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Another busy day had begun on the island of Sodor. The bright, sunny morning was cheerful and inspiring, especially after weeks and weeks of rain, it felt like a gift.
Donald and Douglas were heading to the docks according to Sir Topham Hatt's orders. Whooshing along the way, they were glad that the endless rain had reached its finish and that good days had come again. On a morning like this, no one could be seriously angry about anything, but Donald and Douglas, like all siblings, always managed to find a reason to argue.
"Hey Donnie, bet I can go much faster than you!"
"No, you can't!"
"Yes, I can!"
"No, you can't!"
"Yes, I can!"
"No, you can't!"
"Catch me then, slow coach!"
Douglas shot Donald a competitive glance and rushed forward. Of course, his brother couldn't reject the invitation, so he sped up just the same.
"So who is catching whom now?"
So, word after word, argument after argument, the twins reached the docks. Sir Topham Hatt and two trains of trucks laden with crates were already waiting for them there. Cranky was busy loading the last truck when Donald and Douglas rolled into the dockside. The twins stopped, looking at the trains with interest, when Sir Topham Hatt approached them.
"Finally, you are here. Donald, Douglas, I have a special job for you today," he began. "Here is one train with equipment for a logging company, and the other one with construction materials. You need to deliver both to Nordend."
"Hm. Where is it? I don't know such a place on Sodor."
"That's because it was abandoned long ago. Now listen carefully," he continued. "This is not too far from the castle. It used to be a small village, long abandoned and deserted, but now a logging company has bought the land and plans to begin working there. They have already delivered some of their supplies, now you need to deliver the rest. And watch out! The road might not be easy. There are old, abandoned but still passable rails there, so keep to the speed limit and watch your step. Or rather, your wheels. Got it?"
"Sure."
"No problem at all."
"Good. Now couple to your trains and off you go."
After arguing for a few more minutes about who would take which train, the twins finally set off. Ahead lay an unknown road, and this fact only further fueled their curiosity and rivalry.
***
Sir Topham Hatt hadn't lied. The road was indeed strange. Donald and Douglas rolled along two rusty tracks through a dense forest that stretched on either side of the line. Just a few meters to the left of the rails there was a drop into a deep, bush-covered canyon.
It was a long journey. They had been travelling for an hour along this overgrown line, slowing down to a third of their usual speed just in case. Douglas grew irritated.
"How long can these rails go on, Donnie?" he said sadly. "I'm tired of moving this slow. Maybe we should speed up, eh? The line doesn't look that bad, really. It's just a bit rusty, but normal enough."
Donald looked doubtfully at his brother. But honestly, he also wanted to finish this task faster and return to more interesting work.
"Hmm. Maybe. Let's go then! Hm, wasn't it you who called me 'slow coach' before?"
The twins exchanged sly glances. It was clear without words.
"Catch me!" Douglas rushed off first.
"On it!"
Taking off, the two engines raced through the forest along the canyon. Branches hanging over the line slapped their faces, and the wind whistled around them, but this only fueled their excitement. So caught up in the race were they that they failed to notice a large gap in the metal rails ahead of Douglas, that was threatening to cause an accident.
A terrible accident.
At the last second, Douglas finally saw the impending horror. He screamed and slammed on the brakes, but there was no chance of stopping before the gap. His wheel struck the broken rail, and Douglas was thrown off the track at high speed.
"DOUGLAS!"
Donald slammed on his own brakes and managed to stop just in time to see Douglas fall into the canyon. For real it wasn't that deep, but in Donald's terror it seemed as if his brother had plummeted ten meters, crashing against the rocks. His tender broke off in mid-fall, the coupling between the cars snapped, and another series of impacts against the rocks spun him around completely.
"DOUGLAS! DOUGLAS!!"
Having landed at the bottom of the canyon, Douglas finally came to a stop, lying on his side. He groaned. He was in so much pain. So much pain that he hadn't even known it was possible to hurt like this, it felt as if every tube and every gear inside him had snapped.
Finally, his brother's panicked cry broke through the haze of pain.
