Scotsman gave a slight smile.

“Good.”

~~~

Godred tried to pull himself from the grip of the grey-faced almost stone-looking humans, their eyes blank and lifeless, their souls felt cold and made of ice. It felt like they were made from the Black Smoke that he sometimes saw being exhausted out of the funnels of engines.

Their grip was inhumanely strong and their skin felt as cold as steel as he tried to writhe himself away from them but it was no use.

Oh how he should have heeded Sir Robert and Mr Richard’s warnings and not gone snooping around where that new big engine had made its dominion.

He felt himself thrown to the floor before the large blue engine that appeared almost jet black in the cool dim lights of the closed Sodor museum. Besides the engine, he saw the dim golden glow of City of Truro, the engine that he’d constantly fought with and annoyed.

The engine looked dead, Truro’s eyes were completely white save for the faded grey pupils and there were deep cracks running down his face. He stumbled away frightened at the sight of the Great Western Engine with it’s soul almost completely gone.

He did, however, notice that it wasn’t severed, the soul holding on with a vice-like grip to it’s engine. It was still glowing, the firebox was refusing to give up its heat.

“Aren’t you pleased?” The strangely shaped blue engine suddenly spoke, its voice full of menace and a cold ire. “I was under the impression that you did not like City of Truro.”

“I um, I wasn’t expecting him to be so, uh,” Godred flailed with his hands.

“Dead?” Mallard questioned and Godred inwardly flinched at the word.

“Yeah, dead I guess,” Godred admitted refusing to look at the City class engine.

He did not like City of Truro one bit. He thought the engine a stuffy and old-fashioned stubborn old fool who demanded things be done to the letter. But he never wished death upon the engine. That was a bit too much even for him.

Godred looked at the ground, the big blue engine was staring him down, making him feel helpless and small.

“I understand you’ve got ambitions, little Mountain engine,” the big engine drawled and Godred felt a lump in his throat.

“You could say that,” he said nervously.

“Then let me offer you a deal,” Mallard said. Godred looked up but the big streamlined engine's face was stoic and betrayed no emotion.

“A deal?” He asked trying not to show he was afraid.

“I’ve make sure to have the Culdee Railway rebuild your little engine in exchange for your cooperation,” the engine said and everything in Godred’s body told him to not take this deal no matter what.

“My cooperation?”

“You know what Scotsman’s human form looks like do you not? If he was to come here, you could confirm to me if it was him or not, yes?”

Godred stared at his feet for a little while, not sure if he should tell the truth or lie. He didn’t like Scotsman either but he was the first engine who had succeeded in becoming human for many decades. He felt a strange kinship with him, even if he disliked him greatly.

“Let me make this easier for you then,” Mallard declared.

Suddenly one of the men grabbed Godred from behind the neck and placed a canister of Black Smoke against his head.

Godred screamed as if felt like frozen knives were being thrust into his skull and into his brain. It was so painful that he began crying, he felt his very soul feel like it was being torn from his body.

He was let go and dropped to the ground by the man after what seemed like an eternity. He choked and trembled on the cold ground his entire body wracked with pain and terror.

“You’ll confirm Scotsman’s appearance to me or I’ll do to you what I did to Truro,” Mallard’s voice thundered above him.

Godred heard himself deliriously agree to do whatever Mallard wanted and plead for mercy before he was grabbed and unceremoniously dragged away, his entire world going black as he passed out.

~~~

Chapter Text

16 - Saved from Scrap

"Excuse me, are you Duck?" A voice called to him with a slight Australian accent.

Duck looked up from the tracks before him to gaze at an engine on the other track he had never seen before. At a glance, he could have mistaken it for Truro but on closer inspection, he recognised it as a Castle Class.

He put on his brightest grin and became excited. Castle Classes were a big deal on the GWR, one of their most successful engines and even said to outperform the Gresley A3s they worked so well.

"Why yes sir, I am Duck!" He introduced himself excitedly. "You're a castle class aren't you sir? I'm very pleased to meet you, sir!"

The engine chuckled. "Okay calm down there buddy, I'm not that big of a deal. Name's Pendennis Castle."

"You're the Pendennis Castle?" Duck suddenly shouted so loudly that he startled people on the platform. He ignored them and blushed a deep red, embarrassed by meeting another famous Great Western Engine.

"It's an honour to meet you, sir! I've always wanted to meet you, Truro speaks of you often and I hope that I made a first good impression and didn't come across as-" Duck ran his words together in a huge rush of word vomit to which Pendennis laughed at him.

"Alright! Alright! Just calm down, let some excess steam off there mate!" He advised and Duck let out a cloud of steam embarrassed.

"S- Sorry, I get carried away sometimes," Duck admitted embarrassed. "I'm just proud of being a Great Western sir."

"So you should be," Pendennis beamed at the little Pannier Tank. "And you don't have to call me sir. I'm not Truro."

"Sorry," Duck apologised.

"It's alright," Pendennis smiled before suddenly looking away nervously. "Uh, I know we only just met but I have a favour to ask of you Duck."

"Of course! Anything for a famous Great Western," Duck enthusiastically agreed but Pendennis gave a nervous laugh.

"Well, you might hate me for giving you this task after it's been and done but I can see why Truro speaks highly of you," Pendennis mused. "Are you up for possibly one of the most annoying and challenging tasks of your life?"

Duck raised an eyebrow but stared at the bigger engine curiously.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I need to leave an engine in your care," Pendennis explained. "She's brand new and she's uh, well let's just say she hasn't learnt the values of the Great Western Railway yet."

"There's a new Great Western Engine?" Duck asked, completely surprised.

"Yes, created a few years ago on Didcot Railway however she's never left said railway and requires some, breaking in shall we say? Do you think you could handle it?"

"I'll give it my best Castle," Duck declared and Pendennis gave him a nervous smile.

"Thank you, you're doing me a huge favour Duck," the castle class smiled. "And I'm sorry."

"It can't be that bad," Duck pointed out but Pendennis didn't look convinced.

"Just… try not to hate me five minutes in," was all he said, his face looking pensive and concerned.

After a few moments, an engine that Duck recognised as a Saint Class rolled up beside Pendennis Castle.

"Why can't I go with the others?" The engine snapped in a high-pitched childish tone. "I'm more important than Trojan or that fat, ugly engine!"

Pendennis scowled angrily.

"That is no way to speak about Tornado," he scolded angrily. "Tornado is your elder and it is the Great Western way to respect our elders young Lady!"

The Saint class just humphed childishly while Pendennis glared at her.

"Now, the Kings have entrusted you to me but I have things to attend to," Pendennis informed her. "Since you can't be trusted on your own I'm putting one of City of Truro's highly spoken engines in charge of you. He will show you what to do and you will obey him or the King Edwards will be displeased "

"I don't need a babysitter!" The engine snapped and looked down at Duck. "Especially not a little tank engine like that!"

"Now you listen here!" Duck snapped angrily at the engine. "I dunno who you are but you'll think twice about talking back to me now! Give me any more lip like that and I'll send you to the quarry to shunt coal trucks! Really! Do you call yourself a Great Western with that attitude? I have mind to send you to a shed and lock you in if you talk back to me again!"

Pendennis looked impressed while the Saint Class looked completely and utterly insulted.

"Maybe now you'll learn what it means to be a Great Western, Lady of Legend," Pendennis remarked sounding pleased with Duck's show of dominance. It didn't seem that the little engine was going to be pushed around as he fear. "I apologise Duck, the girl hasn't done a hard day's work in her life, she needs to learn but I think you can handle her yes?"

"I'll soon sort her out!" Duck said happily. "Sodor is the perfect place to break in a new steam engine!"

Lady of Legend looked appalled.

"You can't leave me here! I am a Lady! The Kings will complain!" She argued but Pendennis frowned.

"On the contrary, the Second was the one who ordered you to be sent to work," he said and Lady of Legend looked betrayed and insulted.

"But I am a show engine! I don't pull trucks or speak to the shunters!" Lady insisted causing Duck to raise an eyebrow. "Pendennis please!"

"Enough!" Pendennis barked. He looked to Duck. "I leave this engine in your capable buffers, Duck."

"Thank you, sir!" Duck called to the Engine as Pendennis slowly departed backing away.

Duck looked to the new engine, Lady of Legend who huffed angrily and pointedly avoided looking at the pannier. Duck glared at her.

Even at his worst, Gordon and his grumpiness was still miles above this newer engine's attitude.

"Call yourself a Great Western eh?" Duck scoffed at her. "You seem more like a spoilt brat to me. Great Westerns do not complain and they respect their peers. You'll soon come to learn that."

The engine still ignored him and Duck rolled his eyes.

This one would take some breaking in it seemed. That was fine, Duck told himself and then began to grin.

He did love a challenge.

~~~

"Um Sir Robert," Thomas asked the Earl as he came to pick the man up. "May I ask why there are all these strange engines up at the castle? Even Henry's brother went up there."

The Earl didn’t answer for a while, his face set and pensive. Worry was written all over his face.

"Is everything alright sir?" Thomas asked concerned.

"I'm afraid not," the Earl said uncertainly. "There are many things not alright my dear Thomas."

"Anything I can do to help sir?"

"I'm afraid not," Sir Robert said grimly. "I do not want any Sudrian Engines damaged or hurt with the going on at the castle."

Thomas looked disheartened. The Earl turned towards him.

"But I want to help sir, I know that something is wrong and it's making me incredibly anxious sir," Thomas insisted. "I promised Gordon I would not interfere but it's eating away at me like a rust sir!"

Sir Robert gave Thomas a sympathetic but saddened smile.

"You're truly a kind soul Thomas, it's why everyone loves you around the world. However Gordon is right, you could get really hurt if you get involved. Hurt enough that you may be scrapped," the man said and Thomas's eyes widened in fright.

"Will- will the engines up there be alright?" He asked scared, almost like a child.

"I certainly hope so," the Earl wished. "But one can never know until fate arrives."

Thomas looked at him puzzled and was about to question him but the Earl had already begun to hope into Annie.

"Fast as you can to Ulfstead Castle if you please Thomas!" Sir Robert called and Thomas snapped out of his puzzled demeanour and became alert and confident.

"Yes sir, right away sir!"

Thomas pumped his pistons as hard as he could to get to the Castle, his wheels pounding the rails.

Even if he didn't know what was going on, he knew it was important and he knew that it was a very serious situation, whatever it was and the Earl was relying on him to get him there as fast as he could.

As he rolled into the station outside the Earl's estate he was surprised to find the man from the Museum waiting to meet them and a Green Saddle Tank that wasn't Percy.

The Earl thanked him and quickly left with Henry Stainer, talking to the man in hushed tones and with great urgency.

Thomas attempted to listen to them but the two men kept their secrets to themselves.

"You that famous tank engine that the kiddos like?" The green tank engine asked and Thomas looked over at him.

The engine sounded gruff and spoke with a thick Welsh accent.

"I am, I'm Thomas the Tank Engine!" Thomas said proudly. "The really useful engine!"

"Ah so you and your little green friend is the reason I keep getting called 'Percy' all the time," the engine said gruffly and Thomas blushed embarrassed.

"You do? I'm sorry about that it's not personal," Thomas apologised to the engine.

The engine just laughed. "Don't worry about it! It's funny seeing kids' faces when I'm not cute Lil Percy! Name's Trojan."

Thomas smiled at Trojan.

"It's nice to meet you, Trojan!" He said happily and Trojan grunted in reply.

He seemed to have a no-nonsense attitude and be a hardy engine, kind of like Duck. He wondered if the two were friends as he glanced at the words 'Great Western' painted over his 'saddle'.

"Um, Trojan, do you know what's happening up at the castle?" Thomas asked and Trojan looked at him puzzled.

"I'm not from around here so no, I don't," he huffed. "That Peppercorn lass had a mission and I get bored of Didcot sometimes you know?"

Thomas didn’t know but he knew what he meant.

“There are times when I want to go beyond Sodor,” he said quietly. “I love this place but sometimes, running the same lines every day gets boring you know?"

"At least you run lines, I only ever get to shunt or pull connections for the bigger engines," Trojan said. "You're very lucky. Very few tank engines have the privileges that you do."

"I know," Thomas assured the engine brightly. "I don't take it for granted."

He paused and looked away from Trojan.

"Any more at least," he mumbled to himself and Trojan gave a barking laugh.

"Sounds like you pissed off some other engines in your time huh?"

Thomas gave a mischievous grin.

"You could say that."

Trojan was about to speak again when the loud blast t of a whistle echoed through the station. The saddle tank groaned.

“Another of those bloody toasters!” Trojan groaned annoyed as a flash of silver glimmered in the distance.

“Toaster?” Thomas asked confused but then noticed the large silver engine pulling into the station. It was Spencer and he didn’t look at all pleased or happy. In fact, he looked downright upset and depressed.

“Oi, you can clear off!” Trojan shouted at Spencer. “You toasters are nothing but bloody trouble! Get lost will ya!”

Spencer gave the Saddletank a glare but otherwise ignored him, his attention directed towards the passenger who was climbing off of his footplate.

The passenger wore a completely black casual suit and had bright red hair and a beard and was short and stocky. He had a grim expression and a proper demeanour like a lord or a railway director.

“North please, I’m begging you, reconsider,” Spencer seemed to beg the man. “Think of your brother or Lady Olivia.”

The man frowned at the Silver Engine who was looking desperate and concerned, something that Thomas had never seen before. His worry grew, something was going on and it was something very serious.

“Goodbye and thank you for being my friend, Silver Link,” was all the man simply said before turning on his heel and walking away without even looking back.

“You’re making a mistake Great Northern!” Spencer shouted at his back. “Please, come back!”

He was ignored and the man quickly disappeared up the path towards the castle.

“Silver Link?” Thomas asked confused.

“Great Northern? What do you mean Great Northern? That old rust bucket’s been scrapped for over 50 years now,” Trojan said looking at the silver engine confused. “Just what is going on you great silver toaster?”

Spencer said nothing, ignoring them, his eyes focused on where the man had gone an expression of deep sadness in his eyes.

“Spencer, what is going on?” Thomas asked, grabbing Spencer’s attention. The big silver tender engine started at the little tank engine sadly before quickly looking away.

“I need to get back to the Duke and Duchess,” was all he said before quickly departing, leaving Trojan and Thomas staring at one another.

~~~

Tornado stared pensively at Green Arrow as the humans buzzed around him with equipment, canisters of gold dust being mounted on him to protect him and big strong cables being fastened on to him to drag him out if the need occurred.

Her worry increased. What if this was to go wrong? What if Green Arrow was lost and he was damaged beyond repair by Mallard?

Mallard was so much large than Arrow, the A4 could seriously damage him.

"Wait stop," she called out to the men. "Don't, I don't want Arrow to do this. It's my plan, I should go instead."

Arrow looked over to Tornado. Her expression was completely distraught as the workmen paused what they were doing and stared up at her. The men then looked to Stainer and the Earl who were watching carefully.

"Tornado? Is something wrong?" Stainer asked.

"I- I don't feel comfortable with Arrow doing this, I want to do it myself!" Tornado insisted but she looked uncertain.

"Tornado, we've already made arrangements," Stainer said frustrated. "We have an entire Great Western Envoy. It's now or never. Truro will die if we don't act."

"But Arrow," Tornado looked at the smaller engine concerned. "I hurt him once before. I do not want my actions to hurt him again."

Arrow gazed back at the larger engine. He observed her for a while before speaking.

"You know, I don't have many friends, Tornado," he started and Tornado looked at him. "Even when my siblings were around, even while I worked the mainlines, I- I never really had any friends. I've always been a loner you know?"

Arrow gave a soft sigh and looked at his buffers.

"I never really cared for having friends. My siblings and I, just cared about our work, we didn’t care for the other engines especially when those around us didn’t care about us," he continued. "But when I became part of the museum and saw all these different engines, I wanted to befriend them but every time I tried I was always so… awkward and well I struggled. I really struggled Tornado. I just couldn't make any friends and I don't know why. I don't know what was wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you Arrow," Tornado tried to assure him but Arrow just stared at his buffers, a sense of deep sadness and hurt in his eyes.

"I was so lonely in rooms filled with people and engines," Arrow mumbled quietly. "But then I met Truro. He reached out to me one day. He saw that I was upset and just kind of befriended me. I don't know how or why but Truro was just, he was just there if I needed an ear or something."

Green Arrow stared at the ground tears burning in his eyes.

"He tried to help me befriend others but… but well it never worked. Except for Mallard. I talked to Mallard and he was friendly to me. I realise now he was just using me but… but please understand Tornado."

Green Arrow looked up and into Tornado's eyes.

"For the longest time, Truro was- is my only friend," Arrow said quietly. "Until I met you. I have to do this, Tornado. Truro was the first real friend I had. He made me feel like for once in my life I was actually worth something."

Tornado looked sadly at the paved ground around her, a deep sadness in her boiler. She had never heard Arrow be so honest, bare his soul so completely to her.

“I’m doing this for my friend, Tornado,” Arrow said quietly. “I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try. I would rather be hurt in the attempt than live with the guilt of doing nothing.”

Tornado seemed to understand. She looked at her buffers.

“You’ve… never been that honest with me before,” She said and Green Arrow gave a sad smile.

“I’ve never been that honest with anyone else before, not even Truro,” Arrow explained. “It’s always been hard for me to understand how I feel, let alone explain it to someone else.”

“You trust me? Even after everything I did to you? After you burst your boiler?”

Green Arrow smiled. “Of course, I trust you Tornado. You’re my closest friend, even, even if you’re not ready to make up completely.”

Tornado smiled sadly tears in her eyes.

“You better not get seriously hurt then,” Tornado croaked. “Or I’ll be really upset that we never got to.”

Green Arrow gave Tornado a reassuring smile.

“I’ll do my best, Young Iron,” he said warmly. “I would hate to miss out on you growing up and experiencing the world.”

Tornado gave a small half-hearted giggle.

“You make me sound like a child,” she smiled, humour in her voice.

“Well, you’re more like a teenager these days,” Green Arrow mused and this time Tornado laughed.

“I guess that I technically am a teenager now if we go by human years,” she giggled. “But seriously, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Please, please be okay Arrow.”

“I will try my hardest, Tornado,” Green Arrow said kindly. “You have my word.”

Tornado smiled back but there was worry deep in her eyes. Green Arrow would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid.

There was a grand sense of dread and tension that hung over them. They heard the King Edwards arguing with each other over something but it was the least of their concerns right now.

“Do you think Mallard knows we’re coming?” Tornado asked Arrow concerned.

“Without a doubt,” Arrow said. “But I don’t think he anticipated the Great Westerns.”

“They’re a funny lot,” Tornado mused. “Pendennis and Truro seem so nice compared to the Twin Kings.”

“Ah, that’s because Pendennis and Truro have been away from that railway for a long time and have calmed down with the whole ‘Great Western Way’ thing,” Arrow explained. “Stick around one of the Great Western Society’s holdouts for long enough and you’ll soon get a faceful of uptight perfectionism nonsense.”

“I see,” Tornado mused.

She glanced at the doors of the Castle’s workshop nervously.

“I just hope we’re in time to save Truro,” she said and Green Arrow gazed shifted to the doors with her.

“We’ll soon see Tornado.”

~~~

"Gone?! What do you mean he's gone?!" Olivia snapped at her Doctor. "He was unconscious!"

"Yes, ma'am but when his nurse went to check on him his bed was gone and all the observation equipment was turned off!" Doctor Hendrick spluttered putting his arms up.

Olivia wanted to punch something, anything. First North had up and disappeared without a trace but now Flying Scotsman had simply gone now too.

She turned away from Hendrick and stared out of the window at the engine sheds. Her mind wandered to Gordon and speculation began to brew in her mind.

~~~

"Flying Scotsman?"

City of Truro was confused. The famous engine had been brought by Alan Pegler. He was now a private engine, no longer under the tyrannical grip of British Railways.

So why was he sitting in Barry's scrapyard with no tenders?

The engine looked frightened and terrified. There was none of that ridiculous pomp and circumstance of the LNER engines. No yelling at Truro or calling him an outdated piece of scrap.

They weren't friends. Most definitely not.

Truro hated the Scotsman with a burning passion. The young foolish upstart had dared to take his record from him. His record! He was the first engine to go 100mph, not this hideous galloping sausage!

His attention turned back to the Scotsman who was whimpering and crying as quietly as he could. The City of Truro approached him hesitantly.

Although he did not like the engine, it was clear that the Scotsman was in distress.

"Flying Scotsman?" Truro asked again and this time the A3 Pacific glanced at him.

"I always knew it was too good to be true!" Scotsman choked. "I knew it ever since Saint Mungo was sent for scrap it was only a matter of time before I was too!"

Truro frowned. The A1 Peppercorn was supposed to have been preserved. He hadn't and the poor young engine was dragged screaming and shrieking into the scrapyards.

It had been truly despicable how the poor thing had been treated. Saint Mungo hadn't been privately owned, however.

"You are privately owned," Truro pointed out. "I doubt Mr Pegler would be pleased if his prized engine was accidentally scrapped."

Scotsman ignored him.

"You'll get your wish I guess," Scotsman said bitterly. "Soon I won't even be around to defend my 100mph run. You win. How grand for you."

Truro frowned. "Do not joke about such things," he said sternly. "Our argument and hatred for one another is nothing compared to the threat of scrapping."

"Don't pretend to care about me Western!" Scotsman shouted at him angrily. "You would like nothing more than to see me smelted down to molten iron!"

"I wish for no such thing!" The City of Truro snapped. "I do not like you! I think you are a stupid, arrogant and completely idiotic engine yes! But I do not want any engine to be scrapped!"

"Yes, you would! You've done nothing but try to slander my name, you filthy Great Western!" Scotsman hissed angrily. "You've said it yourself in the past! That I would be more useful if I was melted down and turned into railway tracks!"

"I do not care about a stupid record when another engine's life is on the line!" Truro snarled. "An engine's life is more important than a record Flying Scotsman! That includes yours!"

Flying Scotsman glared at the smaller engine who simply matched his glare and stared back at him.

"If you're quite done being a ridiculous fool, I intend to pull you out of this scrapyard and take you back to your owner," Truro declared, his angry gaze never leaving the big A3 Pacific who just gazed at him, his cheeks stained wet with tears.

Truro moved tracks to couple the engine to him. He coupled the front of the engine and began to pull him out of the scrapyard silently. Scotsman said nothing, avoiding the gaze of his sworn enemy. The Scotsman was surprisingly a lot lighter than he thought that he would be.

For a little while, they travelled in complete silence, the awkward tension between the two vicious rivals until they stopped near a signal box in Barry where Truro’s driver went to talk to the signalman.

Wanting to break the awkward silence, Truro voiced a concern.

“Just how did you get this far West anyway?” He asked genuinely confused. “Wales is too far a place to come here by accident. Cardiff is too far South for a LNER engine like yourself to accidentally be misplaced.”

Scotsman looked away, a look of fear flashed in his eyes.

“Someone stole my tenders and dragged me here,” he croaked out trying to hide his fear. “I don’t know who it was, they dragged me backwards the entire time… I- I think someone wants me dead. I- I actually thought it was you.”

Truro looked extremely offended.

“Me? Me!” Truro snapped insulted. “The very nerve of you to think I would do something so reprehensible!”

“I couldn’t think of anyone else who hated me so greatly!” Scotsman defended. “Except my older brother but… look I don’t know! I’m scared alright! Someone stole me from Mr Pegler and tried to have me scrapped! So forgive me for jumping to conclusions!”

Truro paused and observed the bigger engine. He was desperately trying not to cry and he looked shaken up and terrified beyond belief. It was a side to the engine that Truro guessed people rarely ever saw.

“I would not do something so horrid,” Truro assured the other engine calmly. “I know we have our differences, our problems with each other but even then, I would never do something so vile as this. I pride myself on being an honest and faithful engine as is the Great Western Way.”

Scotsman just stared at the ground hopelessly. He was clearly distressed.

“Who cares about the Great Western Way? Who even cares about the LNER or even the LMS right now?” Scotsman said bitterly. “Entire classes of engines are going extinct left and right, what’s the point? I got sent for scrap, despite my record, despite being Sir Gresley’s favourite! We all worked our hardest but… we’re all going to die anyway!”

Truro was shocked. He’d heard some of the other engines say the same things but from the LNER’s poster child, their golden calf, it somehow suddenly hit him all at once.

“I believe…” Truro ventured. “That there is hope.”

“There isn’t any,” Scotsman said coldly. “Don’t be stupid Great Western. Open your damn eyes.”

“My name is Truro.”

“Whatever.”

“You were saved by people who loved you and wanted to save you. Your LNER saved me when my own railway didn’t want to ‘waste money’,” Truro smiled. “There are humans out there who respect us and want to save us.”

“Where were they when my brothers and sisters died? Or when the Peppercorns became extinct!” Scotsman snapped. “Why can’t you see what’s happening to us Great Western!”

“Truro,” the engine insisted. “My name is Truro.”

“SHUT UP!” Scotsman suddenly shouted his voice ringing through the nearby trees. “SHUT UP DAMN YOU!”

Silence fell around them as Scotsman desperately held back his tears but failed miserably. He began sobbing, frightened and scared like a child.

“Just… take me back to the scrapyard where I belong,” Scotsman whimpered in a quiet voice.

“No, I’m not going to do that,” Truro declared quietly. “I’ll take you to Swindon and ask the museum owners to shelter you there if I have to.”

The Flying Scotsman said nothing, he just continued to avoid Truro’s gaze.

“As much as I dislike you,” Truro stated. “It’s clear that you have people who adore and love you. You are an important piece of history, not just for the LNER but I think railways across the world. It would truly be a shame if you were to be lost.”

Scotsman hesitantly looked at Truro who was giving him a small genuine smile. Scotsman just gazed at his buffers, unable to think of something to respond with.

The two engines sat silently until Truro’s driver came back.

“Pegler’s furious that Scotsman was taken from his sheds,” he said to the two engines. “We’ll take Scotsman to Swindon and Pegler himself will come down to meet him.”

“Do they know who stole Scotsman?” Truro asked. His driver frowned.

“They don’t know for sure but it’s a bit suspicious that Mallard suddenly had the extra tender that Pegler build for Scotsman,” the man said and Scotsman began scowling angrily. “Mallard says he found it in a siding but others are not so sure.”

“That greedy, arrogant, nasty brute of an engine!” He spat angrily. “He was mocking engines that were sent to the scrapyard! He was practically gleeful that my siblings were sent for scrap! It was him who sent me here! It must have been him! He’s always been nasty towards me, calling me useless and insulting everything I do!”

Scotsman had no steam but Truro knew that if he did he would be fuming and hissing steam to no end.

“Mallard,” Truro mused. “A very unpleasant engine from what I have seen.”

“He cares for nothing except his ridiculous record!” Scotsman hissed and Truro smirked at the irony there.

“Much like you and I with our arguments?”

Scotsman froze and looked back at Truro. He wanted to argue otherwise but knew he couldn’t.

