Archive of Our Own

Ruth was bored. Which was exactly what she loved to be. Boredom drove her to make her greatest inventions. When she was specifically told to make something or had a clear goal in mind, nothing she made quite scratched the itch. But the stuff she invented when she was just messing around? Her proudest work. Even that bridge was mostly her just making it up as she went along.

So, when she was sitting on her couch and the boredom hit her like a full-speed Gordon, she went straight to her workshop. Every time she went into this room, she was so thankful that Thomas helped her move into a nice, quiet place where she could work. She couldn't be certain, but she was sure that moving to Sodor helped shake off some creator's block that had been haunting her.

When she sat down at her desk, however, she found herself just tapping her pencil against the paper.

'What to make…' She murmured to herself. 'What to make…'

The only problem with 'boredom inventing' was that it could take a while until something struck her. She doodled in the corner of her sheet to see what would pop up if she let her hands take over. In no time at all, a crude drawing of a train vaguely resembling Thomas (or maybe Rosie?) was staring back at her. That was another change she noticed since moving to Sodor - her mindless sketches were almost entirely just trains now.

But staring at that drawing of Thomas/Rosie/Percy gave her an idea. An idea that hit her even harder than the boredom had. Her face lit up with a smile right away.

'Of course!' She said. 'It'd give me a good excuse to use those old locomotive parts at last!'

Over the years, she had gathered all sorts of parts from retired locomotives, or old parts that had to be replaced. She stored them all just in case she ever wanted to use them. And now, she finally did.

'Flying cars are fun and all,' She said. 'But what about a car… made entirely of locomotive parts!'

She spoke to a little rubber duck she had lying around on her desk. It was her little secret; no one had to know that she liked to talk to a rubber duck as she worked. Very helpful for working out problems and discussing ideas! Just like that, the idea flourished. Her hand was all over the sheet, sketching out different kinds of shapes and sizes for this new invention to be.

'Can't have it be too big,' She told her rubber duck. 'Or it wouldn't be very practical to use on the road. Most of my parts are from steam engines, buuut a coal-powered car might not be the easiest thing to use. So I might just make it a diesel. What parts do I have? Oh, I should probably check that first…'

Ruth sketched and sketched and sketched for hours, throwing in all sorts of new ideas. After discussing them with the duck first, of course. So many designs, so little time. She couldn't afford to use any old design. Nope, she had to keep going until she created the very best! Eventually, she found herself drawing just the right shape. She gasped; yes, that was it! Her drawing sped up even more as the shape came together. This was going to be it, the best design yet.

She was just about putting the finishing touches on the design when she suddenly felt very lightheaded. And tired. And thirsty. And was that her stomach grumbling-? Oh. Even though the only person around was the rubber duck, Ruth could still feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.

'Uh, oops,' She said, laughing sheepishly. 'Looks like I forget to eat again! Or drink. Or-' Her eyes widened. 'Or go to the bathroom. Hold on!'

Once she actually took care of her needs, she returned and finished the sketch. And next to the sketch, she drew a little star. She stared at the finished drawing for a few minutes, admiring her own work.

'That's perfect!' She said. 'Oh, I've never seen such a well-crafted design! It's sleek. It's practical. And it's so cute! Ooh, I can't wait to get to building it. Everything else is going on the back-burner. This is going to be my work now. And I won't stop until I… until I…'

On top of neglecting her other needs, Ruth did not realise that it was fairly late at night now and that she was positively exhausted. Not until that exhaustion hit her all at once. She hadn't even finished her sentence yet before she drifted off to sleep. Right there. On her desk. In her workshop. Underneath the swinging ceiling light.

Oh well. It hadn't been the first time.

Ruth spent all of her spare time working on this newest project. It had been the first time in a while she had this intense drive to create, and she wanted to take full advantage of it while she still had it. Every moment she wasn't doing something else, she dedicated to building this car. And she may or may not have forgotten to take care of her needs once. Or twice. Or… a few dozen times. But it was all going to be worth it!

All that welding and wrenching and working would all pay off. She just knew it.

And sure enough, it did.

When she bolted the final bolt into place, she stepped back and admired her work. The newly-finished invention stood in the middle of her workshop. It was an odd-looking car to be sure. Anyone with a keen eye would know right away it was built with train parts and not car parts. Right now, it was a mish-mash of all sorts of colours, and it wasn't exactly clean. But Ruth loved it all the same.