"DOUGLAS?!"
"Donald..."
Donald was in utter horror and despair. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't supposed to happen, not to his brother. To anyone, but not him.
"Douglas!" he shouted again. "Can you hear me? Answer me!"
"Donnie..."
"I'm going for help, just hold on! I'll be back as fast as possible!"
Donald couldn't see it, but Douglas smiled sadly. Not this time.
"Donald, please... listen... I'm hurt. Really... bad..."
Donald felt as if his firebox had frozen over with hoarfrost and icicles the instant he heard that tone in his brother's voice. But he was not going to give up. Never while he could still move.
"I know, Douggie! But you're going to be alright! I'll do anything!"
"Please, Donnie, don't leave me. These are my last hours, I feel it. Stay with me... stay until it... until it's over..."
"No, it's not. Hold on. Hold on for me. I'll fetch help in no time, just hold on and don't you dare close your eyes! Douglas, do you hear me?! Hold on!"
Hold.
Douglas tried. He tried honestly, with all his might. But when Donald's wheels began to clang in reverse, he almost immediately lost consciousness.
***
It was like the sea. The deep, dark sea, whose black waters closed above Douglas's funnel.
One day at Brendam Docks, he had witnessed a man who couldn't swim fall into the water. A worker, he was succesfully rescued later. But Douglas vividly remembered how the unfortunate man had struggled to stay afloat, desperately flailing his arms. And now Douglas could do nothing to save himself. He could only feel himself sinking deeper and deeper, and deeper.
Sometimes, words, fragments of phrases, were breaks through the thickness of the water.
"...it's here, it's here!"
"..."
"...okay, men, slowly, slowly. Heave..."
"...dear God."
"...down, yes, like this. Now I'll secure him."
"..."
"...Douggie..."
But then they also faded away.
***
"I said - no! You can do anything you want, but you will not change my mind! I will stay with my brother!"
Victor sighed heavily. An hour ago, Douglas had been brought into the Steamworks, and Donald had categorically declared that he would remain there until his brother woke up or until the worst be confirmed. Victor, along with Sir Topham Hatt, Kevin, Thomas, and Henry, had tried to persuade Donald to leave and continue working, assuring him that they had everything under control, but it seemed pointless.
"Donald."
"No!"
"Donald," Sir Topham Hatt said for the tenth time, "I know how hard this is for you, but-"
"No! You know nothing! I will not move from this place! You, you-" Donald slipped out of control, "you stupid fat controller! You idiot! I hate you! I hate that this happened! I hate this job you gave us! It's my brother! My Douggie!"
Thomas and Henry gasped in shock. Victor went still, and even Kevin fell silent. It was a terrible insult. But Donald didn’t mean to stop.
"You fool! It was your fault that Douglas is hurt! If you had checked the route properly and known that the rails were in disrepair, this would never have happened! I hate - you!"
Donald's last words were accompanied by a loud clang: he jumped by his front wheels on the springs and then crashed back down onto the rails. It was the equivalent of an angry human stamping his foot, but seeing a many-ton machine lunge at you like that could be terrifying. However, instead of getting angry or ordering Donald to the scrapyard for such behavior, Sir Topham Hatt only sighed. Then he gently patted Donald's buffer beam.
"It's going to be alright, Donald. Don't worry."
Later that evening, Sir Topham Hatt called Thomas aside and asked him to do Donald's job. Of course, there were no objections.
"Do you understand, Thomas? He needs to be with his brother. So could you please take his job for the next week? I don't want to order you, I would rather ask, because it will require working at night, and you have your own daily duties."
"No problem," Thomas assured him. "I'm always ready to help."
"Wonderful. Thank you. Alright then," he turned to his secretary, "did you want to say something?"
"Sir, I must tell you - this is going to be very expensive."
"I know, Rowan, I know," he replied. "Well, we can afford it. If I remember correctly, we haven't had any financial losses or serious incidents for the last six months. Contact the Mainland, please. We need to order parts."
"Yes, sir."