“Well…uh… I guess you could say that,” Scotsman mumbled his face flushing red.

“It’s gotten old by now, I’m sure the other engines are tired of us arguing,” Truro pointed out. “In light of what has happened, shall we agree to stop such pointless arguments as there are more important things in the world? It does not mean we have to be friends but… I would like to put to rest our differences. No matter what we say, there will still always be people who argue in our favour anyway.”

Scotsman stared at his buffers for the longest time before looking back up at Truro with a nervous smile.

“Alright,” he said awkwardly. “Lest we end up like Mallard.”

“A fate truly worse than death,” Truro remarked and Scotsman fought back the urge to snort laughter.

~~~

Flying Scotsman jolted awake as he felt someone poking him in the ribs. He looked up to find a well-dressed lady sitting next to him on the train seat trying to rouse him.

“We’re almost at Vicarstown dearest Scotsman," she said with a kind smile.

He sat up, pushing himself off the wall of the carriage he was leaning against.

It was a curious experience, being a passenger on his own train. Braunton had been the one pulling the train, he'd wanted to say hello but Lady had advised against it, saying he might be recognised.

He glanced at Lady who was gently helping him sit up. Her presence was warm and it filled him with strength, her Gold Dust wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. It had eased him into another sleep where his memories came to the forefront.

"Is that your doing?" He asked the woman. "My memories of Truro and the scrapyard?"

Lady shook her head.

"You're worried about him," she said. "Inevitably you will dream of those you worry for the most. But it may also be Truro calling out to you."

Scotsman gazed at her confused.

"Calling to me?"

"Truro's connection to Gold Dust is stronger than most, much like yours," she explained. "That and the both of you care and love so deeply for one another. A deeper connection between you means that no distance will ever separate your souls."

Scotsman smiled slightly.

"He is everything to me," he said softly. "We've been through hell and back together."

"I know," Lady smiled admiringly. "Every time you talk about him, you smile."

"He makes me happy," Scotsman said simply. He looked out of the window beside him as the train began to slow, seeing the roofs and buildings of Vicarstown begin to appear.

"I want to save Truro but North if I can too," he muttered and Lady nodded at him.

"We can only do our best Flying Scotsman," Lady assured him. "That is all we can ever do in the end."

~~~

Chapter Text

17 - Great Western Trouble

Truro had not seen Flying Scotsman since that fateful day at Barry where he had stumbled up the famous express engine in the Scrapyard, terrified and alone.

From what he had heard, Mallard had been so severely punished that they had declared him to be put into preservation and took his freedom saying that he would never steam again.

The miscreant had been found out to have done a similar thing with some other engines which had resulted in an engine, slated to be preserved, ending up scrapped.

The name of the engine had been withheld but no matter. The outcry from the engines had been so fierce that the directors had had no choice but to take Mallard's freedom from him.

Truro, despite not seeing Scotsman as a friend, found himself worrying for his friend as his owner had gone bankrupt and the famous express engine had been stuck in America under threat of being scrapped.

"So City of Truro, what do you think? You once saved him from scrap. Is the Flying Scotsman worth spending the money to come back to England?" A man named Sir Alpine had asked the Great Western.

"Without a doubt sir," Truro answered honestly. "I may not like the engine but he is an important part of the history of the United Kingdom Railway’s sir. Please consider bringing him home."

"Interesting," the man said. "I asked a few of the other engines and they told me you would say no. Leave him to rust."

"Sir! Please do not listen to the heresy of such engines!" Truro huffed offended. "They do not speak for me! And if they said such things then they certainly do not know me as well as they think they do!"

The man seemed satisfied and left with a mysterious smile.

A couple of months later, Truro was delighted to learn that the Scotsman was returning home.

"I don't see how you of all engines are eager to see the overrated engine again sir," 2516, the Dean Goods engine scoffed, eyeing the excited engine curiously. "Last time I saw the both of you, Scotsman threatened to derail you and have you turned into iron girders."

"Times change 2516," Truro mused. "And life is too short to have grudges."

"Suppose so," 2516 grunted. The smaller engine went to return to napping beside the bigger famous Great Western as he anticipated seeing the LNER's most famous son.

He wondered, just why he was so eager to see the engine. They weren't friends and they certainly had no love for one another.

Maybe he was just happy that the Scotsman had been saved from scrap once again.

"Pathetic…" the voice hissed near his smokebox and Truro flinched and immediately pushed it away as it suddenly felt like cutters torches being dragged along his boiler.

Truro grit his teeth and ignored the pain. If he gave in, the Black Smoke would take him, it would smother him and rip his soul from his engine.

He had to remain strong. The first sign of weakness and Mallard would crush him. Break him into nothing.

"You've been struggling for days now dearest Truro," Mallard's voice whispered uncomfortably close. "Just let go, be at peace, let yourself rest."

"No," Truro hissed through the pain and the rising fear. "I refuse."

He forcibly pushed Mallard's consciousness away from him and the A4 snarled and hissed, the black smoke spitting and churning around his mind like a flock of hungry vultures waiting to strike.

Truro's soul reached out and clung to the memories that made him who he was, made him stronger.

The Flying Scotsman appeared before him, the top of his boiler and cab ruined and damaged from the wind, rain and sun. He looked completely exhausted from his trip to America but he was alive and he was intact.

"Flying Scotsman," Truro had greeted the weary engine. "You look quite terrible I'm afraid."

"I had to get here under my own steam," the A3 complained, his voice flat and completely worn out. "I would have rather they taken me here on a lorry and covered me in a tarp. Everyone saw me like this, it's undignified."

"Still, the point still stands, you are back and you are in one piece," Truro pointed out. "I would consider that a grand win."

The Scotsman looked at Truro surprised.

"You sound like you care about me, Great Western," he remarked and Truro smiled.

"That's because I do," Truro declared brightly. “Believe it or not, I’ve come to respect you.”

Scotsman raised one of his eyebrows at him.

"Why though? We've hated each other for so long and now you think we're suddenly best friends because you pulled my tenders out of a scrapyard?"

"Oh don't be so vulgar," Truro scoffed. "And if I remember correctly, you had no big fat tenders at that moment."

"First of all, thanks for noticing," Scotsman retorted. "Second of all, my tenders are not 'fat'."

"They do make you a great deal heavier to shunt," Truro pointed out and the Scotsman looked offended. "I wonder why you didn't take one off during the Great Race. You would have had a lot more speed."

"I'm a big engine! I need a lot of coal and water!" He argued and Truro just smiled. "You wouldn't believe the lack of coal and water in America! I was lucky to even make it to some places with two tenders! And besides, they are a mark of my distinction from other engines!"

"Well, dear Scotsman, despite your distinction, you are quite 'small' compared to those across the pond," Truro pointed out and Scotsman's cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

"Yes, well," Scotsman coughed embarrassedly. "They need to be bigger see, it's a different environment. The distance between stations is greater."

"Of course, of course," Truro said not buying into Scotsman's explanation. "So will you be giving the second tender up now that you don't need it?"

"Ha! If you think you have a chance of getting it, think again!" The Scotsman laughed. "I'm not giving it up and even if I was you certainly couldn't handle such a big tender! You're a great deal smaller than me Great Western and I only let big engines couple with my tenders."

"Well, now that just sounds like a challenge to me," Truro smirked. "And I feel the need to remind you that my name is Truro."

The Flying Scotsman gave a snort of mirth.

"Alright, Truro," he said mockingly but Truro just smiled, not hearing any maliciousness in his tone as he had once done.

"Tenders aside, I am genuinely glad to see you back on home soil," Truro pleasantly insisted. "You are one of our iconic engines. And I mean that. It is good to have you back."

Flying Scotsman paused. He was about to be snarky but then saw the genuine look of relief and appreciation in Truro's eyes.

"Thank you, City of Truro," the A3 said. "I appreciate your words of kindness. It's been a very long journey."

"So it has," Truro agreed.

The Scotsman moved off to the workshop leaving Truro to watch him go.

After the A3 disappeared he glanced over at 2516 who was staring, slack-jawed and bewildered. Clearly, he had seen the entire conversation.

"What in the name of Mr Collett was that?!" He asked, completely shocked.

"I was welcoming Flying Scotsman home, nothing more," Truro assured the little engine. "We may be rivals but that doesn't mean I have to be unpleasant."

"Sure sir, sure you were," 2516 said and Truro glared at him annoyed. "Welcoming him home indeed sir."

2516 promptly shut his mouth very quickly after he saw Truro's face turn murderous.

"I won't say a word, sir," the little engine squeaked.

"Good," Truro's voice came sounding threatening and nasty. "Spreading rumours is not the Great Western Way is it now?"

"No sir."

~~~

"This won't work," Scotsman implored Lady as they left the ticket booth at Vicarstown. "Ms Olivia will find out soon enough. She'll notice that one of her cards is missing."

"Then we have to be quick," Lady smiled. She handed the Scotsman the ticket to Ulfstead Castle. "This is for Connor's train."

He noticed there was only one ticket.

"You aren't coming to Ulfstead Castle with me?" He asked and Lady shook her head.

"I am required elsewhere," she smiled and the Scotsman began to panic.

"I thought you said that you needed my help to fight Mallard!" The Scotsman said annoyed before pausing and he began glaring at her. "I'm bait. You're using me as bait."

Lady nodded, her golden eyes filled with mirth.

"What about North? Why can't you use him?"

Lady shrugged and smiled, infuriating the Scotsman.

"I came here to rescue Truro!" He fumed. "Not be a part of your games, Lady!"

"You can leave anytime," Lady motioned to the train back to York. "You have your own free will."

The Scotsman glared at her. He couldn't leave Truro, she knew that he wouldn't go even if forced.

"What the hell am I supposed to do when I get there?" Scotsman snapped angrily.

"You'll know," Lady smiled and Scotsman grew even more infuriated.

He was about to start yelling when Lady embraced him suddenly, her hug firm and warm.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I have to be so deceptive," she said mournfully. "But if I tell you what needs to happen, it won't happen."

Scotsman just stood there silently, unable to react.

"I'm not asking you to trust me, Flying Scotsman," Lady explained pulling away from him. "I'm asking you to trust yourself. You'll know what to do, I have complete faith in you."

"That makes one of us," Scotsman said bitterly. He looked at his feet as Conner's whistle sounded in the distance.

Lady reached up and cradled his face in her hand.

"You are compassionate, clever and loyal," she assured him. "There are people and engines on the other side of the world who love and cherish you. Never forget that. No matter what anyone says or does."

"It doesn't always feel like it," Scotsman mumbled as a gush of wind whooshed them as Conner glided into the platform. "I don't even know why Truro pulled me out of that scrapyard sometimes."

"You are the people's engine, not Mallard. Even Truro saw that while detesting you," Lady said with a firm grip on his shoulder. "I think if you ask him, Truro did respect you greatly despite you constantly antagonising each other in the beginning. You'll find a way to each other, I'm sure."

The Scotsman gave a shaky sigh before nodding at the Lady before him. She was pretty, like her engine, all scarlet with golden jewellery, she almost looked like royalty and she gave off a golden glow.

"Alright," Scotsman said shakily. "For Truro."

Lady smiled at him and nodded. He stared at her apprehensively before turning heel and boarding Conner's train without another word or a glance back at Lady.

~~~

Mallard watched the struggling City of Truro with impatience.

It had been over two weeks, no other engine he had attacked and drained of Gold Dust had barely lasted over a few days let alone a week.

The older ones like the Rocket or the Stirling Single had put up a fierce fight but at the end of the day, he had crushed them into submission and drained them dry and severed their souls from their now dead shells.

The humans were easier to control, their nervous systems made for perfect conduits for the black smoke to use and control like puppets.

He didn't quite understand it even now, after almost decades of honing and figuring out how their small wet soft bodies functioned. However now he could direct them to engineer him to steam almost perfectly.

It was quite delightful, having a puppet to be precise and to drive him exactly as he wished. He shouldn’t have had to resort to this but once Cain had been exposed it wouldn’t take long for the woman, Olivia Gresley or Henry Stainer to quickly figure him out.

Taking Green Arrow’s voice had been a mistake. As soon as that weak-willed driver of his had revealed his name to authorities, he now had to act quickly and in desperation. He didn’t even care if he drained the Golden Well dry, he needed to restore his soul.

However, the Well at the castle had been sealed shut and those who had access to it were far beyond his reach.

He hadn’t anticipated Truro being so powerful but it would at least sustain him until he could get Flying Scotsman, Sir Gresley’s most successful experiment with Gold Dust.

He looked over and saw the mountain engine, Godred, whimpering, two of his puppets standing over him as the stupid thing wailed quietly.

He did consider taking its gold dust too if Truro finally fell, but there was nothing of value. It appeared that its soul had also been corrupted by black smoke, something which Mallard was not wanting.

It still had gold dust, but it was tainted.

The fastest steam engine in the world did not settle for anything less than the purest of gold dust directly from the source.

A shame that it the purest of the stuff dwelled within the weakest and most overhyped engine in the Gresley fleet.

Flying Scotsman.

The damn engine simply refused to die. At every turn, almost every single time Scotsman got close to being scrapped and his soul there for the taking, fate somehow intervened and saved the stupid engine.

Mallard glanced over at Truro with a scowl on his face.

"This would have ended long ago if you hadn't just kept to your own Great Western business," the engine hissed.

He stuck out at Truro's consciousness violently and found himself in another of the little engine's memories.

The black smoke around him hungered and stretched itself out to search for the gold dust. It found the weak and battered soul of Truro, barely clinging desperately to its engine, the memories the only thing keeping it anchored.

Mallard frowned and hissed steam as he once again saw Scotsman in the memory.

It was undignified. Going after and consorting with an engine from the Great Western Railway. Gresley's did not mingle with such filth.

The black smoke struck out at Truro again, the canister in his cab churning violently. It tried to grab at Truro's soul but what was left of the engine's gold dust swarmed to defend it, shielding the soul in a brilliant bubble of light that burnt away and seared at the Black Smoke attacking it.

Mallard snarled in shock at the sudden flash of light. He was tired of this endless cold, this emptiness the black smoke drowned him in. Even when his firebox had been lit after literal decades, it had down nothing to warm him.

Perhaps that was why he sought out so many engines. Their struggles, their brief attempts to struggle against him as he drained their gold dust, warmed him and made him feel alive again.

Curse Thompson and his attempts to kill him. His ridiculous attempts to tarnish his designer's name one last time. To render Mallard soulless and unable to achieve his record ever again.

What better way to destroy Gresley's legacy than by putting restraints on his most prized and recognised engines?

First Great Northern and now the man had turned his sights towards Mallard. Gresley's finest and most powerful steam engine.

Mallard growled to himself at the thought of Great Northern, the puppets flinching, their tiny human minds registering that he was angered.

Great Northern had refused him. He had rejected him.

That had probably hurt more than Thompson taking his soul. The thought of the Grand Great Northern labelling him as just another one of those ‘ugly toasters’.

Mallard sat there fuming for a long while, his hatred stirring for the long-dead A3 Pacific.

Even when he had proved himself, North had insulted him, had dismissed him, his focus always on his older cousin.

It infuriated him.

His attention was drawn away from his spiralling thoughts and to the doors of the exhibition space opening and three large Great Western Engines rolling forward to meet him.

He gazed at them shocked before a smirk played across his face. He drew the Black Smoke within himself to hide its presence, like a snake, waiting to strike. Two of the engines were glaring at him, the other was staring at Truro and looked terrified.

An easy target to strike.

“My, my, my I must have caused quite a stir now,” Mallard smirked viscously. “What did Lady Olivia do to convince the Didcot Railway’s finest to come to this dump of an island?”

“Lady Olivia did not ask us here,” King Edward the First boomed in a commanding voice. “That Peppercorn did.”

“Blue Peter?” Mallard questioned feigning ignorance.

The Blue King Edward glared at him, “You know exactly who sent for us, Mallard.”

Mallard chuckled. “Quite. I wasn’t expecting this from her. Last time I met the girl she was a simpering and quivering coward of an engine.”

“She was brand new,” Pendennis Castle scolded. “You can’t expect a new engine to be as confident as an established one.”

Mallard gazed at Pendennis Castle curiously. The engine’s attention was caught between Truro and Mallard and he seemed to be holding in his panic.

The engine wasn’t as well composed as his City counterpart or the Twin Engines that stood beside him.

“Indeed,” Mallard agreed. “I’d say that you’re lacking a lot of confidence right now, Pendennis.”

“We’re not here for small talk Mallard,” The Second snapped angrily at the Blue A4. “Release City of Truro this instant or there will be consequences!”

“You can have him back certainly,” Mallard flashed a charming grin at the blue engine. “After I’ve drained his Gold Dust and not before.”

“No!” Pendennis snapped back angrily. “We won’t let you destroy our precious Truro! You will have every single Great Western Engine after you for taking out our leader!”

Mallard just laughed at that.

“Oh I wouldn’t say every Great Western,” he retorted before looking at the First Twin with narrowed eyes. “I suspect that there are those who would like to see Truro gone.”

The Second frowned and glared at Mallard.

“Enough with these deceptions and lies!” He snapped angrily. “You dare speak ill of Great Western Loyalty!”

“Ha! Great Western loyalty!” Mallard scoffed. “Then pray tell, Blue, why did it take so long for you to organise this little rescue mission? No doubt, Lady Gresley would have warned and tried to rally Great Westerns to rescue Truro the second I took him hostage. Why move against me now? Two weeks later? Was someone perhaps hopefully waiting for him to die before then?”

“Well would have moved the second we knew!” The Blue King Edward shouted at Mallard angrily. “Stop this nonsense and release Truro!”

Mallard looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before glancing at the green King Edward.

“You don’t look so sure, Green,” he observed and the First frowned at Mallard.

“The politics of our railway do not concern you, Gresley,” he finally said after a brief pause. “Release Truro this instant.”

“Certainly, it does not concern me,” Mallard mused. “But if Truro was to die, I guess one of you would get to replace him. One might want to withhold that information if one had it.”

“What do you-” The second suddenly went stiff and he glanced over at his brother.

The tension in the room suddenly became electrifying as the Second narrowed his eyes into a glare at his brother.

“Why did Director Stainer come to Didcot a week ago brother?” He suddenly asked him, his voice deadly quiet and low.

The Green King class frowned at his brother. “That doesn’t concern the situation at hand-”

“You knew!” The Second suddenly snarled at his Green brother. “You knew that Mallard had Truro and it took Tornado telling the rest of us to finally force your hand!”

A vicious smirk spread across Mallard’s face as the twins suddenly began to turn on each other.

“Truro has not been part of the Great Western Railway for a long time!” King Edward I suddenly shouted angrily. “He has no right to be our ambassador to the public ever since the LNER bought him!”

“Truro is Great Western no matter his owner!” The Second argued angrily. “The Great Western Railway no longer exists! By that logic, none of us is Great Western!”

“He allowed himself to be swayed by that fat waste of an engine Flying Scotsman! It is disgusting the way that those two interact! How dare he claim to uphold the Great Western Way when he consorts with that filth! He disgraces the memory of the Great Western Railway!”

“Stop it!” Pendennis shrieked. “Stop this! This is getting us nowhere!”

Pendennis suddenly pressed forward towards Truro who sat in front of him and touched buffers, coupling to him and beginning to try and pull him free.

“Pendennis don’t!” The second suddenly shouted as Truro’s wheels creaked and strained, the clamps on them refusing to budge.

Within seconds, Mallard unfurled the Black smoke within him and it swarmed the Castle class engine who immediately tried to back away from the attacking smoke however, his coupling to Truro held him firm.

“Pendennis!” King Edward II shouted but he was on a separate track and couldn’t help the now panicking engine as the black smoke made its way into his funnel and boiler tubes, racing to his firebox and searching out for his soul.

“Help me!” Pendennis shrieked in complete terror. “Blue help me! It’s destroying me! Stop it! STOP IT!”

Immediately King Edward II steamed forward and barged into Mallard who only laughed at him.

“Release Pendennis immediately!” He demanded furiously.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Mallard hissed back. “He’s not as strong as Truro but he’ll do for a nice snack.”

“I’m warning you-” King Edward II snarled, ready to forcibly derail Mallard if he had to.

He was cut off however as the piercing and shrieking sound of metal being torn suddenly echoed through the exhibition hall making all of the engines flinch at the sound.

They looked over and found Pendennis suddenly being pushed back by the City of Truro who was moving with no crew, no steam. Gold Dust hovered around him in a faint cloud and his barely open eyes gazed at Pendennis kindly.

Pendennis stared at Truro before him in complete and utter shock.

“Truro? How-” There was the sound of heavy chunks of metal and the spokes of Truro’s wheels being bent and warped as he strained against the clamps on his wheels.

“Truro stop! You’re going to damage yourself!” Pendennis shouted. “You shouldn’t move without your crew! Truro!”

“It’s okay…” came Truro’s weak and frail voice. “Go. Leave.”

“Truro!” Pendennis begged but suddenly he felt himself being backwards as someone coupled to his tender and pulled him out of the exhibition centre, the Black Smoke darting out of his boiler, letting go of his soul and swarming over Truro like a cloud of hungry locusts, devouring the Gold Dust around him.

Both King Edwards quickly followed in a state of panic, the sounds of confusion and yelling all around them as they evacuated the exhibition hall.

Pendennis rounded on Green Arrow who had been the one to pull him out.

“You stupid idiot! We were so close!” Pendennis yelled at him but the V2 engine looked unconvinced.

“You almost died!” Green Arrow shot back. “Truro just gave himself up for your stupidity! You weren’t meant to pull him out! What were you doing? You were supposed to stick to Tornado’s plan!”

“Well, the Twins were supposed to convince Mallard to make a deal,” Tornado argued. Her gaze turned to King Edward I who looked indignant and furious. “But I wasn’t expecting Green to want Truro dead.”

“You’re a monster!” Blue spat angrily at his brother. “How could you!? Truro is our ambassador! Our Leader! Why would you betray him like this? Are you that stuck up your own smokebox!”

Green snorted angrily and hissed steam at his brother. “Unlike you all, I am not blinded by the celebrity status of that reprehensible engine!” He shouted back.

Before Blue could argue back Sir Robert stepped in.

“That’s enough!” He yelled, silencing both engines. “The both of you are dismissed! You will leave the castle and your crews will separate you!”

“Yes sir,” the twins said in unison before leaving without a single word or even a glance at each other.

Sir Robert and Henry Stainer turned to the remaining engines.

“Sirs I must go back!” Pendennis pleaded. “There still might be time to save Truro! His soul was still intact!”

Henry Stainer surveyed the engine. Despite his brief encounter with the Black Smoke, Pendennis was clearly shaken and frightened. His wheels were trembling and his face was deathly pale.

“No Pendennis, you’re in no state to perform. You should go and find a shed to rest in,” Stainer said and Pendennis looked ready to argue.

“But sir-”

“I will not have any arguments, go,” Stainer ordered pointing at the castle gates.

“Ye- yes sir,” Pendennis said reluctantly. Before he left he looked up at Tornado regretfully.

“I’m sorry I failed you, Tornado,” he apologised but Tornado gave him a small smile.

“It’s okay Pendennis,” Tornado assured him. “You did your best.”

Pendennis tried to smile back at her but failed miserably and quickly left without another word, leaving Green Arrow, Tornado and 5025 sitting outside the museum and a dark cloud of despair hanging over them.

“If this doesn’t work, Truro will die,” 5025 said grimly. “We’re relying on Green Arrow of all engines to pull this off. The one who went to pieces when he thought Scotsman was possessed by a ghost.”

Green Arrow scowled at the Black 5.

“I know now it wasn’t a ghost,” he stated firmly. “At the time I didn’t know what Gold Dust was. I was scared, alright.”

5025 rolled his eyes. “You’re still a slimy coward even if you pull this off.”

“Stop harassing Arrow!” Tornado snapped. “This isn’t the time to bring up past grievances!”

“Quite right,” Sir Robert agreed. “We don’t know how far along Truro is or even if his soul is still fused to his engine. For all we know, Truro could be gone already.”

“We have to at least try,” Green Arrow insisted but Tornado looked worried.

“Are you sure?” She asked concerned. “You saw how shaken Pendennis was and he’s not easily frightened at all.”

Green Arrow’s face showed a look of fierce determination.

“I’m willing to try anything for a friend, Tornado,” Green Arrow said confidently. “You more than anyone should know that.”

Tornado blushed red deeply and gave Arrow an embarrassed look.

“Yes, yes you are,” she acknowledged.

“Well then,” Sir Robert said looking pensive. “Are we ready to try Tornado’s second plan?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well then Arrow, release your breaks and let Tornado winch you into position,” Sir Robert ordered.

“Yes sir!” Arrow said, releasing his breaks and allowing himself to roll forward into the exhibition hall. “Wait! Stop! Stop!” He suddenly yelled.

Arrow gave a sharp jolt as Tornado stopped the winch abruptly.

“What is it?!” She asked confused.

“There’s someone on the tracks before me!”

Sir Robert and Henry Stainer stared at each other before running to look. The figure staring down Green Arrow looked away from the V2 engine before gazing at the Earl and the Chairman.

“Great Northern?!”

~~~

“Explain to me how you lost two of my engines?” Roman Gresley growled as he glared at his daughter.

Olivia steeled herself and held firm against her father's disapproving gaze.

“First of all, they are not your engines they are Grandfather’s,” she retorted angrily. “And two, you do not own them, the museum owns Scotsman and the Society keeps North’s remaining pieces.”

“Don’t talk back to me child,” Roman growled and Olivia flinched.

“I am not a child,” Olivia snapped back angrily. “You have no hold over me. Especially when you were a disgraceful father who did nothing but abuse me!”

“I am your father! You will do as I say!” Roman shouted angrily.

“I’m not your servant or slave!” Olivia shouted back. “You’re just a worthless playboy who only married into our family for the money! Our mother deserved so much better than a fat, useless waste of space like you!”

“How dare you!” Roman stood from his desk immediately, hand raised to strike Olivia who flinched but held firm.

Olivia grabbed his arm and twisted it until it hurt him causing Roman to yell in pain.

“Release me at once!” He yelled but Olivia refused.

“I’ve had years of driving engines and dealing with nasty men like you,” Olivia snapped angrily. “Yet I always came on top and taught pathetic little man-children like you a lesson. Now, you tell me where my engines are or I’ll let Gordon know to release all those juicy details of your underground dealing to the police!”

“You wouldn’t dare sell your own father out for a pile of metal!” Roman shouted.

“Considering a pile of metal showed me more love and compassion than you ever did in your pathetic life, I think I would!” Olivia hissed in his ear. “Now where did Scotsman go!?”

“I don’t know!” Roman grunted angrily. “He and some lady just managed to convince one of the servants to drive them to York!”

“Some lady?” Olivia creased her brow in confusion. She released Roman and he whimpered pathetically before falling back in his chair.

“Stupid girl,” Roman spat at her. Olivia simply wiped it off her waistcoat and looked down at him.

“Yet this stupid girl became one of the most respected engineers in the United Kingdom while you don’t make a cent of my work,” Olivia mocked him. “You just sat on your ass your whole life while people showered you with money.”

“You’re a peasant,” Roman said angrily. “You and the rest of that working-class scum.”

“Yes well, you better hope that you can work, because very soon you won’t have the fortune to wipe your ass on,” Olivia smirked. “Goodbye father, if I never see you again it’ll be too soon.”

With that, Olivia turned her heel and left. She did however pause before the door and turned back to him.

“You’re not invited to mine and Oscar’s wedding by the way. But I doubt it matters since you’ll be in jail very soon,” she said with a wide grin. “Tell the police investigators Gordon sends your way hello from me!”

With that, she left and shut the door carefully behind her, the sounds of sudden rustling and panic echoing through the other side of the door.

She found Oscar waiting for her in the corridor looking worried.

“What’s the matter?” She asked.

“I went through your purse to check if anything was missing, I found it pulled out of the cupboard and on the floor of our bedroom,” he said deeply concerned.

“It was?” Olivia asked confused.

“Yes, one of your credit cards is missing,” Oscar said. “You should check your account just in case.”

Olivia pursed her lips as they hurried down the corridor.

Even though she hadn’t checked, she had a good idea of who and what had happened to her card.

“Get Sir Nigel Gresley and Gordon ready for the rails and tell the railway controllers to leave a path free!” she ordered some servants. “I feel like we’re about to make a very fast trip across the country.”