'And it's done!' She declared to the rubber duck. 'Finally. Look at that. It's a little odd, but that's the way I like it. What do you think?'

The rubber duck, expectantly, said nothing. Due to being a rubber duck and all that.

'I knew you'd like it!' Ruth said. 'Now, I know it doesn't look very clean right now, but that's fine. I'll give it a good coat of paint later. Right now, I gotta test to make sure that it works. And hopefully, it doesn't explode this time.'

She filled the tank up with the best diesel fuel she could get her hands on - an easy task on a place like Sodor - and hopped into the driver's seat. It wasn't a very big car. Really, it only fit her. But it had plenty of storage in the back, and would have fantastic mileage on its fuel. Assuming everything went to plan, of course, which it only did about fifteen percent of the time. Hoo boy, the amount of prototypes she had to go through to get the flying car working…

She turned the key, bracing herself for a potential explosion.

The car flared to life right away. Its engine purred, sounding almost exactly like a diesel locomotive.

'WOO-HOO!' Ruth cheered. 'It works! And it didn't explode this time. Ooh, I can't wait to test how it drives!'

'YIPPEE!'

Ruth jumped so hard that she would've fallen out of her seat if it wasn't for the seatbelt. That happy little 'yippee' did not come from her. And, obviously, it didn't come from the rubber duck. There were no other humans in the whole building, and it didn't come from some engine outside.

A wild thought struck her. She had heard stories about how locomotives didn't have faces upon their smoke box until they were brought to life. When steamies had their fires lit, or diesels had their buttons pressed, or electrics had their batteries powered, that was when the face emerged. And with that face, the engine's identity. Non-locomotive vehicles sometimes came to life, though most didn't.

And since this car was built with locomotive parts…

Ruth, slowly, undid her seatbelt and walked around to the front of her car.

'OH MY!' She cried.

She was so shocked by the sight that she tripped over her own feet and ended up falling over backwards. Yes indeed, on the front of that brand-new car, where the 'smoke box' ought to be, was a face. A genuine grey, resin face. It stared back at her with a massive smile.

'Hello!' It said, in a very childish and feminine voice. 'Who are you?'

Ruth blinked at the being looking back at her. The car was speaking to her. Actually trying to start a conversation. She had no idea how it knew how to speak right away, but it did.

'Uh, my name is Ruth,' She replied.

'Rooo-ffff,' The car repeated. 'That's a nice name! My name is… uh… um…' The car suddenly frowned. 'I don't think I have a name…'

Ruth had no idea how to take this. When she put all those parts together and created a working car, she didn't expect the car to come to life on her! Did she just create life? She had invented many amazing things before, but never life itself. Humans were obviously capable of creating life, otherwise they wouldn't be able to reproduce, but never from putting a bunch of random parts together like this!

She did know one thing, however. The new car, who now had a face, was sad that it - she - didn't have a name. Ruth got to thinking right away. How did locomotives get their names? It depended, really. Most of them had 'human' names, like Thomas or Emily. A few had odder names, like Flying Scotsman. Some had nicknames, like Duck or Whiff. Sometimes, the engines named themselves. Other times, the person who buys them bestows such an honour. Percy, for instance, was named by Sir Topham Hatt himself. But usually, it was the creator who assigned them a name.

The issue was that Ruth never had to assign her inventions an actual human name before.

'Well then,' She said. 'I suppose I'll have to give you a name.'

The car lit up like a firework. 'You will?! Ooh, make it a good one. Make it a really, really good one!'

Ruth would've asked the car herself what name she wanted, but it wasn't likely that she knew many names after coming to life less than a minute ago. So, Ruth thought about her family. Her parents. Her sister. Her grandmother…

She smiled. Now that was a good idea.

'How about Cleo?' She asked. 'Do you like the sound of that?'

The car beamed like the sun. 'Yes! YESYESYES! I love it! Cleo. Cleo. Cleo. It's perfect!'

Ruth laughed. The car - Cleo - had been alive for two minutes tops, and was already proving to be the most excitable being she had ever met.

'OOH, who are you?' Cleo asked, inching forward. 'I know your name, but who are you?'

Yep, she moved forward. Just a little. All on her own. Well, Ruth didn't think she'd invent a self-driving car today. She finally realised that she was still on the floor and got to her feet.

'I'm the one who built you,' She said. 'Which I suppose means I'm something of a parent to you.'

'That sounds so much fun!' Cleo said, before asking, 'What's a parent?'