***
Victor yawned. His eyes nearly betrayed him. He continued fighting his own eyelids to keep them open - during the last week he had slept maybe three hours each night.
The work that had been done was insane. Victor had spent countless hours searching all over Sodor for parts, one day he even had to go to the Mainland because, instead of the necessary parts, they had sent him some junk, and he had to sort it out himself. His mechanics had overhauled Douglas from top to bottom. After going through every rivet, every screw, and inspecting every centimeter for damage, Victor had finally succeeded. Repairing Smudger had been much more difficult, of course, but this incident was also one of the most complicated in his career. But two fundamental problems remained.
First, Douglas wouldn't wake up. Even after being fully repaired, he still didn't wake up when his firebox was lit and all the systems were running. Victor racked his brain - he couldn't have missed anything, he was sure of it. Everything was working as it should, but Douglas wasn't regaining consciousness. Poor engine stood on the side track, whole but partially patched and unpainted, refusing to return to his friends.
The second problem was Donald. He had resolutely refused to leave the Steamworks and had remained constantly by his brother's side during the entire week. All the time he argued with everyone and snapped at Victor if he thought he was hurting Douglas, fixing something wrong, or even talking too loudly. Victor couldn't blame him for this, so he was forced to call upon all his patience. Sometimes, at nights, when Victor was supposed to close the Steamworks, he sees Donald silently crying beside his brother.
Another night arrived. Victor, as usual, closed the Steamworks and went to the shed, while Donald stayed behind. Soon sleep overtook him as well. The bright moonlight, falling through the ceiling windows of the Steamworks, glided over the two brothers as if trying to caress and calm. Time flowed slowly. But then something changed.
The moon cast its last beam before disappearing from the window's view, continuing its journey on the sky. The light slid across Douglas's paneling and vanished. His eyelids stirred. And then Douglas opened his eyes.
At first, he did not understand where he was or what was happening. The last memories - fragments of phrases and conversations - rose in his mind, but the thoughts slipped away before he could grasp them by their tails. Douglas blinked several times in the darkness. Then panic began to rise inside him.
He didn't want to be in this dark. He couldn't see anything. He needed to get out.
Douglas tried to move, but the wheels turned only slightly before stopping, his firebox was cold. He began to breathe quickly.
No, no, no, no, no!
"Douglas?"
The voice came from somewhere ahead, very close. It pierced through the rising dread - the voice of the most important person in the whole world.
"Donald?"
Douglas's eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. But then the light came. Someone in front of him turned on a lamp, and it blinded him for a few seconds before he could finally see who was standing there.
"Douggie??"
His brother. His one and only close person, a half of his world.
"Douggie, you're alive!" Donald exclaimed. "How do you feel? Does it hurt anywhere? Do you need something? I'll go and bring it, just tell me!"
"Donnie..."
The panic released Douglas, taking away its cold fingers. He exhaled, just as the memories returned in an instant, like a bursting avalanche of snow from the top of a mountain. The crash. The pain. And then the deep sea of darkness he had finally risen from.
"Oh, Donnie..." he began, his vision still slightly swirling. "Are you... are we... where are we?"
"At the Steamworks. You don't need to worry, Douglas," Donald said quickly. "Victor fixed you. You was in, ehh, how do humans call it... a coma, yes. Everything is alright now, but you dont need to move now! You need rest."
"Oh..."
Douglas looked into his brother's eyes and smiled a little. It was all he was capable of for now. Donald's eyes brightened. He rolled forward until his buffers touched Douglas's and remained there. He returned the smile. Tonight, Donald was the happiest engine in the whole world.
"You just need to stand here and rest. Victor will finish the last touches tomorrow. For now, you should rest."
"Donnie."
"Yes?"
Douglas looked at him and hesitated. But Donald already knew what his brother was going to say.
"You was here? All the time?"
"All the time."
Further words were unnecessary. The night, in a blink of an eye, had suddenly gone from cool to warm, heated by fulfilled hope. Victor and Kevin arrived at the sound, wondering who had made the noise, but then fell silent, exchanging smiles. The twins ignored them.
They were happy they still had each other.