~~~

When Scotsman disembarked from Connor’s train and onto the Ulfstead Station he was extremely surprised to find Pendennis Castle sitting at the platform with a small green Great Western Saddle Tank.

“Pendennis?” He asked approaching his friend but he was ignored.

As he got closer he realised that Pendennis looked frightened and terrified beyond belief.

“Pendennis what’s wrong?!” He rushed towards the scared engine with deep concern.

“Oi clear off will ya!” The Green Saddle tank shouted at him. “Can’t you see he ain’t in the mood for you damn tourists and your damn photos!”

Scotsman ignored the saddle tank and went right up to Pendennis and climbed a top of his running boards.

“Pendennis?” He asked as he stared concerned at his face. Pendennis finally acknowledged him and glance at him. Pendennis suddenly stiffened as he looked at Scotsman’s human form.

“Do I know you?” Pendennis asked confused. “Why are you familiar?”

“It’s me, Flying Scotsman,” Scotsman explained. “What’s going on? Why are you here? Where’s Truro?!”

To hell with keeping the gold dust and this form a secret. There were things far greater at stake right now.

Pendennis seemed wary of Scotsman’s words.

“Truro’s up at the castle in the new museum, Mallard has him,” Pendennis said shakily. “Mallard attacked me, I don’t- I tried to free Truro but he-”

Scotsman nodded in understanding.

“Attacked you how?” Scotsman asked. “The Black Smoke?”

“Yes, yes it was… horrible, it was like, I can’t-” Pendennis mumbled before shutting his eyes and winching. “It was- It was just a wave of pure anger, hatred and- and- loneliness. I can’t explain it. It was like it was trying to get my soul to join it but in the worst way possible. It was just awful. But then suddenly, Truro was there, he was helping me and drawing it away.”

Scotsman stared at Pendennis Castle as a realisation suddenly came over him as Pendennis looked saddened and frightened.

“I tried to save him, Scott,” Pendennis said weakly. “I couldn’t- The Twins got in the way, Green he- I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Scotsman assured Pendennis with a gentle touch to his smoke box. “Everything will be okay, I promise old friend.”

Pendennis seemed to calm down and quieten down at Scotsman’s words.

The green saddle tank just watched on confused and bewildered at Pendennis’s sudden change in behaviour.

“What in the hell did you just do to him?” He asked concerned. “Who the hell are you?!”

Scotsman ignored him and stared up at the Museum in the distance.

“I’m the Flying Scotsman and I am ending this,” Scotsman declared and made his way up to the museum leaving a very confused Trojan to stare at him.

“These fucking Gresley’s and their bullshit,” Trojan muttered angrily to himself. “I swear to Collet.”

~~~

Chapter Text

18 - Ple yn y tywyllwch (A plea in the dark)

“What are you doing here?!” Henry Stainer rounded on the man who had appeared on the tracks before Green Arrow. “Why aren’t you at Gresley Manor?”

“Forgive me Mr Stainer, but I had to stop Scotsman from foolishly coming here and putting himself in danger,” the man said with a slight bow. “But knowing my brother’s tenacity, he will still find his way here.”

“Brother?” Green Arrow asked. “Are you Great Northern? Are you that arrogant prick that did nothing but act like a complete tosspot to everyone?”

“What’s going on?” Tornado’s voice came from behind. “Is everything okay?”

“Just hold that winch for now Tornado,” Sir Robert said.

“Okay, Sir Robert.”

“Great Northern come off the tracks please, Arrow does not have his breaks on,” Sir Robert said as he motioned for the well-dressed man in black to move.

“Yes sir,” the man stepped away from the tracks and into the space so he could be seen by 5025, Tornado, Arrow and their crews.

5025 snorted steam in dry humour.

“Of all the A3 Gresley Pacifics that could have also survived, it had to be you,” the Black 5 sneered at the red-haired man. “Why not someone like Singapore or Donovan?”

North frowned but didn’t answer the Black 5’s taunts.

“It was very foolish of you to come here,” Sir Robert chastised him. “I’ll have you sent you back to the Gresley’s Manor right away.”

“No,” North argued. “Scotsman knows what’s happening. He’ll do anything to get here and save Truro. If Mallard thinks I am Scotsman then he will have no reason to go after him.”

“Mallard has Godred, Godred knows what Scotsman looks like, it won’t work,” Sir Robert contended. “You came here for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” North reflected, his posture sagging slightly and a look of shame fell across his face. “I- I have reason to believe I know the reason why Mallard is targeting Flying Scotsman.”

“We already know all this!” Green Arrow suddenly snapped. “We’re wasting time here! Truro doesn’t have long! Go back and crawl into your hole, Great Northern!”

“I have a history with Mallard, I think, I can at least buy time, or give myself in exchange for Truro,” North insisted.

Sir Robert looked unsure, Stainer looked confused and Green Arrow looked furious.

“You had a history with everyone on the LNER!” Arrow snapped angrily. “There was a reason why we called you ‘The Tyrant’ back in the day!”

5025 gave a soft hum of agreement.

“Lord North of the North East, became a beast, whenever the points didn’t swing his way,” the Black 5 proclaimed. “The Express Freighters used to gossip about you to us when they came through LMS lines, how very unbecoming.”

North’s face turned red and he turned away from the grand LMS engine embarrassed.

“I am, not proud of how I acted in the past,” he muttered quietly.

“Yes, I’m sure Mr Thompson gave you a reality check, didn’t he? The other A3’s sometimes used to complain about you to us and the A3s never talked to the V2s, no, that just wasn’t proper! Talking to the ‘filthy goods engines’,” Green Arrow said sarcastically. “Can we just boot this idiot back to his hole and get on with this?”

“Yes, I quite agree,” 5025 huffed. “This charade has gone on long enough.”

North grunted in disagreement and turned to Sir Robert.

“Sir, I must insist,” North implored the Earl. “I know Mallard, I know why he may be doing this. I have, loose ends I’d like to tie up. And If anything, I could at least get some information out of him sir.”

Sir Robert glanced at Mr Stainer who looked equally as confused and at a loose end. They both turned to Tornado who was watching the entire interaction silent and mystified.

“Tornado, this is your plan what do you think?” Sir Robert asked the Peppercorn.

“I’m um not sure what’s going on,” she admitted. She looked down at the man who was calling himself Great Northern. “Who is this?”

North approached Tornado and gave her a slight bow of respect.

“My name is Great Northern and I am Flying Scotsman’s older brother,” North introduced himself to her.

“He’s never mentioned you to me,” Tornado retorted looking down at him curiously. “He talks about a lot of his siblings but I’ve never heard him talk about a Great Northern.”

“Ah yes well he wouldn’t,” North gave a sad chuckle. “Arrow and the Black 5 are correct, I was not exactly the kindest of brothers to him. Or to anyone for that matter.”

Tornado stared down at the man. He looked incredibly exhausted and his eyes were full of regret and sadness.

“How do you know Mallard?” Tornado asked. “Apart from being his cousin of course.”

“It’s complicated but,” North looked away from the Peppercorn towering over him shamefully. “I think my actions caused Mallard to target Flying Scotsman for most of his entire life.”

Tornado frowned at him.

“Did you send Mallard to harass Scotsman?” She asked and North shook his head.

“No, it’s hard to explain but I can say this,” North informed her quietly his head bowed. “Mallard will most like be more interested in me than he is Truro.”

Tornado stared at the man before moving her gaze around the room to stare at those present before looking back at Great Northern.

“Are you working for Mallard?” She asked and North shook his head.

“Mallard wants me dead even more than he wants Scotsman dead,” North explained. “But before that, I owe Mallard an apology for the things I did in the past. Even if I am not part of your plan, I would at least like that opportunity.”

Tornado frowned and stared down at the man for a long moment.

“Alright Great Northern, here’s how this is going to play out,” she said sternly and North nodded to the Peppercorn.

“As you wish,” he acknowledged.

~~~

“Have you ever pulled a train before?” Duck asked incredulously as Lady of Legend backed into her consist with a loud bang and a huge jolt that bumped the coaches so hard they yelped in pain and some of the passengers yelled out startled.

“Of course I have!” Lady of Legend sniffed angrily. “And I don’t need some snotty like tank engine like you to tell me what to do!”

“Tydfil!” Came the loud voice of Lady of Legend’s driver, “The Pannier Tank is right! You could damage the coaches by being so rough! This is not our Railway and if you damage the coaches you will get Didcot into trouble!”

Lady of Legend, or Tydfil, simply hissed steam in response and pouted childishly. Her crew looked extremely annoyed and apologetic at Duck.

“We apologise, she’s very new,” they said but Duck looked unimpressed.

“A few years old is not ‘new’, Duck confronted them. “Most engines are usually broken into their work in the first few months.”

“Ah yes well, the Twin King classes are, very protective of the young lady you see,” the driver said apologetically. “She’s only pulled light passenger trains.”

Duck frowned.

“City of Truro would not approve of that,” Duck scolded. “The Great Western Way demands we work our hardest, do our utmost to finish our jobs to perfection and respect those around us. This engine has not been taught anything. She would do well to learn if she wants the respect of others.”

Tydfil glared at Duck. “You don’t boss me around you stupid little tank engine! I’m a very special engine and you’re just a shunter!”

“On the contrary, I run the Little Western Branchline which you are currently on, I can just as easily take you off passenger trains and have you run goods engines with my friends if I so wish,” Duck snapped angrily. “Now I’ll not hear anymore of that talk back from you or I will put you on a coal train to Ffarquhar Quarry, is that understood?”

Tydfil looked ready to argue but the look from her crew made her reconsider.

“Yes,” she said bitterly.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir.”

Duck smiled, pleased that at least something was sticking in the spoiled brats' smokebox. He was about to direct her to set off when a large dark blue engine approached the both of them.

“Blue King this small tank engine is harassing me!” Lady of Legend shrieked at him trying to lurch forward but she was coupled to the coaches and pulled them forward with an enormous jolt, causing still boarding passengers to fall over and loud yelling from behind.

“Mind the coaches!” Duck shouted at her. “You could have seriously injured one of your passengers!”

Tydfil ignored him, her eyes pleading to the approaching King Edward II who was looking most unamused and didn’t seem to be in the mood for anything.

“The Pannier Tank is right young Lady,” he said sounding exhausted. “You could have hurt one of your passengers and hurting our passenger is not the Great Western Way.”

“I want to go back to Didcot!” Lady of Legend shouted at him. “All the people here are rude to me and the engines are just as awful!”

King Edward II stopped and frowned at her, clearly very, very annoyed with her before looking back at Duck.

“I apologise for behaviour, this is not how a Didcot engine should act,” he said to the tank engine.

“It’s not how any Great Western Railway engine should act either sir,” Duck pointed out. “I apologise for talking back but I need to uphold the reputation of the Little Western. I am proud to have one of the most efficient and comfortable branchlines on the Island of Sodor sir!”

The corner of the Blue King’s mouth twitched into a slight smile.

“You must be Montague,” he said and Duck blushed.

“You know me, sir? And I uh, prefer the name Duck, sir,” He said with an embarrassed smile.

“City of Truro talks of you often, the little Pannier Tank in charge of his own little railway,” The Blue King explained and Duck’s face turned a deep red.

“I am King Edward the Second, or as most call me the Blue King,” King Edward II introduced himself.

“Yes sir, I know of you sir, you’re famous! It is an honour to meet you, sir,” Duck gushed and the Blue King gave him a wide smile.

“The pleasure is all mine, Duck.”

The Blue King looked back at Lady of Legend who was still pouting like an insolent child.

“You are acting disgracefully, Tydfil,” he told her. “Speaking ill of the engine in charge of this railway and putting your passengers at risk. I understand this is partly my fault for keeping you sheltered but I wish to remedy that.”

He looked at Duck again.

“Duck will double head this train with you,” he said, “Seeing that it is his train he will be well acquainted with every part of it. When this run is finished, he and his crew will judge your performance. If it is not up to par, there will be consequences.”

“Blue this is unfair!” Tydfil yelled at King Edward II. The bigger king class did not look phased at all instead he frowned and glared at her.

“My brother and I have been soft on you for far too long,” the Blue King snapped at her. “You will learn the Great Western Way or you can be stored in a shed for the next month!”

Tydfil looked completely shocked and tears filled her eyes.

“You’ve never yelled at me before,” she sniffed but the Blue King looked unfazed. “I thought I was a princess, you don’t yell at a princess. You’re treating me like Pendennis and that stupid ugly green worm treats me and I HATE IT!!”

“I do not wish to deal with your childish antics girl,” he said coldly. “I am not in the mood to deal with you. You will answer to this Pannier Tank or there will be consequences.”

The Blue King looked over to Duck who looked shocked at Lady of Legend’s reaction. Just how sheltered had this engine been? It was acting like an engine fresh out of the works, not one that had been around for many years.

“Please do not too be soft in your critique of this engine Duck,” King Edward II ordered. “I want to know just how much we have failed her.”

“Yes sir, I’ll be sure to be completely honest sir,” Duck answered.

“Good,” the Blue King gave him a small thin smile. “Carry on then Duck.”

“Yes sir.”

He looked at Lady of Legend who looked completely indignant and sulky, ready to throw a tantrum.

This would be a most unpleasant trip.

~~~

"Sir, may I make a request?" Truro asked the NRM director, Richard.

"Of course Truro, what is it?"

"May I see Flying Scotsman sir?" He asked tentatively.

"Flying Scotsman is being prepared for his Australian Tour," Richard chided the engine. "He will not have time."

"Please sir I just want to ask him about travelling overseas," Truro insisted. "I only wish to gain an understanding of what to expect."

"You will be going to the Netherlands, not America," Richard pointed out.

"Please sir," Truro had a desperate look in his eyes and he seemed extremely anxious. Richards noticed this and grew concerned.

"Are you afraid of travelling overseas Truro?" He asked and the engine gave him a nervous look.

"Yes sir, I am sir," Truro admitted. "I am petrified beyond reason, sir. I can't explain it."

"I could ask King George to speak with you," Richard offered but Truro didn't look convinced.

"No sir, I don't know King George that well," Truro explained. "I don't think he'd be able to help me."

"Alright Truro," Richard smiled at the engine. "I'll make some time for you to see Flying Scotsman."

"Thank you, sir," Truro gave the man a sigh of relief. "I appreciate this sir."

Truro winched as what felt like cold spears of ice pierced through his subconsciousness and into his very soul.

He was losing. Mallard was getting closer.

His efforts to save Pendennis from Mallard had broken his shields down just briefly but it was enough for Mallard to get a slight hold on his soul.

He felt the tiny nails pulling on his gold dust, slowly chipping away at his grip on his engine. He was slowly losing his strength.

He shrieked as Mallard's mind touched his own, filled with thoughts of anger and hatred.

"I was supposed to go to Australia!" his voice thundered in Truro's smokebox. "I was supposed to go to the Netherlands but you both stole my position! How dare you! How dare you!”

"It's not my fault!" Truro shrieked. "You failed your boiler test! They sent us as a second choice!"

"I don't care!" Mallard roared and suddenly pain exploded in Truro's mind and he screamed in pain.

He was distinctly aware of the black smoke bounding on what remained of his gold dust, trying to snuff it out like a candle. It felt like red hot iron prongs slicing through his smokebox, stabbing him repeatedly.

It took all of Truro's strength to simply not give in and just be swept away in the cold, unforgiving tide.

"Helpwch fi," he breathed desperately slipping into his native tongue as he felt himself losing this battle. "Os qwelwch yn dda rhywun yn fy helpu!"

As if prompted, the Flying Scotsman's voice whispered deep in his mind. Truro clung to it desperately.

"Scotsman," he breathed. "Scott helpwch fi! Os gwelwch yn dda!"

As if in response he felt his Gold Dust surge and give him strength, at least enough for him to get his bearings.

Mallard seemed surprised and he felt the A4 withdraw his mind slightly as if looking around for Flying Scotsman.

He felt something warm touch his smokebox and he flinched in surprise. It wasn't unpleasant but it was strange.

Truro gelt a little of his strength return, enough that the pain lessen slightly and the amount of Gold Dust in his soul grew suddenly.

"What is this?" Mallard hissed angrily but then he suddenly froze. "It's you. But how are you here!"

Mallard's mind immediately left Truro's mind leaving the engine deeply shaken and weak. He could feel the tears that had fallen from his eyes and slipped down his face from the sheer pain and fear he had felt.

He tried to open his eyes but he felt too weak, too far gone. He barely had any energy left in him.

Mallard's attention was elsewhere for now but the Blue engine would soon return his attention to Truro and he knew that when he did, it was game over for him.

Truro began to silently cry. He didn't want to die alone, terrified and in pain in the presence of a cruel and unforgiving engine like Mallard.

"Os qwelwch yn dda," he pleaded to no one in particular hoping that someone, anyone could hear him. "Os gwelwch yn dda rhywun yn fy helpu!"

"City of Truro," Flying Scotsman's voice sounded close, so close.

"Scotsman," Truro whispered. "He's going to kill me. Please."

Again, he felt a warm touch against his smokebox. He felt himself calm slightly.

"Why if it isn't City of Truro!" Flying Scotsman's booming voice cut through his anxieties and he flinched startled.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the NRM's workshop where workmen and women were going about seeing every single inch of Flying Scotsman was up to scratch.

"Indeed," Truro saw the past version of himself steam towards the Scotsman who sat in the middle of the workshop like a proud hen in the middle of a nest, a smug smirk plastered across his dumb face.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the 'unofficial record holder'?" The Scotsman said snidely and Truro rolled his eyes at him.

"I wanted your advice," Truro said hesitantly. "Or rather, your account of what it was like to go overseas."

Scotsman looked at him curiously. Truro was keeping a tight lid on the fact he was scared of going overseas but somehow, Scotsman could tell he was frightened.

“I think if I tell you what it was like, it may make your anxiety worse Great Western,” Scotsman explained hesitantly looking at the engine concerned.

City of Truro’s face fell and he looked away from the big LNER engine, ashamed of himself.

“Perhaps it would be better if another engine were to take my place,” Truro said quietly. “Perhaps Pendennis Castle-”

“PenPen has been in Australia for the past decade,” Flying Scotsman pointed out.

“Oh, I apologise,” Truro felt his face blush with even more embarrassment. How could he have possibly forgotten the absence of his friend? “My mind is, my mind is preoccupied. I am sorry for bothering you.”

Truro went to leave but Flying Scotsman rolled forward to close the space between them.

“Wait,” he called to the Great Western. “What’s so troubling to you about travelling overseas? Maybe I can help?”

Truro halted and looked up at the bigger LNER engine nervously. He wasn’t sure how to explain it.

“I- I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “I’m anxious because there are so many things that could go wrong. What if I get lost? What if- what if-”

“What if you get left in another country and forgotten about?” Scotsman asked.

Truro gave a shaky gasp and looked up at the big green engine.

“Yes, I didn’t want to mention it but what if I get left in the Netherlands?”

“Well you’re going to be representing Great Britain and the National Railway Museum, it would cause an outrage if our representative was to be abandoned by its owners,” Scotsman assured him. “And you know something?”

“What is it?” Truro asked.

“Despite being abandoned in America and left in a siding for the weather to destroy me and for children to throw rocks at I really would regret it if I never went,” Scotsman gave Truro a reassuring smile. “I met so many friends, I bonded with Mr Pegler and I had the best time of my life. I saw things that I’ll never forget and as much as I joke that everything is so oversized for compensation over there, their engines are truly impressive.”

Truro still didn’t say anything, incredibly nervous and still anxious about what could happen. He stared at the floor of the workshop until he felt Scotsman lightly bump into his buffers as a show of reassurance.

“It’s alright to be frightened,” Scotsman assured him with a kind, soft smile. “I was petrified before going to America and to be honest, I’m terrified of going to Australia too.”

“You are?” Truro asked looking up at the other engine.

“Yes, but I know it’ll be worth it,” Scotsman smiled. “If we don’t go out of our comfort zone once in a while then we’ll miss out on all the world has to offer us, you know? We could miss out on the experience of a lifetime.”

Truro gave an anxious sigh but he knew Scotsman was right.

“I suppose you’re right,” Truro said with a brave smile. “I am still nervous but… I feel slightly assured.”

“I’m glad,” Scotsman beamed at him. “You’ll be fine Great Western. If Pendennis Castle can have fun in his mine in Australia then you can make it to Europe.”

“It would not be right for a Great Western to abandon a job that was asked of him, especially a job to represent Great Britain,” Truro theorised.

“Well look it another way, if you dropped out and they had to bring someone from the LMS to replace you, that would simply be disgraceful,” Scotsman huffed. “Think about it, those Midlanders representing our railways? That simply won’t do.”

Despite himself, Truro laughed.

“Quite so,” the old engine chuckled. “No LMS has the finesse of a Great Western, those Europeans will laugh at us.”

“There you go,” Scotsman grinned widely seeing the fear disappear from Truro’s eyes. “Don’t you let those LMS chaps get one over you, I’ll never let you live it down.”

Truro smiled up at Scotsman. “Tell Pendennis that we miss him dearly when you see him?”

“Of course, Great West- Truro,” Scotsman corrected himself and Truro’s smile grew even wider.

“We’re going on a name basis now are we?” Truro smirked. “Does that make us friends?”

“Last time we met you were looking at my tenders,” Scotsman pointed out. “Kinda rude if you ask me.”

“Everybody notices them you bloody twat! They’re hard to miss!” Truro defended. “It’s hardly my fault they’re all over the place!”

Scotsman gave a dramatic gasp.

“Dear me, City of Truro just swore at me!” he loudly complained drawing the attention of the workers. “How very un-Great Western of him.”

“Oh, I’ve called you much worse things you big green idiot, stop being dramatic!”

Flying Scotsman only pouted at him like a child. “City of Truro’s being mean to me!”

“Don’t get me started on you, there are so many things I could call you, you know,” Truro huffed annoyed.

Scotsman just chuckled with good humour.

“I know, I’m just teasing,” the A3 Pacific smirked and Truro rolled his eyes at him. “I expect to hear all those good things about your trip to the Netherlands when I return from Australia.”

“Only if you return from Australia,” Truro shot back.

“Deal,” Scotsman grinned brightly. “I’ll come back only if you don’t chicken out of your Europe trip.”

City of Truro smiled at him. “Very well Flying Scotsman, you do indeed have yourself a deal.”

~~~

Mallard sensed Flying Scotsman’s presence nearby, drawing him away from the weakened Truro. He’d been angry, he’d panicked when Truro had started to move on his own, damaging himself by attempting to break the clamps on his wheels.

The Great Western was close to dying but he knew that if Truro died then there would be an even less chance to bait Scotsman in. He ordered one of the NRM board members under his control to remove the Black Smoke canister from Truro and replace the clamps.

The Black Smoke had bit and snarled at him but Mallard pushed it down and bent it back to his will. It had decades to overcome and master the Black Smoke. He was not going to let a moment of weakness let him lose his ultimate goal.

He drew the tendrils of black smoke in close to him and kept a vigilant eye out for anyone, engine or human. He was dimly aware that Truro was softly whimpering and crying next to him but he was ignored. There were far more concerning issues to be concerned about than a feeble and crying old man.

Once again the doors of the exhibition centre opened and an engine slowly made its way through, its wheels turning jerkily and not as smooth as they should. It was being shunted perhaps but regardless, its brakes were not on.

Through the darkness, he saw the outline of an engine behind the intruder. He smirked. It seemed Tornado had a lot more tricks than just calling in an envoy of Great Westerns to bully him.

What a clever girl.

She reminded him of his elder brother. An engine of many tricks and didn’t always appear smart but was often very guile and witty. Maybe she’d be the same when she grew older. He hoped so. It gave him at least a little comfort.

He recognised the engine she was winching as Green Arrow and a cruel, viscous smirk stretched across his face. Green Arrow didn’t flinch, he just glared at Mallard, his eyes full of hatred and loathing.

It took a second for Mallard to notice the human standing on board Green Arrow’s buffer beam staring at him. He reached out with the black smoke slight to try and get a read on the man’s Gold Dust if he had any.

He suddenly frowned in confusion.

The Gold Dust felt like Flying Scotsman’s but something was different about it, like it was Scotsman but not quite. He had felt this engine’s presence before.

“What is this?” He asked confused, narrowing his eyes to try and get a better look at the man. He suddenly flinched violently as he realised who it was. “It’s you. But how are you here!”

The man steadied himself on Green Arrow’s buffer and frowned at him.

“Hello Mallard,” he said gruffly. “It’s been a while.”

“You were supposed to have been scrapped long ago!” Mallard thundered furiously. “Why weren’t you, you waste of iron! Why couldn’t they save any other engines’ soul but yours!”

“Because life is unfair Mallard,” the man said. “I suppose you think you’d know all about that wouldn’t you?”

“You spurned me!” Mallard shrieked. “I did everything I could to try and be your champion but you instead always went for the underachiever. You were always so blind, Great Northern!”

Great Northern sighed and shook his head.

“I will admit, I was wrong about you,” he admitted quietly. “I saw you as just another upstart. Another engine who was just trying to prove Flying Scotsman a fake or undeserving of Gresley’s favour. But you proved me wrong. You proved a lot of people wrong.”

“Yet you never acknowledged me still!” Mallard shouted angrily at him. “I admired you! I wanted to please you but you were always fawning over your stupid little brother!”

North stared at Mallard for a long while sadly.

“You put your faith in the wrong hero Mallard,” he told the furious blue engine sadly. “I wasn’t someone you should have looked up to.”

“I don’t need your approval anymore,” Mallard snapped. “I don’t need Sir Nigel’s approval either. I don’t need anyone’s approval!”

“Is this why you kept targeting Flying Scotsman?” North asked. “Why you tried to have him scrapped several times, why you always harassed him, even when Merlin told you to stop-”

“Kept his name out of your filthy mouth!” Mallard suddenly shouted angrily at North. “Don’t you dare talk about him!”

“I apologise, but you must understand,” North implored the A4. “One of the reasons I rejected you was because of your horrendous treatment of my younger brother. I would not willingly cause harm to him.”

A small snort came from Green Arrow and North glared at him. Green Arrow returned his gaze.

“You did nothing but cause harm to him from what I’ve heard,” Arrow pointed out. There was some sudden tension on the winch behind Arrow, signifying that Tornado was giving him a warning to still to the plan.

Mallard turned his attention to Arrow.

“I see you have your pretty little voice again Green Arrow,” he said with a snide grin. “How lovely. I missed the chaos it brings to the rails.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have fooled that stupid girl into taking it then,” Arrow hissed at him. “I tried to befriend you! I took pity on you and this is how you treat me!”

“I do not need the pity of a weak little engine like you,” Mallard said dismissively. “Or an engine like Scotsman.”

“Clearly not,” Arrow spat out angrily. “No one in their right mind should pity you after all the awful things you’ve done. You’re a monster.”

Mallard just smiled at the V2 sweetly.

“You’re much braver than Pendennis Castle,” he cooed at Arrow who winched and looked at him disgusted. “I’m shocked. The cowardly Green Arrow actually standing up to someone for once. How cute.”

“I’m not doing this for me, I’m doing this for my friend Truro,” Green Arrow snarled. “You can go to hell for all I care.”

“My dear Arrow,” Mallard whispered softly, almost to himself. “I’m already there I’m afraid. I’ve been there for a very long time.”

“Ever since you killed your brother?” Great Northern asked and Mallard suddenly looked both hurt and furious.

“How dare you,” Mallard hissed, his voice dangerously low. “How very dare you bring up-”

“If I give my soul to you in exchange for the City of Truro will that be enough to satiate you for the time being?”

Mallard stared at Great Northern shocked by both the offer and the previous allegation he had made. If he gave up Truro, it most probably meant that Flying Scotsman would be out of his reach but he would have gained an even greater prize.

Great Northern.

He sat there for a long while, staring down at North before glancing back at the weakened Great Western. Truro was nearly gone, that last attack had pushed him almost to the point of no return. The Black Smoke would linger, even if he recovered. Truro had spent too much time in close proximity to Mallard for it not to.

The opportunity to lure Scotsman in would come again. The glance to have Great North at his mercy might not.

“Very well, Great Northern,” Mallard said with a devious smirk. “You strike a tough deal but a deal nonetheless.”

“Wait WHAT?” Green Arrow cried out shocked and confused. “Just what the hell makes Great Northern so important to you anyway?!”

Mallard grinned at him and released a threatening amount of Black Smoke from his boiler which Arrow’s face paled at the sight of.

“Enough!” North shouted angrily at Mallard. “Leave Green Arrow alone and free City of Truro or I will call this off!”

Mallard’s grin fell slightly but he obliged.

“Remove the clamps from Truro,” he ordered before rounding on Arrow. “Take your little friend before I change my mind. Or before he dies.”

Green Arrow held Mallard’s gaze with his own before calling Tornado to winch him to couple to Arrow. Not once did he take his eyes off Mallard. Before calling out to Tornado to winch the both of them out Green Arrow took a long final look at Mallard.

“You know, I really did want to be your friend Mallard,” he said quietly. “Not because you were famous or because I admire you, but because I heard how awfully all the other engines talked about you. I thought it was horrible but in the end, I guess they were right about you.”

Green Arrow then tore his gaze away from Mallard before giving Tornado the command to pull himself and Truro out.

Mallard and North heard loud shouts and men rushing to haul Truro safely, the commotion echoing in the exhibition hall before the large doors shut behind them, leaving Mallard, Great Northern, Godred and Mallard’s puppets in tense silence.

“Well then, Great Northern,” Mallard began humourlessly, the smirk and devious nature disappearing from his face and being replaced by a cold and dark hatred. “I hope you know that I’m going to make this as painful as possible.”

If North was scared, he didn’t show it.

Instead, he just stared up at the great blue engine looming over him.

“I accepted my fate long ago Mallard.”

~~~

Chapter Text

19 - Sacrifice

~~~

"What the hell you doing Green?" Trojan grumbled as he sidled up to the big King Class. "Did you really go off on Truro in front of the Blue Cheese Wedge?"

"That's King to you filthy shunter," King Edward I hissed at the saddle tank. "And shunters do not speak to royal engines."

"Oh shut up will ya?!" Trojan barked at the bigger engine. "No one cares about the fact you pulled a royal train anymore! You sound like one of them bloody Gresley's acting like they got gold in their tenders and up their bloody boiler tubes!"

The Green King just gave Trojan a venomous glare of pure hatred.

"Why'd you do it?" Trojan still challenged ignoring the glare. "Why'd you be willing to let Truro die? Why'd you willingly abandon the Great Western's most famous engine? You jealous of him or something?"

"Enough! I do not have to explain myself to a tiny little engine like you!" King Edward I spat angrily. "You do nothing but shunt and be a nuisance on the railway!"

"Maybe you ain't gotta explain stuff to me but Pendennis is gonna want answers after he finds his wits again," Trojan pointed out. "Not to mention your brother looked completely furious. I doubt he's going to buy any excuse of yours. He's one of Truro's biggest fans."

The Blue King ignored Trojan now, simply steeling himself and staring ahead of him.

Trojan whooshed out some steam in frustration and tutted annoyed.

He was getting tired of the Green Kings' attitude. He hadn't given the Blue King anything as the engine looked distraught and in extreme distress as he had raced away from the castle towards the West.

He may not have liked either of the King Edward's but at the very least Blue had the decency to care about the Great Western's indomitable symbol of strength.

"You gonna even ask how Pendennis is?" Trojan asked gruffly. "He was badly shaken and nothing shakes him up."

The King Class said nothing, only ignored Trojan but the little saddle tank could see the regret and concern in his eyes. He at least had the decency to be concerned he supposed.

"You better hope Truro's gone or you're gonna be in some real shit there friend," Trojan snapped bluntly before steaming off in a puff of angry steam. "I'd hate to be you right now, your shameful majesty!"

King Edward I said nothing, merely staring after the little saddle tank as he mumbled something about going off to find another engine named 'Percy.'

He didn't care for Truro but he did care for the other Great Western's interpretation of him. He cared for them but doubted they'd see it that way once word spread of what happened.

He'd think of something to regain the trust of the Great Western's, he had to. He was a royal engine after all. They couldn't deny him.

~~~

The Stationmaster of Vicarstown wasn’t a small or measly man by any means. He’d had his fair share of dealing with drunken late-night and angry, boisterous passengers. He had to deal with annoying idiotic people who just wanted to complain about literally nothing. He’d also had to deal with Sir Topham whenever there were problem engines.

Despite all this, he’d never had to deal with a very angry 6’5ft well build woman and Director of the NRM who had stormed his office demanding to know if a strange man dressed in green with the Flying Scotsman’s crest embroidered on his lapel had brought a ticket at the station.

Lady Olivia Gresley was terrifying up close and personal, despite being on leave and having no authority on the Sudrian Railway, he could tell why Sir Topham generally didn’t want to piss the woman off and had even lent her his premier express engine, Gordon.

The easily 6ft woman stood over him and his desk threateningly while he and his security agent went over the footage, her assistants waiting outside while Gordon sat patiently at the platform.

Gordon was looking around nervously, desperate for any sign of his brother in the throes of the humans. He wished for Ms Olivia to hurry but she need to confirm if the person who had used her cards was indeed Scotsman and find out what train he had gotten on.

Behind him, Sir Nigel was coupled and sat patiently. The push the A4 had given him to get across the country had been enormous.

He'd never moved so fast and neither had he ever felt such remarkable power in an engine. Not that he would even want to willingly admit to being impressed by the A4 Pacific.

He could see why this A4 had earned the name of their designer. He held the same demeanour as the old man, the same quiet grace and strength. He was very unlike Spencer or Bittern and he could see why he held the position of the Royal Engine's confidant.

He was humble and straightforward, not caring for records or fame. Nor did he care about the petty fights between engines. Certainly, Sir Nigel was a lot younger than Gordon, but the soul inside this engine felt ancient and wise.

"I did not push you too hard I hope my dear cousin?" Sir Nigel asked concerned. "Ms Olivia keeps her grip tight on the regulator it seems. She is quite the engineer, I am most impressed. I haven't had such a clean run in a very long while. It felt superb."

"No, no," Gordon answered. "I may be an old engine but I think you'll find my condition is pristine."

"Quite so," Sir Nigel chuckled. "You're 100 years old yet you run better than most. Others are not so lucky. On the mainland money for us engines is sparse. One is even lucky to get a rebuild if you're not famous. Even regular maintenance can be hard to finance these days."

Gordon's mind shifted to his brother at Sir Nigel's words and he went quiet with worry and fear. Scotsman had gone missing once again and this time it was to chase after either Great Northern or Truro.

Sir Nigel had explained the relationship between Scotsman and Truro in which Gordon understood why his brother was so devoted to the domeless engine. Of course, he would risk his soul to save someone he loved and adored.

For North, however, he had no idea why Scotsman would go after him. North had been nothing but cruel to his brother and from what Scott had told him, had been willing to let Gordon himself be defiled and rebuilt in exchange for himself.

There was no love for Great Northern from either of them.

Had Great Northern tricked Scotsman into following him and luring him to Mallard? Just why had the bitter old man even bothered to save Scotsman? Had he really changed over the years since his engine was scrapped?

He just didn't understand.

Nothing made sense anymore.

"Hello," a lady's voice suddenly spoke right next to him and he jumped slightly, startled. She giggled at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," he told the pretty lady in scarlet and gold. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

"About your brothers?" She asked and Gordon stared at her shocked.

"How did you know that?" Gordon asked warily. This woman could have been sent by Mallard, trying to get a hold of his brother. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"I am Lady," the Lady smiled. "I'm an engine like you. Except small and magical."

Gordon just raised an eyebrow at her.

"No offence but I don't believe you," he scoffed and Lady just smiled.

"That's okay, I don't expect you to," she beamed at him.

The woman's beaming smile unnerved him and so he looked away from her and instead decided to watch Rosie shunt some coaches for Rebecca.

"You!" Olivia's voice thundered through the station, startling Sir Nigel, Gordon and the passengers around them. Gordon looked over and found the tall woman storming over the station towards the Lady who had spoken to him.

Despite the impressive statue of Olivia, the young lady wasn't at all phased or the very least didn't show it.

"Where is Scotsman? Who are you and how did you get into the manor without anyone noticing?" Olivia demanded of the petite lady.

"My name is Lady ma'am," Lady gave Olivia a little curtsey. "Lady the magic engine. I'm the guardian of the Gold Dust. I appeared in the manor because Scotsman agreed to help me."

"Help you? Do what exactly?"

"Defeat Mallard of course!" Lady said brightly.

"My brother went to Mallard!?" Gordon cried out suddenly panicked. "No! He's going to get hurt! We have to stop him! Ms Olivia!"

Lady ignore Gordon and stepped towards Ms Olivia, grasping her arm gently before she could climb back onto Sir Nigel’s footplate. Olivia immediately tried to pull away from her.

"Get your hands off of me!" She snapped, clearly at the end of her tether and tired. Dealing with this strange young woman was the last thing she needed right now.

"It's okay," Lady said soothingly. Golden light glowed in her eyes and she gently smiled at the taller woman. "Everything will be okay. I trust Scotsman and you should too. Scotsman's compassion has no bounds, it will save him."

Olivia seemed to strangely become calm at Lady's words and she seemed to be under some kind of strange calming trance.

Gordon and Sir Nigel just watched on in complete confusion.

"Do you remember when Scotsman gained his human form?" Lady asked. "You saved him, you grounded him by being there when it mattered for him. That act also fused you and your unborn son with Gold Dust and part of his soul. And as long as part of his soul remains, Scotsman will never die."

Olivia frowned at Lady concerned.

“What are you talking about? You keep my son out of this!” She roughly removed Lady’s grip from her and glared down at the woman. “What engine is your railway originally from? Who is your designer? Answer me!"

Lady looked at her thoughtfully before answering.

“You know, I’m not sure,” she said curiously. “I was just always, there.”

Olivia frowned and turned away from the woman.

“I don’t have time for this,” she said gruffly before moving towards Sir Nigel. One of the station workers uncoupled Gordon from the blue A4. “You can go back and report to Sir Topham now Gordon.”

“Yes ma’am,” Gordon answered, knowing that she had no intention of him going to see his controller. Splitting up to find Scotsman would save time and hopefully before he did something stupid. Which, considering it was Scotsman, was very likely to happen.

“If you can’t find him, I’ll meet you at Callan Castle,” Olivia said and Gordon acknowledged with a whistle.

The Sudrian Engine glanced at the woman who was still standing at the station patiently a pleasant smile on her face.

“You’ll find your brothers,” she said to him. “I am certain.”

Gordon just gave the woman a wary smile. Her actions confused him but she was at the very least kind and had a loving aura about her.

He gave her a nervous smile as he pulled away from the station and made his way back into Sodor, intent on finding his brother and giving the younger engine a very harsh dressing down.

~~~

Green Arrow sat next to the City of Truro, concern evident on his face as he watched over the famous Great Western engine as he sleep in the private berths at Ulfstead Castle.

The Golden domed engine was deathly silent but he seemed a lot more relaxed than he had in Mallard’s presence. The Black Smoke had done a number on him, his livery looked somehow faded and the gold trim on him did not sparkle as it should.

Thankful, any signs of the Cold Iron Sleep had disappeared and his levels of Gold Dust had started to slowly replenish. Green Arrow watched over him now, simply happy that his old friend was safe.

The Black 5, 5025 looked over them as he entered. There was no love between himself and Arrow but the big engine did have great admiration for the City of Truro as did many of the other engines.

“How is the old man?” He asked in his booming voice.

“His Gold Dust is stable,” Arrow said curtly. “He’s recovering very slowly but he is recovering.”

“That’s excellent,” 5025 grinned. “You know, I never did think much of Tornado but that girl has some real strength to her. She’s proving to be a most impressive engine.”

“Tornado was always impressive,” Arrow scolded. “You bigger stuck-up engines just never gave her a chance to prove herself.”

“Quite,” 5025 looked Green Arrow up and down. He seemed dismissive of the smaller engine but Arrow was used to it.

“You being a nasty little pest on the Sudrian Railway, Mr Envious?” He asked. “I get word of you harassing or spreading rumours about Henry and I’ll come straight over from the mainland to sort you out.”

Green Arrow gave an inward sigh and resisted the urge to yell at the Black 5.

“I don’t do that anymore,” Arrow said through gritted teeth.

“That must be hard for you,” 5025 said and Arrow started glaring at him.

“I never wanted to do that in the first place but it was the only way I could survive scrapping! I had to pull others down to even be saved!” Arrow shouted at him. “I was desperate and fighting for my life! Do you know how much it hurts when every engine you meets tells you you should be scrapped? Not like you would understand, you’ve got so many siblings left! I’m the only one left! Do you know how much that hurts? To have your entire family scrapped?!”

Green Arrow stopped as he realised he was shouting and quickly looked at Truro who hadn’t woken from the noise.

“I get it,” he ground out bitterly, “I’m not as important as other engines. I’m a goods engine who was lucky enough to also pull coaches. I kept deceiving and putting people down because I always other engines did that to me and my siblings okay? I know that it’s not okay now but, look just leave me alone alright? I’ve finally found a place where I can be happy so you can go back to the mainland and tell the other engines whatever you want about me.”

The Black 5 said nothing. He merely stared at Green Arrow with an unreadable gaze for the longest time before looking back at the City of Truro who remain silent and still.

“Why do you think Great Northern did it?” He asked watching Truro sleeping. “Didn’t he hate the Great Western’s? Especially Truro for claiming Scotsman’s record.”

Green Arrow paused but appreciated the change in topic. He could tell that 5025 was deeply uncomfortable and no longer wanted to press or antagonise him after his outburst.

“I’m- not entirely sure,” Green Arrow admitted. “Great Northern was always disparaging and nasty when talking about the Great Western Railway’s engines. He was furious when Pendennis Castle beat Scotsman in the trials. Even more so when he found out that Scotsman had befriended him and a lot of other Great Western’s. He would always rant that the Western’s had ‘poisoned’ Scotsman’s mind.”

5025 rolled his eyes. “Scotsman just makes friends with everyone he meets, he wasn’t brainwashed by them. North is a ridiculous old fool."

“North always seemed to think everything was out to destroy the LNER and tried everything to make the LNER appear to be the strongest railway,” Arrow explained. “A lot of the older engines had that same rivalry but never to the point of obsession.”

“Ah yes, I remember him calling us LMS boys nothing but a bunch of miscreant Midlanders who wished to see the LNER crumble, which, at the time I guess was true,” 5025 mused. “Maybe he did it for Scotsman. He doesn’t seem the type to approve of his relationship with Truro though.”

Green Arrow gave a brief yawn.

“Who knows? Maybe the old bastard finally grew a consciousness after all these years?” He put out and the Black 5 snorted.

“I doubt it.”

There was a sudden shutting of the door to the engine berths and both engines immediately went silent and still but relaxed when they realised it was probably just one of the workers around the castle.

“Who was that?” Arrow asked. “Was it one of Mallard’s-”

Arrow trailed off as he realised something.

“Wait a second, those humans Mallard had a hold over, some of them looked like,” Green Arrow mumbled to himself.

“What are you going on about?”

“Some of those humans looked like the old directors of the LNER before British Railways took over. I thought most of them were dead by now,” Arrow muttered curiously. Concern filled his boiler. He was sure that Mallard had a reason for doing so

“Probably Mallard just stroking his ego by being the one to control those who controlled him,” 5025 said dismissively. “I only came to check on Truro. I’ll be off to say goodbye to Henry and the others.”

“Right,” was all Arrow said as he watched the LMS Black 5 reverse out of the berth without so much as a friendly smile.

Green Arrow didn’t care. His mind was blank.

Just why had Mallard gone to all the trouble to find or resurrect the old directors of the LNER? What could they have possibly done for Mallard to put in such a huge effort to find them?

He sighed and looked over at Truro who still stood silent and still next to him, completely asleep to the world.

He hoped beyond hope that this would be the end of it.

However, the realistic part of him knew that it wouldn’t be.

~~~

Great Northern looked away from the huge blue engine that now watched over him like a hawk. He looked over and saw the humans under the control of the black smoke.

They looked completely blank, their eyes were lifeless and their skin deathly grey and not at all natural.

He walked over to the closest one who stood still and silent staring at North but not seeing him at all. The man was short and rotund and looked incredibly familiar. North looked closer but then his eyes widened as he realised who it was.

“Mr Berkeley?” He asked, surprised and shocked. “But he died many decades ago.”

“He’s still dead,” Mallard noted amusedly. “Just preserved and a puppet to my will.”

North looked around at the others, recognising more of them.

“Mr Sutcliffe, Sir Marwood, Mr Walsworth,” North muttered their names as he recognised them his dread growing.

“Do you like them?” Mallard asked gleefully. “I hope you do because it’s what I’m going to do to you very soon.”

“Why? Why did you go to all the effort of hunting down the old Directors? What was the point of this?” North shouted at Mallard. “They had families! They deserve to be laid to rest!”

“I had a family too!” Mallard suddenly fumed at North. “And these men took him away from me in favour of you!”

Great Northern froze and he slowly turned back towards Mallard who was now glaring at him, his gaze filled with hatred and fury.

“So that’s what this is about,” North said.

“I didn’t know I was going to lure you here,” Mallard admitted. “I wanted Scotsman, as he has enough Gold Dust to power a railway. Enough to give me peace from this madness for at least a little while.”

“I assumed you would have wanted me because I rejected you,” North proclaimed. “And I gave myself up because I knew that you wouldn’t resist destroying another A3 not because of what happened to Merlin."

“That idiot A3 Donovan was a naïve and stupid engine,” Mallard seethed. “He was sent for scrap anyway so what does it matter?”

“The poor boy was terrified,” North pointed out. “But you killed him because he loved Flying Scotsman and was desperate to please his older brother.”

“Like I said, naïve and stupid,” Mallard scoffed. “No, I took your deal because of what you did to Merlin. I wanted revenge for him. You destroyed him!”

“I did not destroy him,” North frowned at Mallard. “It was the director's decision that destroyed him. It was also their decision to preserve you by removing your soul.”

“It failed,” Mallard crowed gleefully. “I am still alive and they are the ones who are preserved.”

“No,” North shook his head at the A4 Pacific. “You haven’t been alive for a very long time Mallard. You’re forced to leech off other engines to stay alive and that black smoke is feeding off what remained of your willpower. You may as well be dead.”

“I am!” Mallard seethed. “Ever since they took my Gold Dust I feel nothing but rage and hatred! They took what little I had! Any pleasure I had in life! All I have left is this dark cloud of smoke that makes me feel nothing but pain!”

Mallard’s voice thundered and roared in the space almost sounding like several voices were talking at once. North winched against the pain of the voice echoing in his head.

“I don’t think Gadwell or Merlin’s presence would make me feel anything even if they were here,” Mallard hissed softly. “No one bothered to help me! No one cared about me! I could drain every last engine on the face of this wretched planet and still feel nothing!”

“Yet you still feel sad at Merlin’s passing!” North said quietly.

He immediately regretted it as the black smoke raced towards him, dark smoke-like tendrils striking at him and throwing him to the ground with a painful smack. He struggled against the sheer pressure exerted on his chest and body. It felt like railroad spikes being driven into his skull and flesh, liquid ice being pumped into his veins.

“You took him from me!” He heard Mallard shrieking. “The only brother that cared about me!”

“Sir Nigel, Silver King and Whitelaw cared about you!” North grunted trying to speak through the pain and fighting the black smoke constricting his body. “There were many who cared about you! We tried to stop the LNER from taking your soul but they wouldn’t listen to us!”

“LIES!” Mallard screeched furiously. “You all conspired against me! You all wanted me to be turned into a soulless husk so I wouldn’t be a problem anymore!”

“Even Flying Scotsman tried to help you!” North pleaded with him. He felt dizzy, he was struggling to suck in air to breathe.

Without warning, Mallard released him leaving him gasping for air as the A4 gave a sad lilting laugh that sounded quite deranged.

“You need to work on your lies North!” He backed at the struggling man. “The engine I tried many times to scrap trying to help me? How pathetic!”

“It’s true,” North choked out, sitting up and massaging his neck. “Scotsman has always been a very kind and gentle soul despite my attempts to toughen him up. He wishes to help others if he can even if those others have hurt him. He saved Green Arrow. He saved Union. Hell, he even tried to save the Hush Hush! I’m sure he’ll try to save you if you gave him a chance.”

“Don’t be stupid you idiotic old man,” Mallard seethed. “Especially not now after I nearly killed his precious Truro. I can’t believe I once tried everything I could to please you. Not once did you ever show me the respect I deserved! Not even after my record!"

North frowned and glared at Mallard before picking himself up and squaring up to the A4 Pacific. He walked up to Mallard and stared him straight in the eye.

“I never showed you respect because not once did you earn it,” North said coldly.

Mallard’s expression grew furious and he gave a loud shout which sounded like a cross between a cry and bellow.

Something slammed into North so hard that he felt his feet leave the ground and he was thrown across the room and slammed into the wall opposite Mallard. He impacted the ground so hard that he suddenly lost all vision and pain exploded in one of his legs which crumpled beneath him. His vision came back after a few seconds but it was blurry and hot liquid dripped over his face.

“Mr- Mr North?” Came the squeaky voice of Godred but he was cut off by a pained yelp.

North couldn’t move as he felt that feeling of the rail spikes driving into him. Panic ensured however when he felt the warm Gold Dust suddenly begin to drain from him and be replaced by an agonising cold pain.

He attempted to struggle but his body refused to move, to do anything, it was like he’d been paralysed.

In the distance, he heard Mallard laugh. A haunting and insane-sounding laugh.

He struggled again but it was almost like the dark smoke hand made his entire body feel like concrete.

He wanted to cry as he felt Mallard suddenly reach into his mind and begin poking and prodding. His arm suddenly began to twitch of its own accord and he realised that Mallard was testing out his new lifeless puppet.

He tried to push his cousin out of his head but pain exploded in his head as Mallard struck out at him.

“You truly are no fun, Great Northern. At least Truro gave me a long and hard challenge and even then he fought down to the rails. You’re so weak! Look at all these regrets you have old man!” Mallard taunted him. “Worn down by years of sadness and depression! I’ve seen stronger insects than you!”

He struggled fruitlessly but Mallard’s grip on him was intense, he felt his body moving, Mallard flexing his arms and legs. Pain exploded in his leg as the broken limb was moved and he flinched inwardly.

Taking notice of this, Mallard began to toy with it like a sadistic, cruel child, pulling the wings off of flies.

After what seemed like an eternity in pain and his mind being crushed underneath the black smoke, Mallard suddenly left without warning, his attention drawn away by something.

North didn’t know what it was but whatever it drew both Mallard and the Black Smoke’s attention completely. The haze of pain continued for a little while, voices and noises muffled, his body feeling like it had been run over by a car at the very least, the pain in his leg almost unbearable.

Suddenly something touched him and he flinched.

“It’s okay,” a voice came reassuringly. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Great Northern suddenly felt wide away as the fog in his brain immediately cleared and he realised who it was. He opened his eyes and they took a moment to readjust. His vision was still blurry but he instantly recognised who it was.

“Flying Scotsman,” he croaked weakly, staring up at the man. Behind him, Mallard looked both furious but also had a hungry look in his eyes. “No, you- you need to leave- Scots-”

“I said it will be okay,” Scotsman said with sternness and authority in his voice that North had never heard before.

“But- but Mallard-” he insisted but his younger brother ignored him.

Scotsman instead reached over and lay a hand over North’s heart. A warm golden glow appeared and suddenly it felt as if his strength was returning to him. His vision cleared and he felt stronger, although his leg still felt broken.

The effects of the black smoke began to disappear, the biting, malicious, ice cold suddenly melting into a warm and kind warmth that eased his pain.

“Everything will be okay,” Scotsman assured North and for a second, he believed him but the presence of Mallard looming over them broke it.

“Why did you come here? Truro is safe! You didn’t need to come here!” North croaked out weakly. “Scotsman, please! Get away from here, let me-”

Scotsman frowned.

“Other people still need help North,” he chided the elder A3 Pacific.

North stared at Scotsman incredulously before looking back at Mallard.

“You can’t be serious, even you can’t help this monster,” North said coldly glaring at Mallard who sneered at him in return. "I know I said you would try to help Mallard but not like this, you can't he'll just kill you!"

“I can at least try,” Scotsman said and stood turning away from North and approaching Mallard willingly as North watched on in horror.

“You’re making a grave mistake! He’ll kill you! Flying Scotsman!” Great Northern shouted at Flying Scotsman but his cries fell on deaf ears.

"The old fool is right," Mallard laughed down at Scotsman. "I'm going to kill you. Drain all your Gold Dust and then take your engine."

Scotsman just smiled at him.

"Taking my engine won't stop the Black Smoke Mallard," he said calmly. "It will just follow you and infect my old engine. It won't free you."

Mallard just glared at him.

"I'll break you like I broke Truro," he seethed.

"Not if I willingly submit to you," Scotsman pointed out and Mallard was taken aback.

"You're- willingly to let me drain your gold dust?" He asked shocked.

No one had even approached him and openly offered him their Gold Dust before. He hesitated.

"Is this a trick?" The Blue A4 Pacific eyed Scotsman suspiciously.

The Flying Scotsman simply smiled up at him, kindness in his eyes completely unafraid.

"No trick," Scotsman assured Mallard. "You've suffered through decades of pain and I'm truly sorry Mallard. I honestly want to help you, I swear. If you think draining my Gold Dust will help you, then I am willing to try and help free you from your suffering."

Mallard stared at Scotsman for a good long moment before a truly malicious and nasty grin spread across the A4 Pacific’s face and he began laughing a horrible grating cackle.

"You truly are a big green idiot," Mallard laughed at him. “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want to be saved. I just want you to die.”

The black smoke immediately swarmed Flying Scotsman and pinned him to the ground.

"No!" North yelled as he and Godred watched horrified.

Still, Scotsman did not resist, despite the obvious pain he was in. He did not even struggle, simply allowing Mallard to invade his mind and drain his soul.

"Scotsman no! Stop!" North begged desperately but his shouts could be heard over the sound of the black smoke roaring and Mallard's cruel laughter.

"BROTHER!"

~~~

Chapter Text

20 - No. 4468

"Another A4 sir?" Great Northern asked dryly as he rolled into his designer's workshop. His eyes stared at the newest engine, its smokebox door blank, its work livery dull and grey and the serial number 1870 on it.

In front of it sat one of the Silver A4s, ready to welcome its newest sibling into the world. He had hoped it was Silver Link, as usual, the boy was a pushover and didn't complain but to his annoyance, he saw that it was the bossy Quicksilver.

Quicksilver glared at her cousin angrily as he came to a stop beside her. She was quite sick of this engine constantly patronising and demeaning her and her siblings whatever chance he got.

"I must protest Great Northern being here sir," she snapped gazing down at Sir Gresley. "Especially not when he is constantly rude towards my siblings and me!"

"Great Northern is my confidant," Sir Gresley insisted. "He has overseen almost all of the new Pacific engines coming into sentience."

"That may be so but he has been nothing but nasty to my siblings," Quicksilver complained. "I do not wish him to be here!"

"Do not question or argue with our designer young girl," North said coldly to the younger engine. "It is unbecoming and distasteful. Much like the rest of you and your class."

"Really!" Quicksilver exclaimed offended and Sir Gresley frowned at Great Northern.

"I understand you do not like the A4s North but they are still my designs, they are my pride and joy just as your class was," he told North sternly. "To insult them is to insult me and my designs, do you understand?"

Great Northern looked at his buffers shamefully.

"Yes sir, I apologise, sir," he apologised.

"Good," Sir Gresley smiled. "I have a mind to have another engine replace you for this job if you constantly insist on antagonising the A4s. Don't think I haven't heard how you speak of them to other engines."

That made North go pale with worry and for Quicksilver to smirk at him.

"Why not have Scotsman replace North? He has achieved much more than North ever has. Flying Scotsman runs the Kings Cross Top Shed with Polly since Great Northen disgraced himself," she said snidely and North threw a glare at the silver engine. “He is a lot kinder and pleasant to new engines and people. Why have North when you could have the current leader of Kings Cross and not this has-been?”

Sir Gresley gave a soft sigh.

“I doubt I could convince the directors to pull Flying Scotsman away from his work,” Sir Gresley mused. “As much as he didn’t want that job at first he now fights for it tooth and nail.”

“You have me to thank for setting the boy straight,” North puffed but Sir Gresley glared at him.

“Gordon was the one who convinced 4472, not you,” Sir Gresley said sternly. “I am disappointed that it wasn’t you. You tried to claim his achievement as your own I recall.”

“It’s quite appalling sir,” Quicksilver said and North hissed steam at her. “Why not work around Scotsman’s schedule or put this idiot on instead? Find some workaround. Flying Scotsman is clearly your favourite sir. We all can see that. Why not give him your confidence sir?”

Great Northern shot a venomous glare at Quicksilver but Sir Gresley gave the Silver A4 a genuine smile.

"I adore Scotsman but he has a soft heart and he does not make for a stern and commanding leader," he explained. "He is too soft and too kind. Newly sentient engines required a strong role model to break them in, not coddle them and make them weak with emotion."

"Some would argue that such attributes make him more ideal sir," Quicksilver remarked and North huffed. “We are passenger engines, after all, we need to be pleasant and respectful to our passengers. Not be nasty and uptight like North here!”

"We run a railway Quicksilver, not a playschool for children," he scolded her. "Such attributes could be seen as a weakness by the other railways!"

"It still doesn't hurt to be nice every now and then, North," she snapped back at him. "Something you've never clearly done."

“Enough,” Sir Gresley said and both engines immediately quieted down. “The other reason I do not allow Flying Scotsman to be my confidant is the sensitive nature of Gold Dust. Both of you are aware of the risks and mechanisms behind it, Scotsman is kind-hearted and passionate, he will not keep such things a secret for long. If he protests against the true nature of sentient engines he will cause trouble, he will advocate for the rights of engines and that is something that could get himself and his entire class scrapped if the directors so wished.”

A deadly and uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

“I told you his soft-hearted nature was a problem,” North snapped and Quicksilver just glared at him.

“That’s enough, North,” Sir Gresley said annoyed. “You’ve made your opinions quite clear. As I recall I told you to reign in some of 4472’s more disobedient nature if I remember correctly.”

North looked ashamed. “Yes sir, I’m sorry sir. 4472 will not listen to me anymore sir. He has latched onto his sister’s influence.”

“Pretty Polly is a wonderful engine, sir,” Quicksilver chimed in. "I am happy to have her take Silver Fox and Bittern under her care."

“Certainly,” Sir Gresley agreed. “But she argues with the directors and is outspoken. The directors do not wish for any more engines like her. Therefore we will be limiting the amount of Gold Dust in future engines.”

“But sir!” Quicksilver argued but their designer put his hand up.

“You are engines, you are made for a purpose, if you do not do that purpose and become a problem then the directors of the LNER will see fit to scrap you,” He said bluntly. “Therefore these new A4s must be obedient and they will perform up to standard if not better. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” both engines said. Quicksilver looked aghast and hurt. Great Northern’s face was stoic.

“This new engine,” Sir Gresley motioned towards the blank lifeless engine before them, “Is the first to have this reduced Gold Dust. Its design has been tested and refined to be faster than current A4 Pacific’s. With it, we will be attempting to achieve the fastest steam record.”

Quicksilver’s previous hurt disappeared and she looked at the silent engine. It stared back at her with its lifeless smokebox.

“You’re choosing one of us, sir?” She asked excitedly and Sir Gresley smiled.

“That’s right. This one will be named Mallard,” he said.

“That little moat outside your home certainly does inspire you, sir,” Quicksilver remarked and Sir Gresley chuckled.

“Indeed it does.”

He turned to Great Northern.

“Great Northern will coach this engine while it runs its tests. If it does not achieve its goal of breaking the speed record I will be extremely disappointed in you and will relegate you to goods work,” Sir Gresley ordered Great Northern looked shocked.

“Goods work sir?" He thundered furiously while Quicksilver gave a soft laugh. “I am a premier express engine! I will refuse!”

“Then you will be scrapped and I will not allow your soul to be bound to another object!”

Great Northern went white in the face and completely silent. Even Quicksilver looked shocked at Sir Gresley’s threat.

“Sir… that’s a bit much don’t you think sir?” She asked shakily. “North’s certainly a bit of a nasty engine but that might be too far, to threaten to destroy his soul.”

“Perhaps,” Sir Gresley said. “But North has failed time and time again to keep my engines in check. I am giving him the last chance. Mallard will achieve his record under North’s tutorage or he will become a goods engine and never pull another passenger service.”

Great Northern looked distressed, but he then deflated and gave a resigned exhale.

“Yes sir, I will make sure Mallard achieves his record, sir, no matter the cost,” he said, his tone defeated. Quicksilver looked concerned but was ignored.

“I am glad to hear that,” their designer said. “I do not take pleasure making such threats, however sometimes they are necessary. The LNER has lost its edge, and the GWR and LMS’s engines are threatening our position even after Flying Scotsman’s record. That castle class made an embarrassment of Scotsman. We are starting to become complacent. We need to return to form, you understand that more than any, don’t you North?”

“Yes sir, I do sir,” North agreed. “Back when the Great Northern Railway found its end.”

“I’m glad you understand North,” Sir Gresley said before motioning towards the lifeless Mallard. “Now then, your new ward awaits.”

He motioned for the men to start to process to bring Mallard sentience. Quicksilver was silent and unnerved. She glanced at North who sat there for a second, a look of regret and sadness on his face.

He caught Quicksilver looking at him and the emotions immediately washed away, replaced by a cold and stern, stoic look as he watched Mallard being lowered into the Golden Well.

Both engines said nothing, watching as the gold dust swarmed around the A4 Pacific.

As the new engine was lowered to the ground, its face appearing before them, Great Northern just felt an unexplainable dread overcome him.

He glanced at Quicksilver who did not react in the slightest.

He looked back at Mallard and just felt loathing.

His future was in the hands of one of these ugly toasters. If this engine did not perform then he would be even more of a laughing stock to the other express engines.

He frowned and bit back the urge to hurl insults at the new engine as Quicksilver rolled forward and spoke to the engine kindly trying to wake it up for the first time.

North just felt hatred and despair as the engine opened its eyes and gazed around confused.

~~~

"You must be the new A4, hello," Mallard gave a startled jolt as he heard the voice of another engine. He looked over and saw a green A3 pacific with a kind face, round eyes and a long nose.

She smiled at him sweetly.

"I'm Pretty Polly," she introduced herself. "You must be Mallard, welcome to the mainline."

"Thank you," Mallard smiled back at her. He was still a bit shy but this engine seemed very lovely and kind. "I'm here to be mainline certified."

"Oh you'll pass with flying colours," Polly assured him. "You look strong. Clean and newly polished too, what a sight you are."

Mallard puffed himself up slightly.

"That I am Ms Polly!" The young engine said excitedly.

"I hear that you're going to try and set the world record for steam locomotives too!" She praised and Mallard grinned at her. "My, and only a few months old!"

"I'm not going to try Pretty Polly," Mallard said smugly. "I AM going to set that record."

Pretty Polly beamed at him pleased.

"You have a lot of us old workhorses cheering for you!" She assured him. "Even Flying Scotsman himself wants you to beat him!"

Mallard looked puzzled.

"I thought the Flying Scotsman was a train?" He asked confused and Polly chuckled.

"Oh no dear, not the train, the engine! He's the first engine to go 100mph!" Polly explained with a laugh. "No matter what those stuck-up Great Westerns think, our Scott has them officially beat."

Mallard frowned. Why hadn't Great Northern mentioned the previous record holder to him? Surely that would've been important to know.

"I could ask Flying Scotsman to give you advice if you like, he'd be happy to help I'm sure!"

"I don't know, Great Northern is very strict on my timetable," Mallard admitted. "I doubt I could find time to see him. I'm not supposed to be talking to other engines either."

Pretty Polly scowled.

"That ridiculous old boiler! Still trying to enforce his old ways on others!" She huffed. "Still, I'll let Flying Scotsman know and he'll try to find you to give you a few tips."

The young engine smiled. He'd only been awake for a few weeks and he hadn't been allowed to talk to the other engines. Great Northern had sheltered him and kept him from everyone else.

It wasn't until he was sent to be tested on the mainline that he could talk to engines other than Great Northern, Quicksilver or Silver Link. Sir Gresley himself was insanely hard on him. He barely had time to figure out who he was yet.

He quite liked Pretty Polly. She was like Quicksilver, kind and encouraging to him, however, Polly seemed older, hardened and firey.

"Here are your coaches Ms Polly!" The station pilot called to Polly as her coaches gently bumped into her.

"Thank you Peony dear! You do a wonderful service my darling!" She called and the pilot gave a happy whistle in reply.

"You talk to the shunters?" Mallard asked, surprised. "I thought we weren't supposed to talk to the shunters?"

The two elder silvers and North did not care for shunters. They were servants. They did not speak and they brought coaches without fuss, that was all. If they spoke, they would be punished.

"Of course!" Polly said. "Without them, the railway wouldn't run on time! And we all sleep under the big shed, it's better to get along with everyone so close to each other."

Mallard had never considered that. He was about to reply when he heard Great Northern pull up behind him.

"Mallard!" North's voice snapped at him. "Do not talk to the other engines while you're working!"

"Yes sir, I apologise sir!" Mallard seemed to shrink under the orders of North.

North glared at the young engine before looking at Polly.

"You," he hissed steam at her. "Go away and stop putting your poisonous ideas into this engine's smokebox!"

"Poisonous ideas?" Polly scoffed. "You mean being a pleasant and social person? Something you certainly wouldn't know about!"

"Be off with you!" North barked at her. "You and my old ward bring shame to the LNER with your complacent attitude!"

Polly just humphed at him. Her guard's whistle blew signally her to depart

"You're just jealous that Flying Scotsman no longer needs the likes of you," she huffed. "Or maybe you're jealous of the fact that he never needed you in the first place!"

Pretty Polly said nothing more except a kind parting word to Mallard before pulling away with the Flying Scotsman Express in tow.

"You're not to talk to Polly or the other Top Shed engines Mallard, do you understand?"

"Yes sir but why-"

"Do not question me!" North snapped and Mallard looked down at his buffers shamefully.

“I’m sorry sir,” he muttered.

“You are here to be mainline certified, not talk to other engines. Do not speak to another engine unless I say so,” North scolded. “It is not proper.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” Mallard mumbled. Great Northern looked furious. He didn’t like it when Great Northern was furious, it was like upsetting Sir Gresley himself.

“You are to complete your trials and return to the workshop immediately, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Mallard said quietly.

“If I hear of you talking to any other engines on your trial I will be very angry,” North warned and Mallard wanted to shrink away from the imposing engine. “Go on, get out of my sight. Pass the trial or else you will disappoint me.”

“Yes sir,” Mallard said before releasing his excess steam and turning his wheels slowly and departing from King’s Cross, Great Northern watching him with a surly look on his face.

Mallard didn’t know what he had done to upset or anger Great Northern, but for some reason, the A3 Pacific was always angry and harsh with him. Never once giving him encouragement or even a job or a well done!

Silver King and Quicksilver were at the very least somewhat supportive of him, always saying they were proud to have him as a little brother, but their praise was seldom heard as they often had trained to pull and he was left with North to tutor him.

The lack of praise only meant he had to strive harder and harder, Mallard mused as he picked up speed. He would gain Great Northern’s approval, he would make the engine proud.

Up ahead he saw Pretty Polly and the Flying Scotsman express ahead and smiled to himself.

He caught up to her and her train in practically no time at all, his driver stunned at the sheer speed he had. The passengers stared out the window at him, the sight of a A4 gathering its speed must have been impressive to them as they stared in awe.

“Well I never!” His driver crowed. “You far outshine your siblings young Mallard! Sir Nigel’s betting on the right horse with you!”

Mallard felt his ego swell and a confident grin spread across his face as he pressed forward, eager to overtake Polly and the Flying Scotsman.

Polly looked over and saw him moving to pass her with tremendous speed.

“Look at you! Speed demon!” She hollered playfully and gave him an excited whistle. He replied with an equally excited whistle and grinned at her.

“Too fast for an old horse like you!” He teased and Polly laughed at him.

“Quite so, quite so!” She laughed in good humour and he pulled away from her still gaining speed.

“Amazing, simply amazing!” His driver praised and Mallard went to press on but he was stopped by a tight grip on his regulator. “Steady now, we’re here to get you certified to pull trains, not break a record now.”

“But I was built for this!” Mallard complained but the driver did not open up his regulator again.

“Yes you are dear fellow but not right now,” his driver chided. “Let’s pass your trails and impress the old man later.”

Mallard relented.

“Alright,” he agreed. “But I want to open my regulator to full, I want to show the world what I can do.”

“Oh you can count on it with how you’re performing blue bird,” the fireman chuckled. “I can barely keep up with you.”

Mallard grinned and allowed himself to slow. Polly wasn’t catching up to him at all which was good. It meant that he’d gotten a good distance between them. His crew was in high spirits and he felt truly himself for the first time since he had awoken.

He was meant for the rails, to go fast. He could feel it in every rivet, every bolt and every pin.

He felt free.

He truly was the fastest Steam Engine in the world.

~~~

When he got back to the workshop he found Quicksilver, Great Northern and Sir Gresley waiting for him.

“Polly said she saw you! You were amazing!” Quicksilver praised her younger brother. “She said you put the rest of us to shame! I’m so proud of you little brother!”

Mallard blushed a deep red at his big sister's praise.

“It was only a trial, my driver didn’t even let me approach my limit,” he mumbled. “I can go much faster sir, I just know it.”

Sir Gresley clapped his hands together pleased.

“I know you can Mallard, I certainly do!” he was grinning from ear to ear with pride. “Well done! Well done indeed! The results from the dynamo car are very promising!”

Mallard grinned happily however it faded slightly when he saw Great Northern’s face.

He just stared at him blankly, with no pride, no joy at him his success, just a stoic face with no emotion.

He felt a feeling of disappointment grow in his boiler.

Why wasn’t Great Northern proud of him? He’d succeeded, he proved himself worthy of pulling expresses and proven that he could achieve the record. Everyone was praising him, he was the fastest steam locomotive in the world, and he just had to prove it.

So why wasn’t North proud of him?

He heard Sir Gresley excitedly discussing his plans with the other engineers under his instruction but Mallard just looked to North who avoided his gaze and looked disgruntled and annoyed with him.

Mallard didn’t understand, what had he done wrong?

Quicksilver engaged him with idle chat for a while until both she and Great Northern were shooed out of the workshop so the engineers could inspect him, all of them curious and puzzled as to what was giving him the edge over his siblings.

The humans excitedly buzzed around him well after the work day had ended, proud of their new engine, praising him and marvelling at him, confident that he could be their world record holder.

Eventually they left and allowed him to sleep in the workshop.

Mallard was happy. He liked being fawned over and constantly praised by his designer and his underlings. It pleased him that he’d impressed the engineers enough that they were confident to approach the directors and be granted permission for a record run.

A dark cloud hung over him however.

Why did Great Northern do nothing but berate and talk down to him even after he pleased their designer?

He just didn’t understand it.

Maybe he had to beat the record to finally gain North’s approval and pride.

Yes, that had to be it.

He was settling down to sleep when he was disturbed by the workshop doors opening and the silhouette of an A3 Pacific appeared before him.

He found himself wide awake.

“Great Northern?” He asked excitedly but his smile faded slightly when he saw that it was a different engine. “Oh, you’re not Great Northern.”

The engine chuckled and gave him a friendly whistle. “Afraid not, I’m the Flying Scotsman!”

Mallard looked at the engine curiously.

He looked like a younger version of North except the lines of his face were rounder, more friendly looking. The A3 Pacific smiled at him.

“Pretty Polly told me about you today! She was telling everyone at the sheds how impressive you are!” The Flying Scotsman exclaimed. “She said I might be able to help give you some tips for when you try to break that record.”

“Oh um, yes, she did mention that,” Mallard said unsure of how to respond.

This Flying Scotsman was friendly and warm, much like Polly and his sister and so unlike Great Northern. It was weird, seeing an engine look so similar to North being nice to him. He didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Would you like some help or am I intruding too much?” The Flying Scotsman asked. “I know that Sir Gresley can be a very demanding man, especially for a new engine such as yourself.”

“I think I’ll be fine honestly,” Mallard admitted. “When my regulator was opened up for the first time today, I felt… I felt alive, I felt like my true self.”

The Scotsman chuckled. “It’s a grand feeling isn’t it?”

Mallard smiled excitedly as he remembered the feeling.

“I want to be on the rails every day, I want my firebox to blaze like a wildfire and I want the steam to rush through my tubes! I never want to be taken off of the rails ever!” Mallard declared proudly. "I would so hate to be stuck in the sheds. I need to be on the track, you know?"

Scotsman smiled at the young engine. He knew that feeling too well.

“Oh I know, young Mallard. It’s wonderful to run at your full potential,” He chuckled. “But going 100mph is a very different experience. It hurts every bolt and every piston. Your wheels will burn, the rails will scream at you and it feels like you’re about to lose control at any minute. If you’re not prepared for it, you could damage yourself and you could hurt your crew or your passengers. Fatally even. If you crash at such speeds, there will be little left of you and you won’t be saved."

Mallard huffed. “I’m the fastest Steam Locomotive in the world, I doubt going at speed would damage me, it is what I was built for.”

The Scotsman frowned at him.

“Arrogance will only get you so far, young iron,” he warned but Mallard glared at him.

“You’re just frightened that I’m going to beat you,” he accused and Scotsman sighed.

“On the contrary, I hope you beat it. It’ll give our rivals something to talk about,” Scotsman smirked. “Once again the LNER shows up the other railways for how useless they are. I’m getting tired of the LMS engine coming up to me and constantly reminding me that one of their boys reached 114mph. Reclaim that title for us please, I’d like to have something to shove in their faces.”

Mallard frowned but said nothing. Sir Gresley did say that he wanted to keep it in the railway, particularly his designs.

Perhaps the elder engine was being genuine.

“I’ll take your advice into consideration, Flying Scotsman,” he admitted at the A3 Pacific grinned at him.

“Wonderful! If you have any other questions I’d be happy to help you,” he offered.

Mallard gazed at the ground for a while before looking back up at the Scotsman who sat before him patiently. He remembered the sinking feeling he got when he saw North just sitting there emotionless while everyone praised him.

North had been the one to push him, to coach him and to train him up for his trials.

Yet he felt that he had disappointed him.

He looked at the Flying Scotsman.

"Um, do you know Great Northern?" He asked and the smile instantly disappeared from Scotsman's face and he began scowling.

"Unfortunately I do," he said in a low growl.

"Do you think that um, do you think that I'll be able to impress him? He never seems happy with anything I do despite the fact I try so hard for him," Mallard admitted honestly. "I want to impress him, more than anyone else."

The Flying Scotsman stared at the young Mallard for a long moment before giving a long drawn-out sigh.

"I'm just going to be brutally honest with you Mallard," he said bluntly. "You're never going to impress Great Northern."

Mallard frowned.

"You don't know that," he retorted irritated.

"Yes I do, he put me through hell, he did nothing to belittle me and constantly demeaned me. When I achieved my record, it still wasn't enough," Scotsman explained. "He is stuck in the ways of a long-dead railway. Things are changing and he and Sir Gresley refuse to see that."

"I am not like you," Mallard insisted. "I am faster, stronger and more powerful. I WILL impress him."

The Scotsman just gave a sad sigh of regret.

"Take it from me, Mallard, I know North, he won't ever change and he won't ever be impressed," Scotsman said bitterly. "Just focus on impressing Sir Gresley. He's the only opinion you should care about. North is just another engine, no matter how much he wants to believe he is equal to our designer, he is not."

"Shut up," Mallard snapped and Scotsman raised an eyebrow at him. "North was never impressed with you because lacked my power, my strength!"

"Don't be conceited young iron-"

"Don't call me young iron! I might be young but I'm the strongest and fastest engine ever produced!" Mallard shouted at Scotsman. "You were just a disappointment! I will impress North unlike you!"

"Mallard please listen to me, Great Northern is not a good influence on you-"

"No! You just came here to stop me from achieving my record so North wouldn't praise me!"

The Scotsman looked shocked at Mallard's outburst. Just what was North doing to the poor engine to make him so desperate to please him?

"I did no such thing, I came at the request of my sister, Polly!" The Scotsman tried to defend himself. "I want to help you! Please listen to me!"

"You're just trying to sabotage me!" Mallard was refusing to listen now.

The Flying Scotsman gazed at Mallard sadly. The young engine seemed very distraught, not understanding why North was being so nasty to him and it was driving him crazy just to try and please him.

"I'm sorry Mallard," the Scotsman apologised to him. "I'll talk to North, try to get him to understand but I doubt it will work. You're a grand engine, clearly, something that Sir Gresley is proud of, but please don't go chasing for North's approval. You will never receive it."

Mallard just frowned at him, his mind clearly made up.

This was not how he had wanted to meet his cousin.

"I will impress him, Flying Scotsman," Mallard snapped. "I'm better than you will ever be."

Scotsman wasn't angry, he was just sad.

He began to leave, his pistons hissing quietly.

"I'm sorry," Scotsman said quietly. "I truly am Mallard. I wish you the best and I hope you beat that record with no problem."

"I will," Mallard huffed and closed his eyes, making it clear that this conversation was over.

Scotsman backed out of the workshop and the instant the doors were closed he turned to his crew.

"I don't wish to be a bother, but could we detour and find Great Northern?" He asked them.

~~~

Great Northern was startled awake by Flying Scotsman's loud and harsh whistle sounding right beside his smokebox. His younger brother looked more furious than North had ever seen him.

"I want a word with you!" Scotsman snapped angrily.

North just looked at his younger brother with a grumpy and annoyed expression.

"What do you want 4472?" He asked, irritated.

"I see you're not treating the new engine any better than you treated me, North," Scotsman hissed at him. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have no common decency?"

"I have the interests of the LNER in mind unlike you 4472," North scowled. "This new engine will not be weak like you."

"I am not weak," the Flying Scotsman snapped. "Showing emotion is not a weakness!"

"You are unrefined, childish, immature and you do not take the concerns of the LNER seriously!" North shouted back at Scotsman.

"Mallard is going to hurt himself! He's so desperate to prove himself to you that he won't listen to reason!" Scotsman snapped. "Even Sir Gresley wouldn't push an engine this hard!"

"Then you clearly don't know Sir Gresley," North scowled.

"Just for crying out loud, please lay off Mallard," Scotsman pleaded. "He's having a hard enough time trying to break a record, let alone having to please you! So just back off and show the kid some encouragement would you?"

"You have no business telling me how to arrange my affairs, you waste of iron!" North snapped and the Scotsman looked truly hurt.

"I am not a waste of iron," Scotsman asserted although he could not completely hide the hurt in his voice. "I am the Flying Scotsman!"

"A mere footnote in history," North said coldly. "One record is nothing. Records are made to be broken."

Scotsman glared at North angrily.

"Maybe so, but at least I am loved and have friends," he said. "Unlike you, who will die alone and be scrapped."

"The LNER wouldn't dare, not me," North said proudly. "They wouldn't lay a finger on me."

The Scotsman glared at North. He looked away.

"I am ashamed to call you my brother," he spat coldly. "I hope that Mallard will realise just how awful you are before it's too late."

North just huffed and ignored 4472.

"Even if you get preserved for being the first of us, I hope you die alone, cold and abandoned," Scotsman said coldly surprising himself with just how nasty he was being.

If Great Northern was hurt, he didn't show it at all. He simply stared at 4472 with an unflinching gaze.

"Get out of my sight," North said quietly. "Go and cry to Ms Polly like you used to with Gordon, child."

Scotsman hissed steam at North in response.

"I honestly don't see how Sir Gresley puts up with you anymore,' Scotsman snarled before pulling away from North. "I stopped Polly from letting the other engines harass you but I think I'm honestly done putting up with you."

The Scotsman didn't smile as he backed away from North, ready to leave.

"I don't think you'll find the LNER a nice place for you anymore North," Flying Scotsman warned. "I'm done protecting you. I think you’ll find what remaining sympathy I had for you was the only thing from keeping the other engines at bay."

With that the Scotsman left without another word or look at Great North.

North did not take the threats of Scotsman seriously but he would regret not doing so. Usually, his threats we joke or him being a pest to other engines, they were often no real malice behind him.

The next day there was a decide uptake in shunters being rude to him, the other A3's mocking his age and the A4's often calling him slow, old and unreliable.

The days after that, they had become relentless.

Great Northern refused to admit it but Scotsman's kindness was most probably the only thing that had kept the engines of the Top Shed from being horrendously nasty to him. With that gone, now the other engines bombarded him with an onslaught of insults and harassment.

The Flying Scotsman was the public image of the LNER after all. What he said went and Pretty Polly was in a similar situation. The two had a say in the directors of the railways plans at Gresley's request.

It was ludicrous.

North had clearly severed all good ties with any other engine but it didn't matter.

Right now all that mattered was serving Gresley, in the hopes that his soul would be saved and bound safely to something else.

He need to push Mallard, he needed the engine to succeed, no matter the cost.

He’d push away any engine that got in his way if he had to.

He had no need for friends/

~~~

“Why is Flying Scotsman here?” Mallard asked Sir Gresley as he noticed the engine pulling up to the station beside him.

“Because today is a momentous day dear cousin!” Scotsman said cheerfully.

Mallard raised an eyebrow at the green engine but then looked back at Sir Gresley.

“Indeed it is,” he said. “Today I am authorising my specially picked team to attempt to beat the German Speed Record of 124.5mph. You are the engine that will perform the attempt.”

Mallard blushed a deep red and looked extremely determined.

“Yes sir!” He said confidently. “I’ll make you proud sir!”

This was his moment, his triumph, his chance to make Great Northern proud of him.

“This is Joe, he is a very experienced driver and this is the fireman Thomas,” Sir Gresley introduced his crew to him. “Work with them, do everything you can to break the speed record, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Mallard sang out. “I’ll do my very best and if that’s not enough, I’ll put my very soul into breaking the record, sir!”

Sir Gresley smiled. “Try your very best Mallard.”

Mallard smiled and his attention turned to Flying Scotsman who was giving him an encouraging smile. He looked proud and happy for him which Mallard refused to admit made him happy. It made him happy that Flying Scotsman at least was encouraging.

He gave his cousin a warm smile.

“You’ll do fine Mallard,” Flying Scotsman enthusiastically assured him. “You’re a Gresley, one of the finest locomotive designs in the world. Show the world what you were designed to do!”

Mallard grinned widely. Despite their initial awkward meeting, he could genuinely see himself being the elder engine's friend.

He was about to reply when he suddenly saw Great Northern watching some distance away, glaring menacingly and with a look of complete disapproval.

He wasn’t supposed to talk to the other engines. And especially not Flying Scotsman.

He looked away from Flying Scotsman and ignored the other engine concentrating on Sir Gresley and his crew explaining the details of the attempt.

Flying Scotsman stared at Mallard, confused at his sudden behaviour change but then saw Great Northern giving Mallard that nastiest look he had ever seen.

The anger boiled up in his boiler.

Mallard was still clearly desperate to please North despite Scotsman’s warning. He sighed and looked away.

Nothing good would come of this even if Mallard’s attempt was successful, he just knew it.

~~~

On any other day, Olivia would have marvelled at the performance and well-kept nature of Sir Nigel Gresley the A4 Pacific. This engine was remarkably smooth and responded so actively to every lever pull, and every touch on the regulator.

Bittern was similar to drive however there was something more stately and almost regal about Sir Nigel. His presence felt different to the other A4s like he carried himself with purpose. Bittern carried himself with a blazing and furious will to succeed and go fast.

It almost made her forget about the current situation at hand.

“A remarkable engine isn’t he my Lady?” Sir Nigel’s fireman, Philip asked. “Not quite like the others.”

Olivia gave a half smile of approval as she watched the tracks ahead, the countryside passing at tremendous speed.

She was about to reply when it felt like something hit her and a furious heat like being engulfed in flames suddenly swept over her causing her to abandon her post.

“What’s going on?” Sir Nigel called back as he suddenly felt his regulator close without good reason and he immediately lost his good head of steam his pistons struggling to pump and his wheels slipping out of sync. “Lady Olivia?”

Phillip immediately checked over Olivia who was sitting at the engineer's post, her entire body slack and motionless.

With difficulty he pulled Sir Nigel into the nearest siding and shut off the engine as best he could.

“Ms Olivia,” Phillip checked over the woman gently, supporting her carefully as he tried to pull her out of her slumped position at the engine’s controls.

“Is she okay?” Sir Nigel called concerned.

“I don’t know, I’m going to call for help,” He said as he dug in his pocket for his phone while having an arm around to support Olivia.

He froze and stared shocked when he saw Olivia’s face.

Her eyes were open and glowing with gold dust like she was in some kind of strange trance.

~~~

Chapter Text

21 - No 4468 - Part II

Mallard felt his eyes water and whimpered as the pain became even more intense. He could hear his crew shouting but right now he didn't care. He'd pushed himself too hard and now something was burning in his undercarriage.

It felt like he'd overheated something. It was burning hot and the pain was flowing out in waves from the damaged part.

Flying Scotsman had been right, going over 100mph was agonising, it hurt, he felt like he was about to lose control at any moment and he wanted to scream but refrained from doing so as it would displease Great Northern.

"It's alright, it's alright boy," he heard Joe reassuring him. "You performed beautifully over Stokes bank. I think we got it."

"Something hurts," he muttered weakly, afraid to admit it but the pain was getting unbearable. "I need to stop! It hurts too much!"

"We'll stop at Peterborough and have you changed out for another engine so you can rest," Thomas assured him. "You'll be fine."

"Thank you," was all Mallard could say as he pulled the train onwards.

Somehow, not sure how, he managed to pull the train to where a gaggle of spectators and the A3 Pacific, Spion Kop, sat awaiting him.

"Dear me did you shake yourself to bits young Mallard?" Spion asked concerned. "What's wrong? Did you make it?"

"I- I- don't know," Mallard said shakily as he pulled into the station. "But something broke inside me. I don't know what but it hurts."

There was a long moment of fuss as his crew and the people in the dynamo car discussed what had happened. There was a long tense moment before a cry went up.

"126mph? Are you sure?"

"It wasn't over a mile but 125 is still faster than those Germans!"

"Did you hear that Mallard? You did it!" Joe proclaimed loudly and for a brief moment, Mallard forgot all his pain.

"I- did it?" He asked, shocked before a swell of pride filled his boiler. "Of course I did! I'm the fastest Steam Locomotive in the world!"

Spion Kop, and the other engines around the station blasted their whistles and a huge cheer went up. People on the platforms and engines became raucous a loud, the celebration echoing around the yard.

There was no doubt that Great Northern would be proud of him now.

After a while, he was uncoupled from the train by one of his siblings and Spion Kob replaced him so he could rest. He was placed in the yard and throes of people swarmed around him, cheering and happy, congratulating him and his crew.

He didn't talk much, he just wanted to rest, the sibling that had brought him there sat next to him quietly, giving him space to bask in his achievement.

He sat there through most of the day as people came by to take photos, talk to him and even try to interview him. The humans were abuzz and they showered him in adoration and praise.

He revelled in it despite his pain and exhaustion he lapped up every single bit of attention and he adored it.

Sir Gresley came by with Quicksilver proclaiming his pride and love for him and his achievement.

"Mallard! My greatest achievement! You have done me so proud my engine!" Sir Gresley called to him and Mallard smiled through his tears of joy.

"Thank you, sir! I did my best sir! I wanted to show the world that I truly am the most powerful and fastest steam engine in the world sir!" Mallard proclaimed excitedly.

"And you certainly did that Mallard!" Sir Gresley smiled. “I have never been so proud of an engine as I am now!”

"I heard you were hurt though," Quicksilver said, concerned. "Are you alright little brother?"

Mallard sniffed.

"My wheels ran too hot Quick," he admitted. "I couldn't complete the entire journey to Edinburgh sir, I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologise for Mallard," Sir Gresley assured him. "I would have preferred that you not be damaged but all things considered it could have been a lot worse. You are welcome to rest until you feel well enough to run again."

"Thank you, sir," Mallard said gratefully. He looked at Quicksilver who looked at him with an adoring gaze.

"I'm so proud of you little brother," she praised him. "You really are the best of us."

Mallard felt both his pride and ego swell.

"Thank you, sister!" He said proudly.

After a while, Quicksilver and Sir Gresley departed and his sibling moved him into a shed to be inspected. As the men got to work he was surprised to find the sibling staying and keeping him company.

"Haven't you got trains to pull?" He asked the engine and his older sibling laughed.

"No, no, afraid not," he chuckled. "Still not on the timetables after getting a few bolts replaced. Been running trials for a few days, you're just lucky I was around here to meet you and shunt you around."

"Oh, I see," Mallard smiled. His brother seemed friendly enough. "I'm Mallard."

The engine laughed. "Yes, yes I got all that from the media circus you pulled in with youy friend."

Mallard blushed embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled and the other engine waved him off.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Just honoured to be around to see the famous Mallard finish his record run!"

Mallard grinned widely. He liked this engine.

"My name is Merlin," the engine introduced himself. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance Mallard."

"The pleasure is all mine!"

~~~

Mallard returned to the workshop later that evening to be fully repaired. He found a gaggle of engineers excitedly going over him and checking him over. Some of them cheered and drank long into the night until the foreman shooed them away, concerned that they might damage the workshop or Mallard himself.

The men gave him and loud and energetic, albeit drunken, goodbye and went off to continue their party elsewhere.

He smiled to himself as they left.

He’d fulfilled his purpose, he’d made everyone proud.

No doubt the other engines would want to celebrate with him in the morning. Maybe he could see Polly again, or even Flying Scotsman.

He wondered if the Scotsman had had a similar experience when he had broken his record. He was excited to exchange notes with the A3 Pacific despite their initial meeting.

Scotsman had been right about going over 100mph. The experience had been excruciating. It had taxed him to his limit. But still, the experience had been worth it.

He smiled to himself as he fell into a well-earned sleep.

The next morning he found Flying Scotsman filling his tender with water at a nearby tower.

“Look who it is, it’s the fastest engine in the world!” Scotsman greeted Mallard with a friendly whistle and a smile as he saw him approaching. Scotsman’s crew were also delighted to see the blue engine, cheerily waving to him and shouting their praise of him.

Word had spread fast it seemed.

Mallard grinned at him, pleased with himself.

“Hello former fastest engine in the world,” he teased and Scotsman laughed.

“I think you’ll find I still have fire in me Ducky boy,” Scotsman shot back playfully and Mallard smirked.

“Prove it,” He challenged and the Scotsman snorted.

“One day perhaps, but I hear you damaged yourself on the run, are you okay?” Scotsman asked concerned. “You didn’t push yourself too hard did you?”

“I had to or I wouldn’t beat the Germans,” Mallard said. “I couldn’t let Sir Gresley down. Well, I guess I did by damaging myself and not being able to continue.”

“At least it was only a hotbox,” Scotsman smiled encouragingly at him. “Happens to the best of us. You did fantastic Mallard.”

“Thank you,” Mallard smiled at the A3 Pacific.

Mallard was about to ask Scotsman about his own record when he heard another A3 Pacific come up behind him.

“What have I told you about speaking to other engines Mallard?” Great Northern scolded the A4 Pacific.

“But sir can’t I at least celebrate-”

“And do not talk back to me!” North shouted at him.

“Leave Mallard alone!” Scotsman snapped at his older brother. “He achieved something great, he deserves to be celebrated!”

“There is still much Mallard has to learn, regardless of his achievement,” North said looking at Mallard who avoided his gaze and looked at his buffers shamefully. “He is still a child. Like you are.”

Scotsman frowned at his brother.

“I’m not the one throwing insults around,” Scotsman pointed out. He looked at Mallard who had gone completely docile once North had appeared. “Mallard, it’s okay. We’re all proud of you.”

Mallard looked at Scotsman and then to Great Northern who was sitting there glaring at him.

“Are you proud of me, Great Northern? I broke the record, I made the LNER proud!” He said full of pride and Great Northern just looked at the engine up and down with a distasteful gaze.

“I will never be proud of a hideous engine like you, I have more pride in my stupid younger brother here than I ever will have in you. You will never surpass Flying Scotsman and you will never impress me,” was all he said and Mallard looked heartbroken.

“North!” Flying Scotsman looked furious. “That is completely uncalled for! What the hell are you-”

“I’ll make you proud I swear!” Mallard pleaded with North. “I don’t know what I did to disappoint you but I can prove to you how loyal, how good I am!”

Great Northern just gave Mallard a disgusted look and moved off into the distance, Scotsman staring at him in complete shock. Scotsman quickly looked to Mallard who had tears leaking from his eyes but he didn’t look sad or upset.

He looked furious.

Mallard looked at Flying Scotsman and hissed steam angrily.

“I’ll prove to him that I’m better than you!” He declared angrily. “I’m better than you! I’m better than the Flying Scotsman!”

“Mallard please, he’s not worth it-”

“Shut up! I’m better than you! I’m faster than you how can he be proud of you and not me?!” Mallard shrieked confused and angry.

“He’s just taking out his frustrations on you Mallard, you can’t let him get to you!”

Mallard just glared at Scotsman who stared back at him sadly.

“I’m better than you!” He repeated angrily. “I will always be better than you!”

“Mallard please,” Scotsman begged but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

The angry A4 Pacific stormed away, Scotsman unable to follow as his tender was still being filled with water. He sighed heavily and his crew looked deeply concerned and confused.

~~~

"You were such a good engine, Mallard. What happened to you?"

"What?" Mallard froze, taking himself out of his memory and suddenly becoming aware of Scotsman's presence somewhere in his mind.

That wasn't right, HE was the one to invade and break his victim's minds, go through their memories and use their weaknesses against them.

"What is this? What have you done?"

"You invited me into your mind, Mallard, don't be so surprised," Flying Scotsman said and Mallard grew angry.

"I did not! How did you do this? This was a trick! You did trick me!"

"I truly didn't. Once a door is opened, you can enter from both directions," Scotsman explained. "I doubt the other engines who you drained of Gold Dust even realised they could do this. Then again why would they when they were scared for their life."

Mallard snarled in anger and tried to force Scotsman from his mind but he couldn't grab him or even know where he was.

"Get out!" Mallard roared at Scotsman. "Get out of my mind!"

"But I wish to learn about Merlin," Scotsman said. "You know, I never actually knew Merlin that well. He seems like such a lovely engine."

"Stop it! Get out! NO!" Mallard yelled but he felt Scotsman dig into his memories of Merlin and tighten his grip. He attempted to push the other engine out but Scotsman lashed out at him causing pain to explode in his mind.

The Black Smoke swarmed around confused and frightened. Mallard felt it edge away from Scotsman, feeling threatened and wary. Scotsman’s Gold dust was stronger than any other engine, it burned and it was fierce like a steady wall of advancing lava.

He’d made a mistake. Scotsman was too powerful, for as much Black Smoke under his command, Mallard had not anticipated an engine's gold dust being able to overwhelm him.

“I want to see Mallard,” Scotsman’s voice hummed. “Let me see please.”

“No! Stop it! Asshole!” Mallard bit back but golden light overwhelmed him and he shrieked in pain unable to stop Scotsman.

“How about I show you some of my memories instead?” Scotsman asked, his voice distant.

~~~

“Do you have a minute to talk?” Silver Link asked as Flying Scotsman found himself ready to depart home for the night after a long run from Scotland.

“Depends on what you want to talk about doesn’t it?” Scotsman said with a yawn. He was tired, he wanted to sleep after a long 14-hour journey. “I’ve had a long day, Link, I do not wish to engage in any shenanigans. Especially ones involving Bittern as fun as he is.”

“It’s about Great Northern and how he’s treating Mallard. Not to mention the number of times we’ve been overworked these days,” Sliver Link interrupted Scotsman. “My brothers are holding an indignation meeting and we’d like to invite you to drive home the point to Sir Gresley.”

Flying Scotsman looked over at Silver Link, who was looking at him grimly. Sounds like the A4s had also had enough of Great Northern’s attitude towards them at long last and the A3 found himself wide awake despite his aches and exhausted nature.

“Certainly, I think we’ve all had more than enough of that old boiler, shall I go and fetch Polly as well? She has more sway over King’s Cross than I.”

“Quicksilver is distracting Great Northern and taking him away from Sir Gresley’s workshop so please hurry,” Link intoned. “She can’t keep the old fool busy for long, you know how he is.”

“I do indeed,” Scotsman said with no humour. “I’ll meet you at the workshop.”

Without another word the Flying Scotsman quickly raced to the sheds and found Pretty Polly, taking her, albeit protesting and complaining on her part, to Sir Gresley’s workshop.

“How long have you been awake?” Polly nagged. “You’re performing like you have a spanner in your gear!”

“Listen it’s important!” He whined annoyed at Polly. “Stop complaining will you? The Silvers want back up on dealing with Great Northern!”

“Oh!” Polly said suddenly interested. “About time! North’s a bad boiler and needs to get the rust out of his funnel.”

Scotsman’s wheels suddenly slipped and ground the rails and he groaned in exhaustion. Polly looked concerned.

“Are you alright?” She asked concerned as he slipped into a siding to stop. She couldn’t see his face but she knew that Scotsman was completely and utterly drained from his two-way trip from Edinburgh.

“I’m just so tired,” he huffed exhausted. “I need to rest but, I can’t let the Silver’s down, they asked for me personally.”

Normally a single engine didn’t do a two-way trip on the Flying Scotsman Express but after the return engine had failed to be fired up, Scotsman had had to complete the entire journey twice on the same day. It was happening a lot more often these days.

Polly had had to do the same thing just over a week ago and she could sympathise with her older brother. At the end of it, she had felt completely broken.

“Why don’t you let your crew fire me up and I’ll take us to Doncaster older brother,” Polly said deeply concerned. “I don’t like how the directors are letting us down. I can see why the Silvers are pissed off. Our Railway has become something of a joke.”

Flying Scotsman grunted an affirmation but said nothing more, allowing his crew to carefully shut him down and move to Pretty Polly. It took a long while but finally, they were able to get her fire started and soon she was pushing Scotsman down the mainline.

“Thank you Polly,” Scotsman said sleepily.

“That’s okay big brother, you just rest for a bit,” Polly said sweetly. “Don’t want my old man of a brother to blow out a valve now do we?"

“I’m not that old,” Scotsman grumbled and Polly just giggled to herself.

After a while Scotsman was awoken by Polly whistling and found himself being shunted into the workshop, Silver Link and Silver King already there and looking annoyed.

“I told you to hurry,” Link chastised him but Scotsman glared at him.

“I had to take the Flying Scotsman both ways today, shut up!” He snapped grumpily at the silver engine. “I am exhausted beyond exhaustion!”

“Both ways?” Sir Gresley’s voice suddenly called and the Scotsman looked down and saw their designer standing before the Silver’s worried. “I told the directors not to overload my engines! It could lead to wearing out parts and overheating issues!”

“The engine stationed at Edinburgh did not start and they had none left to spare,” Scotsman said wearily. “I had no choice but to take it, sir. I am proud of the work I do, but I cannot do this every day. Polly had the same issue last week. I think their repair yard is lacking resources, sir."

“That is one of the reasons why we have held an indignation meeting today sir,” Silver King said importantly. “We are being overworked and engines are not where they should be. There has been no communication between our crews and the higher-ups. We also have another issue to discuss with you, it’s about Mallard.”

“Mallard?”

“Yes,” Silver King intoned. “Mallard has made friends with Merlin, however, he is being isolated and overworked by Great Northern. There have been a few minor incidents with Mallard having overflows and risking both his crews and passengers to try and please North. It is getting out of control.”

“He’s pushing himself too far sir,” Link said sadly. “He’s taking on far too many jobs that Merlin has had to do a few behind his back just so Mallard can rest.”

“He’s doing all this to try and please North?” Polly asked extremely concerned. “I knew that old fool was a bad influence on him!”

Sir Gresley looked deeply troubled.

“I may have pushed Great Northern too far,” He admitted quietly. “I did threaten him if Mallard did not perform, however, I only meant it for the record.”

“Sir, may I confess something?” Scotsman suddenly asked out of the blue. Sir Gresley looked up at him.

“Yes, Scotsman?”

“Great Northern abused me in the same way,” he said. “He tried to work me until my wheels felt like they were going to fall off and never once encouraged me. He always demeaned me and made me feel like nothing.”

Scotsman spoke through tears now clearly upset and rattled.

“Even after I became the first to reach 100mph, he still bullied me and threatened me if I didn’t perform. That night my valve gear malfunctioned on the non-stop express back to King’s Cross? He specifically sought me out and dressed me down for something that wasn’t even my fault,” Scotsman continued upset. “I know you want the best out of us sir, but North’s treatment was abuse and it was never going to work!”

Sir Gresley stared up at Scotsman who was now crying. He walked over and laid a comforting hand on Scotsman’s buffer beam.

“Why didn’t you tell me this Scott?” He asked and Scotsman refused to look down at the man out of embarrassment.

“I thought, I thought you would be mad at me for speaking up against Great Northern,” he said tearfully. “North is your favourite engine after all. I didn’t want to upset you but, I don’t want him to do the same thing to Mallard sir.”

Sir Gresley observed Scotsman quietly for a few long seconds before he gave a deep sigh.

“Great Northern is not my favourite Scotsman,” Sir Gresley said quietly. “You are. I apologise, for not noticing how North was treating you."

"Can you at least stop him from treating Mallard badly?" Scotsman asked.

Silver King stepped in, however.

"I fear it may be too late," he said glumly. "Mallard cannot be reasoned with and he has become very standoffish and incites conflict with other engines. We have tried to lead him in a better direction but he seems to have made his mind up. Even Merlin, who Mallard confides in is having difficulty curbing his troublesome nature."

Sir Gresley looked extremely concerned. He nodded to his lead engines.

"I will have Great Northern moved to work in Scotland in the hell hills with Rooster and the other P2s," he said and a collective exhale sounded around the workshop.

The Hell Hills were an engine's worst nightmare on the LNER. They sat between Edinburgh and Aberdeen and they were called the Hell Hills for a very good reason.

The inclines on that part of the railway were so steep that no A3 nor A4 could climb them without the help of another large express engine. Gresley's P2's had been made for that very purpose, to climb those hills with no aid just their pure power and strength.

Cock 'O the North, or Rooster as he was called led these engines and his siblings dwarfed even the A3 and A4 Pacifics. They did not take kindly to being ordered around by the 'little Pacific engines'. Rooster himself was a huge Scottish engine that took nothing from anyone.

To be sent to work with them on the Scottish highlands meant that you had truly insulted or displeased the directors or Sir Gresley. The P2s pushed their engines hard and they expecting nothing but the best of those around them. They were some of the most powerful engines on the LNER and to argue with them was foolish as it was stupid.

"Rooster's going to have fun with North," Polly sniggered to herself.

Scotsman yawned. "I saw him today, he called me a flying shrimp."

"Well, you are a shrimp compared to him," Silver King laughed.

"So are you, King of the Shrimps," Scotsman snapped back. He immediately blushed and looked shameful when Sir Gresley looked at him disapprovingly.

"Sorry sir, I'm just tired," Scotsman lied. He could tell their designer wasn't buying it but didn't want to press him.

"I will speak with the directors about fixing the timetables and getting resources for our Scottish works," Sir Gresley told the other engines. "I cannot have my engines running themselves into the ground. It could cause accidents and overheated hotboxes. I thank you all for bringing this to my attention. If necessary I may call upon all of you to argue your cases to the directors themselves."

"Yes sir!" The engines chorused.

"You are all dismissed!" He said turning his heel and walking away.

"Um, sir?" Polly called out to their designer.

"Yes, Pretty Polly?" He asked, annoyed.

"Scotsman doesn't have a crew sir, he shunted me until his wheels started slipping so we stopped and he swapped his crew out," she explained.

"Ah I see," he stroked his moustache in deep thought. "Well then Scotsman, you're welcome to spend the night here. I'll have another engine replace you for tomorrow."

"Thank you sir! I'm truly grateful sir!" He said completely exhausted.

Sir Gresley smiled at the Scotsman before looking at Polly.

"Of you go Polly, safe journey," he said with a little wave.

"Goodbye, sir!" She called and departed with a tired but joyous whistle.

Sir Gresley turned to speak with Flying Scotsman however when he gazed upon his face he found the engine already sound asleep.

Sir Gresley chuckled to himself and went over and laid a hand on the engine's buffer. The Scotsman's eye twitched slightly but he didn't react anymore.

Hopefully, Scotsman's Golden Soul would never deplete and last for 100 if not a thousand years. Sir Gresley didn't want to think of a world without these remarkable engines and their differing personalities. Certainly, the Directors wanted obedient and confirming machines but that just wasn't what a steam engine was.

They were temperamental. They consumed 'food', they breathed and they produced waste, unlike anything else mankind had ever created. They could argue and they could simply refuse to work for no reason at all.

They truly were 'alive' unlike the other machines humans made. Sometimes he forgot that but having four of his biggest engines confront him on their issues certainly reminded him of that.

Every single one was unique and every single one was special.

He was truly honoured to have engineered such remarkable things.

A loud whistle echoed through the workshop, however, Scotsman did not stir, completely dead to the world around him.

Sir Gresley did not take his hand off Scotsman's buffer as he turned to meet the engine. It was Great Northern, who looked very annoyed and indignant.

"Sir forgive me! That ridiculous Quicksilver held me upon my return from overseeing Mallard," North exclaimed importantly. "That young engine has become most indignant and-"

He stopped when he noticed the sleeping Flying Scotsman, out like a light with Sir Gresley standing next to him looking both sad and angry.

"Is something wrong sir? Why is 4472 here?"

"He is resting for the night in my workshop," Sir Gresley said with a glance at Scotsman. "He has had an exhausting day."

Great Northern huffed.

"Probably not used to it-" he stopped when Sir Gresley held up his hand.

"There was an issue at Edinburgh, it's none of your concern," he said. "There have been complaints about you from the other engines."

North snorted.

"Probably Pretty Polly and her ideas," he said dismissively. "It's not right to have such an engine order myself around let alone a woman."

"Enough!" Sir Gresley snapped and North immediately became quiet. "Polly is well founded in her complaints and I will not have you demean her! Mallard has been taking too many risks and putting his passengers and crew in danger to please you."

"But sir-"

"No Great Northern, I have been ignoring this issue for far too long. I pushed you too hard, yes, but you took it in the worst way possible," Sir Gresley rounded on him stalking towards him. "I asked you to discipline and train Scotsman and Mallard, not abuse them!"

"I am not abusing them, sir! I am teaching them the right way to behave!" North shouted back.

"Do not argue with me!" Sir Gresley snapped. "The fact that I had to have an indignation meeting with all 4 heads of the LNER Pacific's should give you an idea of how serious this is!"

North was about to speak but the glare his designer was giving him made him stop. He'd truly done something to piss the man off and now he was scared.

"I'm sending you to Edinburgh to work with Cock 'O the North and the other P2s," Sir Gresley said coldly. "You will be replaced by another engine to oversee the awakening of new engines."

"But sir please!"

"Enough!" Sir Gresley cut him down. "I gave you a lot of free will because you were my confidant, however, I see you just used that to lord 'authority' over the other engines. You abused your power as my personal engine and I will not have it!"

Scotsman wearily opened his eyes as he was awakened by Sir Gresley's shouting.

"Sir?" He mumbled wearily.

"I apologise for waking you Scotsman," Sir Gresley said sympathetically. He turned back to North. He looked angry and devastated.

"Get out of my sight," Gresley snapped at him. "You are no longer welcome to use the private berths here."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," he said regretfully. He looked at the Scotsman who looked confused but was also drifting off to sleep very quickly. He glared at 4472 but said no more, quickly exiting the workshop.

Sir Gresley watched him go before turning back to the Scotsman who had quickly fallen back to sleep. He chuckled to himself before closing down the workshop for the night.

~~~

"Merlin?" Mallard asked as his elder brother backed into the berth next to him. "I'm not supposed to talk to you let alone be in the same building as you. What if North sees?"

The older engine just laughed.

"Tell me, my dear brother, did you see that neurotic and nasty engine today?" Merlin asked and Mallard paused.

He hadn't seen Great Northern all day. He'd been constantly paranoid, always looking and searching for the A3 Pacific. Always anxious about what he'd done wrong this time or if he would get caught talking to the other engines.

"I did not," he realised. He looked over to Merlin who had a mysterious smile on his face.

“Did you do something?”

“Not I, but the heads of the Pacific’s held an indignation meeting about North last night,” Merlin smiled to himself. “He’s been sent to work in the Hell Hills with Rooster and the big lads.”

“He’s what!?” Mallard yelled loudly, eliciting a loud yell from one of the other engines in the shed. “Oh no, oh no this is bad! He’ll blame me! He’ll take it out on me!”

“Mallard,” Merlin said sternly and the young engine quieted down but still look worried. “Great Northern is not the ruler of the railway. The Board of Directors and Sir Gresley are the ones who control the railway.”

“But North will hurt me, he'll, he'll give me even more jobs to do!” Mallard said sadly. “He’ll blame me for this!”

“Then the Silver’s will defend you, I will defend you. Gresley’s decision is not your fault,” Merlin said proudly. “You are my younger brother and if North even thinks of coming near you, I’ll deal with him myself.”

Mallard looked over at Merlin who gave him an encouraging smile.

“Why would you do that? Is it because I’m the fastest and best engine in the world?”

Merlin gave a good-humoured chuckle.

“No dearest brother, I did it because you’re my friend,” Merlin smiled at him. "I would have done it before or even if you hadn't achieved your record."

"Are you- are you proud of me Merlin?" Mallard asked and Merlin smiled.

"Of course I am," Merlin chimed. "I will always be proud of you. You need not concern yourself with impressing yourself with North anymore. He is after all in disgrace with Sir Gresley, do you want an engine like that to approve of you?"

Mallard looked away and then down at his buffers. Merlin was right. Why was he so desperate to please an engine that Sir Gresley had sent to work with the Mikado's?

Mallard smirked to himself.

"Ridiculous old fool," he snorted.

"Does this mean that you'll stop acting a fool in trying to impress an engine who isn't worth your time and who caused you a lot of pain?" Merlin asked.

Mallard looked ashamed of himself. Merlin had said this many times before but this was the first time he was hearing Merlin's words.

Great Northern had truly been terrible to him. Part of him still wanted to make him proud though but if Sir Gresley said otherwise then, he had no choice but to accept it.

"Yes Merlin," Mallard admitted quietly. "I won't go chasing pointless endeavours."

"I'm glad, the heads of the pacifics will be pleased to hear that," Merlin smiled. "I think tomorrow will be a new day for you, Mallard. A chance to get your life back on track as it were."

Merlin chuckled at his own joke but Mallard just rolled his eyes at it.

"Time to get some sleep my young friend," Merlin advised and closed his eyes.

Mallard, however, stayed away long into the night. His mind constantly turned and the memories of North chastising him, saying how ugly his shape was, always praising Scotsman and saying what a fine engine he was replayed in his head.

The more they replayed the angrier he grew.

And the angrier he grew, the more vicious and nasty his thoughts of revenge on North became.

Great Northern had treated him like a doormat. He'd constantly pushed him around and made him feel worthless.

He wasn't worthless, he was the fastest engine in the world! He wasn't some coddled engine like North was, who gloomily rolled around the yards like he owned them.

Great Northern hadn't even set a record for himself, not like Scotsman, Papyrus or Silver Link!

He was a joke.

A cruel grin flashed across his face.

The next time he saw North, he wouldn't be a snivelling grovelling fool. That was in the past.

Mallard glanced at Merlin who was snoring softly to himself.

Yes, Mallard decided, North would no longer push him around. And he never would again.

~~~

A few weeks later, Mallard found himself pulling into the Edinburgh Terminus for the Flying Scotsman.

He'd been approved by the directors, Polly and Scotsman themselves to join the LNER's London team, a team only the elite engines were part of. Polly had been beside herself with pride to have two Famous engines working side by side.

Flying Scotsman himself was very welcoming although he had told Mallard to ease up on the boasting as some engines and railway workers did not like it.

Mallard chose to ignore that advice as he felt that Scotsman was probably jealous.

The passengers themselves swooned and fawned over him. The famous Mallard was pulling their train, they'd cry overjoyed.

Why wouldn't they swoon? He was such a stately engine! Such a magnificent sight to behold!

However the most important thing was Mallard could stretch his wheels, he could run at full pelt down the line as the Flying Scotsman express allowed such speed and power. Unlike the previous express trains and jobs which were short and often speed limited, this train was the very definition of power.

The passengers getting off his train all cheered, congratulated him and thanked him for their journey. It hadn't been the smoothest but he was famous and that forgave the bumps he found.

He smiled to himself as slowly the crowds died down and he was uncoupled from his train and allowed to rest in the yard.

He sat there for a while, humming to himself, ignoring the irritating little tank engines that went about their ways and the loud Scottish engines who laughed and cheered at each other as they went about their days.

How annoying.

"Why aren't you working?" A familiar voice suddenly snapped at him. He flinched instinctively at the sound of his voice but did not give the engine in question the pleasure of whimpering in servitude or begging for approval as he once did.

"Don't talk to me like that, you disgraceful engine!" Mallard snapped back importantly.

Great Northern looked shocked.

"Excuse me? What did you say to me, you little ingrate?" He snarled. "You don't talk to your superior engine like that 4468!"

"I think you'll find it's Mallard, you old fool," Mallard snapped. "You should address me as such."

North glared at him.

"Just because I have lost favour with our designer does not mean you can speak to me with such disrespect!" He shouted at the A4.

"Oh I think it does," Mallard smiled a vicious grin. "Why would I respect an engine who lost Sir Gresley's favour and did not show me any reason to respect him in turn? I was very wrong to want the favour of an old broken down engine such as you."

"Broken down? Broken down!" North thundered furiously. "Now you listen here, boy-!"

"No!" Mallard shouted above North, drawing the attention of some of the shunters. "Listen to me you rusty old boiler! I am NOT going to lie around and let you step all over me like Flying Scotsman!"

Mallard hissed steam and air out in a loud bellow that drew attention even more.

"I am the fastest, the best engine in the world!" Mallard yelled at him. "I pushed myself beyond my limits to achieve my goals and yet what have you ever done? You've never achieved any records nor have you ever helped another engine. You're a joke!"

Great Northern stood his ground but Mallard could see hurt in his eyes.

"Don't you ever speak to me again you waste an engine! A disgrace engine like you should never speak to a grand engine such as I!" Mallard snarled. "I'm glad you're up here with the others! It means I can do my work for once!"

A silence echoed across the yard as Mallard glared daggers at Great Northern. The A3 Pacific was shocked, no one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had ever dared.

"You are an insolent and horrible engine-" North began but he was cut off by a loud deep whistle that shook his boiler.

One of the enormous P2 Mikado engines had entered the yard and it was just North's luck that it was Cock 'O the North, head of the Edinburgh engines.

"Why are yer shrimps makin' so much noise!?" He boomed angrily in a heavy Scottish accent. "Yer all are suppose' ter be working!"

Cock 'O the North was truly an intimidating engine, many times larger than an A3 or A4 pacific he towered over both Mallard and Great Northern. The cowl over his smokebox cast dark shadows across his face and made him look even more menacing.

When he moved, the little shunters moved to allow him to pass and every rotation of his wheels sounded threatening.

Although Mallard was completely intimidated by this massive engine he didn't dare show it as the engine put himself between Mallard and Great Northern.

"I dunna know how yer work down in the south but we dunna waste time with petty arguments here!" Rooster hollered at the both of them. "We are hard workers here! None of that time wastin' yer English seem ter be always doing!"

The enormous engine then looked down at Great Northern.

"What have I told ye about picking fights with other engines?" He snapped angrily. "Madadh-allaidh be waiting for his connection at Aberdeen! You best be goin' Great Shrimp!"

Great Northern looked like he wanted to argue but the look Cock 'O the North gave him convinced him otherwise. Great Northern avoided Mallard's gaze as he quickly departed to take his next train.

"I apologise for wasting your time and patience sir," Mallard said diplomatically. He thought it best to not boast for once and try and at the very least get on this engine's good side.

Pretty Polly had warned him not to challenge or boast to these engines. They didn't care for records and work to them was everything. Going around saying you were better than them would make them and the shunters target you for bullying.

"Sir? Sir?" Cock 'O the North gave a loud booming laugh. "Yer English are all so proper. It's just Rooster me good man!"

"Rooster," Mallard said curiously. "Always with the bird names with Sir Gresley."

Rooster laughed. "I had ter change it, yer English always get so flustered if I ask yer to call me 'Cock' all the time!"

"I don't see why, that's a human euphemism," Mallard said politely. "We are engines, we don't have such things. But I will call you Rooster if wish."

"I dunna care either way," Rooster admitted. "You that fast shrimp?"

Mallard's eyes widened, surprised that this big engine had recognised him.

"I am," Mallard remarked. "I'm Mallard. Pleased to meet you."

"Nice ter meet yer, Mallard! A little word of advice, don't be boasting and foolish here like that Great North fella, it ain't looked on too well," Rooster warned. "Yer earn yer respect here, it ain't given away."

Mallard smiled warmly at the bigger engine. He was big and intimidating, but he seemed friendly under that cowl.

"I'll do no such thing Rooster," he smiled, meaning it for once. "You can count on it."

"Glad ter hear it!"

~~~

Chapter Text

22 - No.4468 - Part III

~~~

Trigger warning for death(s) and graphic description of injuries/death.

~~~

“What an ugly, fat thing you are,” a voice with a thick Welsh accent spoke snidely. Mallard immediately opened his eyes enraged and went to dress down whoever had spoken but was shocked to see Flying Scotsman hissing steam furiously and looking the angriest he had ever seen him.

Sitting on one of the platforms opposite Scotsman and Mallard was a Great Western with a golden trim and an expression of utter distaste as he looked at both engines.

“You’re not welcome here, you pathetic excuse of an engine!” Scotsman snarled at it shocking Mallard with his aggressiveness. “Maybe your designer should have put more effort into making you run better instead of dressing you in gold like some tarted-up harlot!”

“A harlot? A harlot!” The engine, with City of Truro on his nameplate, shrieked. “It’s about looking presentable, not like you, you bloated galloping sausage! You look like that high-pressure monstrosity Stainer designed but even more undignified!”

“Well, you’re an old rusted heap of an engine! I’m surprised that gold is even shiny the way you go about with your square wheels!” Scotsman spat back. “You sure you can even get to 60? You look like your tyres would fall off if you even tried!”

“At least I’m not a pretentious attention whore! Look at your fat face plastered all over the LNER, it’s disgusting!” City of Truro sneered. “I’m surprised you don’t tip over and derail, it's so fat!”

Mallard stared bewildered, unsure how to react to this argument. It was drawing attention and passengers and station staff had gathered. The Stationmaster tried to stop the two engines from arguing and disgracing themselves in front of the public.

He'd never seen Flying Scotsman of all engines, the nice, friendly, charming engine who was always kind even to the worthless shunters, acting like an angry childish teenager.

“You are an outdated piece of garbage from an inferior railway!” Scotsman shouted angrily at Truro.

“You should be melted down and turned into rails!” Truro shouted back.

“That is enough!” Pretty Polly snapped at the two arguing engines. “You are BOTH acting disgracefully! Scotsman you will uncouple from that train and another engine will take it! Truro, I’ll have another engine escort you back to Swindon.”

“I don’t see we the both of you are arguing,” Mallard spoke up, over Polly. “Your records pale in comparison to my achievement.”

Polly glared at Mallard as now Scotsman and Truro suddenly glared at him.

“100mph is nothing to sneeze at you oversized green toaster!” Truro snapped at Mallard. “Regardless of who achieved it first, we paved the way for your own record. Do not disrespect it.”

“Quite right!” Scotsman said, throwing a glare at the smaller engine. “Although I don’t want to agree with this rusty old boiler, it is inappropriate to demean others' achievements in place of your own.”

“Yet you demean each other!” Mallard snapped angrily. He was annoyed that these engines were being hypocritical with him.

“Because Truro’s record is not official! And it was done at great risk to his crew!”

“Oh like you haven't done something against code you public menace!” Truro shot back to which Flying Scotsman suddenly blasted steam at the platform and Mallard who sat beside him.

“Don’t you hiss steam at me, you underachiever!” Mallard shouted at him.

By this point, both Polly and the Stationmaster had had enough and ordered Scotsman’s crew to take him away.

Polly rounded on Mallard. “As soon as your train comes you will take it without delay and you will not speak!” She ordered.

“I don’t take orders from a woman!” Mallard snarled and Polly looked furious and Truro looked aghast.

“This engine is your superior and elder!” Truro told him shocked. “You do not question superiors no matter what gender they are. This is the Great Western Way. I assumed it was the same way on the LNER, no matter the boisterousness of the engine.”

“We’re not on the joke of a railway you call the Great Western you old rust bucket! An important engine such as I would never be found on such a hovel of a place!"

“Mallard!” Polly scolded.

"Well, I really!" Truro scoffed.

“Oh so Scotsman’s allowed to argue and insult other engines but I’m not? I see how it is, LNER’s poster boy gets all the special treatment!” Mallard scoffed. “How hypocritical!”

“That’s not what-“

“Shut up Polly,” Mallard snarled at her and Polly looked insulted and aghast. "You're as awful as Great Northern says you are!"

“How dare you!”

There was a loud clunk as Mallard’s coaches were shunted to him. Almost immediately his crew moved to start him and the guard hurried the passengers into his train, everyone frustrated and upset.

“The directors and Sir Gresley will hear about this!” Polly snapped as Mallard pulled away.

“Like they would ever do anything to the fastest and best engine in the world!” Mallard crowed leaving his cousin and the Great Western behind without a look back.

~~~

"Mallard," Merlin's voice called to him as he pretended to be asleep. "I know you're awake. I would like to know why you've been taken off of the Flying Scotsman and put under 'maintenance leave' for the next few weeks?"

Mallard hesitantly opened his eye. Merlin had his stern voice on. Mallard didn't like it when Merlin was stern with him, he rarely ever was and it made him feel all the more ashamed when his elder brother used it.

"I don't know," Mallard said sheepishly. He felt like a little kid. He knew Merlin would see through his lies.

"Mallard-"

"Why is Flying Scotsman allowed to act insulting towards that gold stained freak and I'm not?" Mallard suddenly shouted.

"You'll be pleased to know that Scotsman was punished for his disgraceful behaviour," Merlin informed his baby brother. "He is also under 'maintenance leave.'"

Mallard snorted in mirth. At least he wasn't the only one being punished.

"But there is more to your leave than Scotsman's," Merlin continued. "Regarding Pretty Polly."

Mallard paled at Merlin's words.

"Pretty Polly?"

"Yes, you have said some very unfortunate things to her," Merlin narrowed his eyes at Mallard. "Things that she thinks Great Northern taught you, is she right?"

"I- uh- I'm not sure I understand," Mallard stammered.

Great Northern had always ranted and drilled it into Mallard that Polly wasn't a good leader of the Roundhouse because of her gender. There were probably other reasons too, but Polly never was a good replacement as leader of the King's Cross fleet in North's opinion.

"Would you say the same thing to Quicksilver?" Merlin asked. "She is one of the A4 leaders. Would you go up to her and tell her the same thing?"

"What- I- No! Of course not!" Mallard denied. "I respect Quicksilver! She taught me and supported me when I was new!"

"Then why did you think it was appropriate to say that to Polly?" Merlin demanded. "Quicksilver wanted to confront you on this herself but I managed to convince her I would deal with this behaviour in a more friendly manner. She'll confront you if she hears more from Polly however."

"I- I'm sorry," Mallard looked upset. He didn't want to face Quicksilver, she could be terrifying in her own right.

"Polly wants an apology in person," Merlin said. "You're a good engine Mallard but sometimes you need to keep quiet and not get involved with others especially when they were acting like Scotsman. Sir Gresley is furious with him right now and this is not the first time a fight with Truro has happened."

Mallard frowned.

"Truro started the fight, he insulted Scotsman," he argued. "It's the Great Western's fault."

"Regardless, Scotsman should not have reacted the way he did," Merlin chided. "You need to apologise to Polly or you will not be put back on the Flying Scotsman."

"But-"

"No buts, and or ifs," Merlin said sternly. "I care about you Mallard, I don't like to see you fail or get into trouble, so I want to give you the chance to repair things. I hope you understand that."

Mallard gave a deep sigh and looked down at his buffers with a quiet acceptance. Merlin was sheltering him from both Quicksilver and Polly's wrath.

Mallard looked back up at Merlin who looked at him expectantly. Mallard gave a heavy sigh.

He didn't like admitting fault. It meant he was fallible, a sign of weakness. But he also didn't want to upset Merlin.

"I'll apologise to Polly tomorrow," he finally said.

"I'm glad to hear that Mallard," Merlin smiled at him. “If you ever need something or want to talk, I am always here for you Mallard. You know that right?”

Mallard looked at his buffers embarrassed. He didn’t want to admit it but having Merlin around had truly meant so much to him. Merlin was always there when he needed him, even if he at the time hadn’t felt it.

Merlin loved him unconditionally, despite everything he had done or how boastful he was.

He was everything he wanted from Great Northern, he realised. Merlin gave him unconditional respect and love while North had just been spiteful and hateful for literally no reason. Oh how he had wished Merlin had trained him instead of that angry spiteful old man.

“Yes, I know that Merlin,” Mallard mumbled to him. “Thank-you.”

“You’re very welcome Mallard.”

Both engines looked up as Gadwell appeared in the yard and began reversing into their sheds for the night.

"Hello, Mallard! Hello Merlin!" The young engine chirped looking eagerly at his big brothers.

Mallard gave a small smile, he liked Gadwell. He was only a few months younger than himself and he was an excitable and enthusiastic engine who looked up to Mallard.

"Good evening Gadwell," Mallard said, simply happy to have a little distraction from the day's events and keep his shame at bay. He loved the attention, he loved getting recognition for his hard work. If only Great Northern had acknowledged his work, everything he had done to impress the old engine.

With a slight frown, Mallard pushed North from his mind. Although said engine was back on the LNER’s main thoroughfares, he’d been kept away from the mainline and was no longer the voice of the A3 Pacific’s. That honour had been given to Scotsman and Polly, although Polly regrettably did most of the talking while Scotsman was more of a ‘friendly’ face.

No backbone on that ridiculous engine. He’d given up his position to be Sir Gresley’s personal engine to the A4 No.4498, ‘Sir Nigel Gresley’, saying it was more appropriate for the sterner and better named engine to be his spokesperson.

Mallard looked back at Gadwell, who now sat beside him waiting patiently for Mallard’s attention.

"4498 says hello," Gadwell said happily. "He says I'm doing well, but I need to stop pretending to be Mallard."

Mallard chuckled. "No offence Gadwell but I doubt Sir Gresley would allow another record attempt."

Gadwell took it well.

"Oh I know, I just like pretending I'm you," Gadwell said with an embarrassed blush. "It's nice to believe for a second that I'm the best engine on the rails."

Mallard grinned widely. At first, he had hated Gadwell, not understanding the need for new engines like himself and feeling threatened by them.

However, Gadwell never showed any interest in beating his record. He was more interested in impressing his big brother. Indeed, it got annoying at times but Gadwell never meant harm and it was always nice to have the ego boost on a day like today. Sometimes if they met on a line, Gadwall asked Mallard to race him and Mallard would happily oblige, no matter if he got into trouble.

He looked over at Merlin who was smiling at him. Merlin liked seeing Mallard and Gadwell get along. Mallard was happy with the young engine and the two got along like a well-oiled valve gear. Mallard didn't have any other friends, so he was glad to see the famous engine have someone to confide in other than himself.

After Gadwell had appeared in his life, Mallard had calmed and become a lot more sociable and pleasant. Certainly it had taken a while but Mallard was slowly getting better. Hopefully Gadwell’s presence would help Mallard for many, many years.

~~~

Mallard and Merlin were surprised to find 4498, Sir Nigel, coming into their bunker early one morning. The war had seen the engines seldom see or meet each other unless it was necessary to avoid getting the attention of German spies.

Mallard especially was a target for them and so, he was hidden away, far from London, as had many other engines. Surprisingly, Flying Scotsman still worked, disguised as just another A3 pacific working goods trains.

Mallard had laughed until Merlin had scolded him. Scotsman, his siblings and many of their own siblings now worked running goods trains to all over the country and even to other railways everything was looking bleak. The rivalry of the Big 4 Railways did not matter in such trying times. Only surviving mattered.

LNER, LMS, GWR and Southern Engines all working together, sometimes sheltering with each other just to survive the night, frightened the bombs may land on their sheds and destroy them. It was remarkable to see.

Mallard was just glad he was no where near London. His attitude upset Merlin he knew, but he just thought that Merlin didn’t have any faith in their country. They’d win the war, just as Mallard had beaten the Germans at their own record. Merlin was not pleased at his dismissive attitude and always warned him against his flippant attitude towards the war.

“Good Morning Sir Nigel,” Merlin greeted his brother.

4498 looked devastated and Merlin felt a horrifying feeling creep into his boiler. 4498 was usually the one to give bad news. Last year he had had to pass on the news of their designers death. He’d become an omen of bad tidings, the poor engine.

Sir Nigel recognised the realisation of Merlin’s face and gave a heavy sigh.

“As you can tell I’m not here for a social visit,” he said gruffly. “I have some upsetting news.”

Sir Nigel glanced at Mallard, clearly worried how the young engine was going to take the news. Merlin gave a sharp intake of breath realising why 4498 had come all the way to see them.

“Is it Gadwell?” He asked and a flicker of sympathy and hurt flashed across 4498’s face. “He was at Doncaster for repairs. Did, did they target the workshops?”

“An air raid over his shed happened last night at Doncaster, a bomb was dropped on to his shed and landed right next to him and 925,” Sir Nigel’s voice was stoic but his eyes held devastation. “The engineers say his soul was immediately severed from his engine during the impact. He was killed instantly and his engine will be scrapped. I’m so sorry.”

The three engines sat in complete silence for a tense and deadly moment.

“You’re lying,” Mallard suddenly accused, breaking the silence. The two elder engines looked at him.

“I assure you, I am not lying young Mallard,” Sir Nigel mournfully told Mallard.

“Shut up!” Mallard suddenly shouted. “This is just a stupid trick Merlin is doing to make me take the war seriously!”

“This is no trick Mallard,” Merlin said quietly, understanding the young engines distress. He himself didn’t want to believe it.

“I will leave you to process this,” 4498 took his leave.

“No don’t run away, you lair!” Mallard shouted angrily as their brother left. He looked desperately to Merlin. “Merlin! Merlin! Do something! This liar is getting away!”

“Mallard just-” Merlin tried to stop Mallard’s incessant yellings of denial but he found himself getting choked up and upset. “Just stop- Don’t-”

Mallard stopped his shouting as Merlin began stumbling over his words and began to freely cry. He’d never seen Merlin cry before. It hurt him in ways he’d never experienced.

Merlin was truly upset. This wasn’t a trick or a joke.

Gadwell was dead.

He fell silent and quiet, not sure how to respond.

The two engines sat for hours in the bunker, still not really processing the young bright engines death. The only noises were Merlin’s sniffling and crying to which Mallard did not interrupt, his mind in a cloud of mixed emotions.

He didn't feel sad or angry. He just felt numb and confused.

Gadwell would appear next to him one day, challenging Mallard to a race. This wasn't real.

This couldn't be real.

“Merlin,” Mallard asked, his voice piercing through Merlin’s thoughts. Merlin didn’t answer, still distraught and in pain.

“Can you promise me something Merlin?” Mallard’s voice came again, this time sounding like a scared child. The tone of his voice caught Merlin’s attention and he looked at the famous engine. He sounded vulnerable, hurt and terrified, something that Mallard never was.

“What is it Mallard?” He said concern filling his voice. “Mallard, please tell me so I can help you.”

There was a moment of silence before Mallard spoke up.

“You’re, you’re the only friend I have now,” Mallard admitted sadly. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Merlin looked at Mallard, his face both terrified and deeply sad.

“Please,” Mallard begged him. “Merlin please.”

“I’ll do my very best Mallard,” Merlin gave the engine a reassuring smile. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe and be by your side always.”

Mallard gave Merlin a brave smile.

“Thank-you Merlin.”

~~~

“This Mallard has become a reckless and unstable individual!” Thompson snapped at the directors. “His actions almost killed passengers and he constantly endangers his crew! It is just more idiotic ways of Gresley engines!”

Sir Nigel Gresley, 4498, glared at the little man and hissed a little bit of steam but said nothing. Beside him the Board of Directors shared his distaste.

Ever since the young Gadwell's death, Mallard had become inconsolable, reckless and even more boastful and violent.

“Then what would you propose?” Mr Sutcliffe folded his arms with a glance at the other directors. “Mallard is a world record holder. The fastest steam engine in the world, a record that is unlikely to ever be beaten. You cannot scrap him, nor can you rebuild him into one of your faulty monstrosities like you did with Great Northern.”

Thompson frowned but then smiled to himself.

“Sir Gresley was a proponent for Gold Dust,” he said. “He seemed to think giving engines sentience and their own thoughts would make them efficient or special somehow when in face it only makes them disobedient and reckless.”

“Are you suggesting taking out the Gold Dust from Mallard?” Mr Walsworth asked shocked. “That’s- that’s never been done before and Sir Gresley forbade it. It’s a cruel practice and no railway worth their salt would try it!”

“Sir Gresley is not here, do you understand?” Thompson shouted at the men angrily. “I am the Chief Engineer of this railway now!”

“If you keep acting the way you do you won’t be for any longer!” Sir Marwood shouted at the man angrily. “You act more like an angry child than our chief engineer! You are short tempered, controlling and you have no respect for the engines! We've had nothing but constant resignations of those under your employ!"

“They're weak willed men! And the engines will all be scrapped eventually!” Thompson shouted back. “Just like the classes that came before them! You fools need to stop treating them like beings and more like machines! That’s all they are! Machines!”

Sir Marwood frowned and glared at him.

“You were not our choice for engineer,” He glared angrily at him. “Peppercorn should have had your role. Instead we have a petulant ill tempered fool who cares nothing about the railway, bullies his employees and only cares for disgracing the name of a brilliant man. You have destroyed the P2’s and riddled them with faults. Great Northern is a shadow of his former self and does not speak to anyone. You will not lay hands on Mallard and if you do, we will have you replaced with Peppercorn.”

Thompson looked completely offended, marched forward and went to start yelling at them but 4498 of his own accord, hissed a huge amount of steam and put himself between Thompson and the Directors, Gold Dust hovering around him in a clear warning. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. Thompson looked intimidated and backed away from the engine.

It would be very easy to claim that he’d been in an ‘engineering accident’ with the big engine and the Board of the Directors would have an easier time to get rid of him. He wasn't well liked and both engines and employees wanted him gone. Without a word he glared at the large engine staring him down before turning around and storming off in a huff.

4498 glanced at the directors.

“I apologise for my actions sirs. I am aware that threatening humans is not taken lightly,” he said sincerely. “But that man has made far too many mistakes and we engines want him gone. He also threatened my brother and I will not have it.”

“We agree, old friend,” Sir Marwood smiled at the engine. “Unfortunately, humans have complicated ways and getting rid of him is not an easy job.”

“Quite,” 4498 agreed. “But I must warn you, several of the P2s are threatening to come down from Scotland and deal with him in a very uncomplicated way for making them weaker.”

“We will do our best, however we cannot promise anything Sir Nigel,” Mr Walsworth gave the A3 Pacific a gentle pat on his cylinder box.

“If anything happens to Mallard, the Silver’s will be after him, I can tell you that,” Sir Nigel warned and Sir Marwood’s face took on a look of complete sincerity.

“If anything happens to Mallard WE will be after him ourselves,” he assured the engine.

~~~

”Sir Nigel’s memories?” The Flying Scotsman sounded confused as he rumaged around in Mallard’s mind. ”How is that possible?!”

Mallard dug his heels and bit back at Scotsman who immediately shoved him back.

”Excuse you I wasn’t done yet!” Scotsman snapped at Mallard like an annoyed child.

“Well I’m deciding you’re done!” Mallard hissed and tried to regain control of the black smoke. He looked at the long preserved bodies of the old directors. “Curse these humans and their ways! They acted too late, too late! I would have never become this monster had they not let that man touch me! They sacrificed me! Used me as an excuse to get rid of Thompson instead of acting!”

He felt sympathy from the Flying Scotsman and pushed it away angrily.

“I don’t need your pity, Golden Boy,” he sneered at Scotsman. The Scotsman didn’t get angry, he felt only sadness come from the A3 Pacific.

He ignored it and began to draw on the Black Smoke he had used to preserve the old LNER directors, one by one the old corpses dropped until all of them were gone except for the two human he kept as his crew. He regrettably still needed them for a quick get away if need be.

Godred wriggled free of his captors and ran over to Great Northern who still sat crumpled on the ground his leg broken. He tried to get North away but North pushed him away telling him to run, to get help.

It didn’t matter, Mallard would soon be done with this.

Mallard drew the black smoke around his boiler, deeper and deeper, surrounding Scotsman’s soul. The Scotsman flinched as he felt the familiar ice cold feeling of his nightmares begin to creep slowly closer to him.

Mallard smirked as he watched Scotsman panic slightly as the Black Smoke started to overwhelm his Golden Soul.

“Where’s your bravado now, poster boy,” he hissed and Scotsman paused, trying to calm himself and gain control. Mallard felt the Gold Dust pushing against the black smoke, trying to push through.

“I need to see what happened to Merlin,” Scotsman gave Mallard a rough shove. “Something bad happened to him I know. You mind is filled with regret and sadness everytime you remember him!”

“Stop!” Mallard snapped at Scotsman, trying to suffocate the insolent pest that had plagued him almost all his life. “You gave your soul to me now just submit!”

“I need to see the whole picture!” Scotsman suddenly lashed out at Mallard, his Gold Dust flashing brilliantly and stunning Mallard slightly, enough to give Scotsman wriggle room to once again grab on to a memory and latch on to it for dear life.

~~~

“Merlin has the cold iron sleep Mallard, there is no known way to fix it I’m sorry,” Arthur Peppercorn told the desperate engine. “He will most likely be scrapped once he loses sentience.”

“No!” Mallard shouted furiously. “You have to do something!”

“Mr Peppercorn is right Mallard,” Merlin said quietly from beside him. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing they can do for me. At least my metal can be reused for future engines.”

“But you promised! You promised you’d stay by my side!” Mallard said desperately. “I can’t lose anyone else!”

“You will still have Sir Nigel, Bittern and a few others,” Merlin tried to reassured his younger brother but Mallard wasn’t having it, he was inconsolable.

“But they don’t care about me!” Mallard shouted angrily. “No cares about me accept you!”

“They do Mallard, you just need to be more open and accepting to them,” Merlin urged.

They’d had this conversation a million times but still Mallard never once listened. He always fixated on Merlin or Gadwell.

Merlin sighed and looked away from Mallard. He was too exhausted, too tired. Just being around Mallard drained his energy, his very soul it seemed like.

Peppercorn frowned suddenly as he noticed the tiny flecks of gold dust floating in the air.

Gold dust was rarely seen outside an engine. It was usually anchored on tight on to it’s host and held fast unless an engine was pushing past it’s limits. Without a word, he darkened the workshop, confusing the two engines presence.

“Sir?” Merlin asked as Peppercorn came back with a lamp. He stood between the two engines and stood silently and carefully gazed between them.

Merlin and Mallard glanced at each other confused. After a long moment Peppercorn walked to the front of Merlin and placed a hand over his buffer.

“Merlin I want you to answer me honestly, how do you feel when you’re around Mallard?”

“I-” Merlin glanced at Mallard who looked at him expectantly. “Ever since Thompson removed part of Mallard’s soul, I always felt… exhausted some how. Please don’t take this the wrong way Mallard it’s not that I’m tired of your behaviour it’s, I feel weaker in your presence.”

A look of concern appeared on Peppercorn’s face.

“Could you maybe explain it as if you’re being drained of your very soul?” He suggested and Merlin stared at him curiously.

“Yes, I believe I could,” Merlin agreed. “That’s a very descriptive way of putting it.”

Peppercorn gave him a slight nod before turning to walk away.

“I need to speak to the directors about something, I will be back,” Peppercorn said with a sad look at them both.

“What did you mean by that?” Mallard questioned Merlin with an annoyed look upon his face. “Do you really think I’m draining your soul or something stupid like that. That’s absurd!”

Mallard gave a nervous laugh but Merlin just sat their stoney faced and silent not saying a word.

Ever since Thompson and his crew had taken Mallard in the middle of the night and ‘repaired’ him to try an make him less reckless and more agreeable, he had noticed a drop in Mallard’s ability to sympathise and to emote properly. It was almost as if they’d stripped him of any ability to show sympathy to anyone. It was unnerving and it was frightening.

He’d openly mocked engines that sat in the sidings rusting away as they waited for the cutter’s torch. He’d proudly proclaimed himself the best locomotive as he was to be preserved and he went out of his way to search for certain engines to mock them or tell them they were being scrapped in a gleeful sadistic way.

Mallard certainly never had been particularly nice or warm to anyone but it was like a cruel streak had opened up and started negatively effecting everyone around him. Merlin was appalled and horrified and this sudden change in Mallard, however thankfully, the famous engine was still his kind and loving little brother to him.

“What did, what did Thompson do to you Mallard?” Merlin asked, his tone laced with fright.

“I- I don’t really know, they knocked me out but when I woke up I just felt cold,” Mallard explained. “Even when my firebox is lit and my boiler is running I just feel… cold.”

Merlin stared at Mallard before looking away. If Mallard really was draining his soul and killing him, he shudder to think how it would effect the engine. He looked at his buffers. Mallard had begun speaking again but he felt so out of it that he didn’t answer.

He felt like he was losing himself.

He only looked up when he heard Peppercorn and Mr Sutcliffe return.

“Are you certain that Mallard is draining Merlin’s Gold Dust?” Mr Sutcliffe was asking the Chief Mechanical Engineer.

“I saw it myself,” Peppercorn said urgently. “And Merlin is the only engine that consistently is in Mallard’s company for him to really take a hold of.”

“Curious,” Mr Sutcliffe remarked. He looked at the two engines. “Unfortunately, our wells of Gold Dust are running out and we cannot spare much due to the new diesels being output by the works. Only a few select steam engines will be saved.”

“That’s alright sir,” Merlin said humbly. “I understand.”

“We are preserving important engines such as Rooster, Green Arrow and a K4. One of Peppercorn’s A1’s will also be preserved,” Mr Sutcliffe explained. “I apologise Merlin but I cannot guarantee that you will join them.”

“But, but you have to! Merlin is my friend! I demand that you save him!” Mallard snapped angrily.

“Mallard-” Merlin started but Mallard ignored him.

“You have to save him!” He shouted furiously. “I will not allow him to die!”

“You’re the one that’s killing him you ridiculous engine!” Mr Sutcliffe suddenly shouted at him. “Thompson took your Gold Dust and now you’re draining your brothers!”

“Sir!” Peppercorn admonished the man. “These engines don’t know about the nature of Gold dust! You cannot tell them!”

“Gold Dust? You mean our souls? Thompson took my soul and you just let him!?” Mallard shrieked angrily. “Is that why I’m cold? Is that why I can’t feel anything?! How could you let them do this to me?! The most important engine in the world!”

“Who told you about that?” Peppercorn rounded on Mallard.

“4498 did, he made me promise not to tell anyone, he was concerned about me after Thompson took my Gold Dust,” Mallard huffed. “But it’s not my fault! I didn’t know I was taking Merlin’s gold dust please you have to save Merlin!”

Peppercorn and Sutcliffe looked at one another, disturbed by the revelation.

“Take Mallard away and keep him away from Merlin,” Mr Sutcliffe ordered. “Keep him away from any and all engines. I will talk to the board about this.”

Without another word, Mr Sutcliffe turned heel and left, leaving a very distressed Mallard and a mournful looking Peppercorn.

“Take- take Mallard away and put him in a shed away from the other engines,” Peppercorn stammered as he ordered the engineers around him.

“Wait no please!” Mallard called desperately. “Merlin! I’m sorry! I didn’t know I was draining your Gold Dust! This isn’t fair! Merlin!”

“It’s okay Mallard, I forgive you,” Merlin tried to assured the now panicked and frightened engine. “This isn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself for this okay?”

“How is this not my fault?!” Mallard snapped angrily. “I literally drained your soul!”

“Mallard, this is Thompson’s fault, not yours,” Merlin tried to assure him. But Mallard still refused to listen, his incessant and incoherent rambling now echoing through Peppercorn’s workshop.

After a while he was taken out despite his attempts to slam on his brakes or shake his crew off his footplate there was nothing he could do.

Merlin sighed to himself and looked at Mr Peppercorn who was watching him quietly, distress and pain written all over his face.

“Mr Peppercorn sir,” he suddenly asked the man and the man turned to him.

“Yes Merlin?”

“I have a request,” he explained. “I know, I know that Flying Scotsman has been saved from Scrap.”

“That’s correct, he is now owned by a Private Owner,” Peppercorn smiled. “It alludes me why Flying Scotsman was not chosen to be preserved but at least now he will.”

“If I may, could I speak with him please?”

~~~

Flying Scotsman sat quietly in his private shed that Pegler had given him. The man had pulled him out of the scrapyard and had given him a small private shed that was too small for him.

It was cramped and filled with other things that the entrepreneur owned.

It was nothing like the big roundhouse that was always busy, always filled with engines and people, bright lights and smelt of coal and grease.

Now their sheds were filled with diesels and his brothers and sisters… they'd gone. He'd never even got to say goodbye to most of them, only a few shunters that had raced to find him, to see if he could do something, anything to save their brothers and sisters that had been taken from their sheds never to be seen again.

He remembered Polly, dearest Polly, always arguing with her engineers or her crew. Bossing around the other engines and getting snippy and short with them.

He wanted Polly. He wanted Bittern. Or Silver Fox. Or even Great Northern.

Someone… anyone.

Maybe Gordon. Was Gordon even still alive? Was he still on Sodor?

What had happened to them? There had been so many of them but now he didn't even know where anyone was. He only knew the Mallard had been preserved.

He himself hadn't even been preserved. He'd been slated for the cutters torch, the diesels teasing him, mocking him as he sat on that siding, rusting away.

Yet this kind man, this Alan Pegler had saved him.

He had begged Pegler to save anyone of his siblings, just someone, anyone, even North but Pegler couldn't. He could only save one and that one happened to be him.

Flying Scotsman looked up as the doors to his tiny shed creaked opened.

The doors opened to reveal an A4 Pacific he'd never seen before and he perked up.

"Are they saving you too?" He asked hopefully, desperately.

The face on the other engine looked away sadly and he appeared hurt and depressed. There was a huge crack over the engine’s face.

"I'm afraid not," he croaked weakly. "Peppercorn pulled some strings, so I could speak with you."

The engine seemed sickly and in terrible condition despite still 'appearing' well kept and intact. Like something was damaging it from the inside.

"What's wrong with you?" Scotsman asked. "Physically you look fine except for the crack but… I don't know."

The engine looked away sadly.

"It's cold iron sleep," he muttered weakly. "I won't survive it."

"I'm sorry," Scotsman said sadly. "That's a terrible way to go."

"I've accepted it," the engine said. "But I'm afraid Mallard has not and probably never will."

Scotsman's eyes widened in realisation.

"You're Merlin," he said and the engine, Merlin, chuckled.

"That I am," he gave a soft laugh. "A pleasure to meet the famous Flying Scotsman at long last."

Flying Scotsman gave a small smile but did nothing else. He really didn't feel strong enough to even to pretend to be happy.

"I wish, it had been in better circumstances," Scotsman said quietly. "Are all my siblings gone?"

"I don't know," Merlin said sadly. "I'd tell you if I could but I don't even know about my own siblings. I just know that all the Silver's are gone."

"Even little Fox?"

"Even little Fox."

Scotsman fell quiet, accepting the other engines words as a solemn feeling filled the air.

"What did you want to talk about dear cousin?" Scotsman asked quietly.

"Mallard is lucky to be preserved, as are you," Merlin began. "I wanted, I wanted to make sure that Mallard would be alright after I'm… gone. He, he's- his soul, it's… I can't explain but- Thompson did something to him. He, Mallard's not the same as he was. He- the Gold- it-"

Merlin sighed and looked at from Scotsman clearly frustrated.

"You're not making sense," Scotsman said. "What's wrong with Mallard's soul? What happened? What does Gold have to do with anything?"

Merlin looked away.

"It's too complicated to explain but that man Thompson and his delusions," the A4 Pacific looked distressed now. "He somehow took away part of Mallard's sentience. Like his emotions, his very soul. And now he's- he's draining the souls of others…"

Scotsman just stared at him confused.

"I don't understand," Scotsman said blankly. "I'm sorry but I just don't know what you're talking about."

Merlin stared at Scotsman. He gave a deep exhale and closed his eyes.

"4498 told me you wouldn't but I still wanted to try, for Mallard," Merlin explained. "If you ever find out about the truth of engines, well hopefully then you'll understand."

"The truth?" Scotsman asked really confused now.

"Yes," Merlin sighed. "In layman's terms, Thompson ripped Mallard's soul from his engine, leaving him unable to feel or experience anything other than sorrow, anger and pain."

Scotsman stared at the A4 Pacific bewildered. Clearly the Cold Iron Sleep had addled this poor engines mind.

"I see you don't believe me," Merlin gave a half hearted smiled. "That's okay. I just- I just want you to try and help Mallard. I promised him, I promised that I would always be there to help him but, clearly that's not going to happen now."

"I'm sorry Merlin," Scotsman said quietly. "I don't know if I'm able to do anything."

"That's okay," Merlin smiled. "Just being in the presence of your Golden Soul makes me feel better."

"I'm flattered," Scotsman said confused but otherwise grateful for Merlin's words.

"I just need someone to try to help Mallard, I know everyone else has given up on him, even 4498, with how boastful he's been. But, please, he needs at least one person to show him kindness. Maybe, maybe it will restore his soul, bring him back."

"I promise that I'll try Merlin," Scotsman said quietly. "Kindness is the only reason I'm being preserved after all. But I can't help someone who refuses my help or who won't help themselves."

A grateful expression flashed across Merlin's face.

"All I'm asking is for someone to show my little brother compassion, that's all," Merlin said with relief. "I know it's hard but-"

"You have my word Merlin," Scotsman declared. "I will help Mallard or at the very least, I will try."

"Thank-you Flying Scotsman."

~~~

“Great Northern? Great Northern!” Mallard bellowed angrily. “You chose to save Great Northern over Merlin!”

“Great Northern is one of a kind,” Sir Marwood explained. “He was Sir Gresley’s personal engine for a very long time and it was written into his Will that Great Northern would have his soul saved.”

“And besides,” Mr Berkeley said dimissively. “We have a lot of A4 Pacific’s sold and saved. Merlin was just another one and given the choice we decided to save the more unique and historically significant engine.”

“Significant engine! Significant!” Mallard fumed. “Merlin was significant! He was the friend of the fastest engine in the world!”

“You are not the fastest engine in the world Mallard, not any more,” Mr Walsworth pointed at him. “You are only the fastest Steam Engine. Impressive certainly but nothing compared to the engines of the future!”

Mallard stared at the board shocked and in utter despair.

Merlin was gone… he’d never even gotten to say good-bye to him. Just like Gadwell. There was no closure, just emptiness.

“You- you can’t do this!” Mallard shouted helplessly. “We’re thinking beings with emotions! You can’t just create us and then throw us away like garbage!”

“We can and we will,” Sir Marwood said coldly. “This conversation is over Mallard. You’ve been a thorn in our side for far too long. You’re the problem of British Railways now.”

Sir Marwood turned his nose up at Mallard and waved to some engineers to take him away. Mallard said nothing, only watching the old LNER directors walking away as the crew prepared to return him to his shed.

He travelled in silence until a voice caught his attention.

“Mallard! Oh thank goodness a friendly face!”

Mallard looked up and saw the A1 Peppercorn, Saint Mungo, sitting in a siding quietly. He scowled at the Peppercorn deeply annoyed. An inferior engine that shouldn’t be preserved, in his opinion.

“Well now that’s a less friendly face,” Saint Mungo remarked seeing Mallard’s expression change. “Smile old man, we’re the lucky few being preserved! A wonderful engine such as yourself should be grateful!”

Mallard held back the urge to shout angrily at the engine. Instead, he gave him a false smile as a plan formed in his smokebox.

“Of course,” Mallard grinned. “How completely rude of me. I must be more grateful like yourself dear Mungo.”

Saint Mungo laughed. “There you go! That’s a lot better!”

Oh how Mallard hated the A1 Peppercorns and their overly happy, ‘can do’ attitudes. They all should be scrapped in his opinion.

And they soon would be.

“Isn’t it just?” Mallard smiled painfully as he looked Mungo over. The A1 Peppercorn looked like he had rust and his paintwork was worn in places from years of hard work.

“I must say though, you don’t look in the best condition old friend, maybe you should go and get some work done,” Mallard urged the A1. “A preserved engine shouldn’t look as scrappy as you do, if you pardon my crudeness.”

“Ah yes well, they’re planning too but they need to open up a time for me you see,” Mungo explained. “The works are all doing, ah work shall we say.”

Cutting up old engines, he clearly meant.

“I’m sure a famous engine like myself could convince a workshop to make some time for you my dear Peppercorn,” Mallard replied smoothly. They wouldn’t but that wasn’t Mallard’s intention.

“Ah that would be just grand!” Saint Mungo said excitedly. “No more rust and a new coat of paint! You think they’d be willing to change up my colours if I asked?”

“I’m sure they would,” Mallard smiled at him.

“I think a lovely blue like the Caledonian engines don’t you agree?” Saint Mungo said starting to ramble on excitedly.

“Yes quite,” Mallard cut him off mid ramble. “I must get going, you understand.”

“Of course, of course, don’t let me keep you Mallard my friend!” Saint Mungo said apologetically. He gave Mallard a wide grin, absolutely happy with the promise of a new coat and some desperately need maintenance.

Mallard of course, had no intention of giving Mungo anything of the sort.

Convincing a crew to work with him had been a little more difficult that the naive and foolish Saint Mungo. However he did manage to convince them that an engine slated for scrapping was pretending to be one that was preserved and he promised to take them to it and return it to the scrapyard.

The light of the full moon shone down on Saint Mungo as he slept in the siding. Mallard quickly managed to buffer up to the engine and couple behind him so he couldn’t see who it was that was pushing him.

“Who’s that! What are you doing?” Saint Mungo yelped as he awoke as Mallard began pushing him.

Mallard remained silent as the Peppercorn began to panic.

“Who is this! Stop this at once!” Mungo shouted angrily. “Put me back in that siding!”

Mallard said nothing but he could sense one of his crew start to get nervous, a young boy, an apprentice began to panic.

“This doesn’t feel right!” The boy mumbled. “I think this is Saint Mungo sir!”

Mallard’s engineer paused and went to close the A4 Pacific’s regulator but Mallard barked a stern ‘No’ into the engineer’s mind and the engineer froze to Mallard’s surprise. The boy saw his trainer’s expression turned glassy and almost zombie like under Mallard’s influence. The boy went to jump off the footplate, clearly spooked but Mallard did the same thing and ordered the boy to stop and start shoveling coal instead.

The boy resisted, but Mallard managed to retain control. He was a simple boy, not much going on in that little head of his. Nothing but fear of the huge engine now using him as a puppet. He squeaked and cried but Mallard maintained control of both the engineer and apprentice fireman.

It was sloppy work but he managed to move himself and Mungo to the scrapyard were two diesels sat awaiting Mallard.

“This the one that escaped us?” One of the diesels asked and Mallard smiled at him.

“Indeed,” Mallard grinned at him.

“Ah excellent, excellent!” The other diesel grinned. “He’ll be gone by morning.”

“What?! No!” Saint Mungo began to panic as he stared through the gates of the scrapyard and into the furness within the sheds. “Mallard you monster! You absolute Cretin! I was saved! I’m supposed to be preserved! I am NOT for scrap you hear me! NOT FOR SCRAP!”

Mallard just laughed at the now shrieking and terrified Saint Mungo.

“Pleasure doing business with yer old Mallard,” one of the Diesel’s smirked at him as the other coupled up to Saint Mungo and began to drag him into the Scrapyard, terrified and screaming in horror at the sight of the molten iron barrels and the array of cutters torches that awaited him.

~~~

Scotsman withdrew from Mallard’s mind, completely and utterly disturbed by what Mallard had done to Mungo.

“You… you killed Mungo!” Scotsman choked out weakly, sickened and disturbed. “You gave him hope and then you destroyed him!”

“I took the greatest pleasure in doing so, my dear Scotsman,” Mallard smirked wickedly. “And oh dear me, it looks like you dropped your guard you silly old fool.”

Mallard took the black smoke around him and sent it into Scotsman’s mind, latching on to the terror of seeing what happened to Mungo and crushing the A3 Pacific’s will and resolve in a swift strike.

Scotsman let out a terrified wail of agony and struggled desperately against the Black Smoke as it filled his mind with terror and pain. He could feel himself getting weaker, his soul getting dimmer and dimmer as Mallard drained it.

“After I’ve drained your soul I’m going to find your engine and I’m going to turn it into scrap!” Mallard declared boastfully. “You’ll be nothing but a memory soon!”

Scotsman desperately struggled but his energy was leaving him. Clearly Mallard wasn’t taking any risks and consuming his soul as quickly as he could before Scotsman could get another foot hold in his mind.

Mallard still clearly though of Scotsman as a legitimate threat, despite now having him in a choke hold and near death.

With a desperate last effort, Scotsman mustered his remaining strength and peered into Mallard’s mind.

“Merlin would be ashamed of what you’ve become Mallard,” The Flying Scotsman declared and almost instantly Mallard’s mind exploded in anger and a deafening shriek of pure fury erupted from the A4 Pacific.

There was a sickeningly loud crack that echoed around the walls of the Sodor Museum’s exhibition walls and Flying Scotsman’s limp human sending went hurtling through the air and landing with a wet thud and several loud cracks on the concrete floor.

“Flying Scotsman!” Great Northern screamed in horror as he saw the limp form of his brother ragdoll and lie still.

With an enormous effort and ignoring the searing pain from his broken leg, North managed to drag himself over to the silent and seemingly lifeless form of Flying Scotsman.

“Brother!” North desperately grasped Scotsman body, shaking it desperately, ignoring Mallard laughing behind him.

His head was at an unnatural angle to his body, his neck was twisted in a way it should not as if it had snapped and his eyes were open and lifeless. His skin was ice cold and Scotsman’s entire body was just… limp. Not like he was sleeping, just… lifeless.

Even though he already knew the truth, Great Northern desperately felt for a pulse.

He couldn’t find one.

Flying Scotsman was dead.

~~~

Chapter Text

23 - Golden Whistle

~~~

Content Warning: Graphic descriptions of a dead body

~~~

“I couldn’t break free of those zombies sir! I would’ve come earlier but- but-!”

“It’s alright Godred,” Sir Robert said kindly to the panicking man. “We’ll find a way to free Great Northern if we can-”

“No sir it’s Flying Scotsman! He saved Great Northern and gave himself to Mallard!”

“He what!?” Henry Stainer suddenly shouted and Sir Robert looked equally as alarmed.