The question threw Ruth for a loop, but in hindsight, she should've expected it. Of course Cleo didn't know what a parent was. No engine who came to life knew everything right away. They had a grasp of whatever human language their makers spoke and some very basic concepts like names, but that was it. There was once a time where Gordon didn't even know what an 'express' was, let alone that he was to be in charge of pulling it. Ruth couldn't help laughing as she thought about Gordon asking a dozen questions about his own job. Despite talking and moving like adults, they really were children at first. Ruth was seeing it firsthand now.

Then, she frowned. She could remember hearing a story, a few years back, about an engine who wasn't treated very well when he first came to life. Long before Ruth was even born. Something about being an experimental design that was never meant to be built? The story went that they left him outside during a rainstorm, and they never told him what rain actually was. He spent the whole time in a panic, forever associating the rain with a feeling of terror and abandonment.

Ruth decided, then and there, that she would not risk such a thing happening to Cleo. She was going to educate her newest invention on everything, answering all the questions that she could.

'A parent is someone who looks after a child,' Ruth said. 'They love their children, whether they made the child themselves or took them in from elsewhere.'

'Cool!' Cleo said. 'Uh, another question. What's a child?'

This was going to be a long day.

'A child is, uh…' Ruth said. 'A young person who is new to the world. Small, innocent, and full of questions.'

Cleo gasped. 'Like me! I'm a child!'

'In a sense, I suppose.'

'And that makes you my parent!'

Hearing the car say it back at her made Ruth realise that declaring herself Cleo's 'parent' may have been more accurate than she realised. It dawned on her, right at that very moment, that indeed… she was a parent. She had a child. A child she created. A child she just named.

She was a mother.

'So, where are we?' Cleo asked.

'You're in my workshop,' Ruth said. 'My home.'

'Huh. What's a home?'

Oh yeah. This was going to be a very, very long day indeed.

After a couple days of polishing up Cleo and giving her a smart new coat of bright red paint - and her own name plate! - Ruth decided it was about time to take her new invention out for a test drive. Just a simple one, around the workshop. She opened the garage doors and, gently, eased little Cleo outside. As soon as Cleo's tires touched the grass, she flinched. And stopped. Never in her life - a grand total of three-ish days - had she ever felt something like that before.

'Ooh, what's that green stuff on the ground?' She asked.

'That's grass,' Ruth said, already anticipating many questions today.

'So that's what grass is!' She beamed. 'And what about those tall brown-ish green things everywhere?'

'Those are trees. And they're- WOAH!'

Cleo, without a warning, dashed forward and zoomed towards one of the many, many trees that surrounded the workshop. That was how Ruth discovered that Cleo could reach her top speed very very quickly. And also had an astounding top speed. And a great braking speed too. Now that was some mighty whiplash.

'Wow!' Cleo said, unaware that Ruth was trying to shake off dizziness. 'These trees are so tall. And pretty! They look so much cooler up close than through those tiny windows! And look at that. THEY'RE EVERYWHERE!'

Ruth, once she recovered from the whiplash, couldn't help chuckling. Imagine getting so excited over something as mundane as a tree.

'And look at all the leaves on that one!' Cleo said, zooming off to another tree and causing more whiplash. 'There's one, two, three, four, five, uh… six? And, um… It's a lot!'

It was beautiful, in a sense. Ruth had seen so many trees in her life that she didn't even register them most of the time. They were just part of a background, something to admire only now and then. And here was Cleo, losing her mind at the sight. A car so young that she barely knew what a tree even was, delighted at the sight of something so… regular.

But of course she got so excited at the sight of a tree. She had never seen one up close before.

'OOH!' She cried. 'And what's that?'

Ruth was totally at her mercy as Cleo zoomed off over to a different part of the front yard: the railway tracks. A little too close. Ruth took control immediately and reversed Cleo away from the tracks, just by a few feet. Plenty far enough.

Cleo immediately frowned. 'Let me get closer to it!'

'You have to be careful around those,' Ruth said. 'Those are train tracks.'

'Train… tracks?' She smiled. 'Oh, I know what a train is! That's what I'm made of, right?'

A massive simplification of the process, but she was far too young to deal with the technicalities of it all. So, Ruth just said,

'Yep! If you're lucky, you'll see one chuff by the tracks any minute now. You've already seen a couple through the windows, but it's a lot more impressive when you see them up close.

'Cool!'

This 'test drive' was quickly turning into another session of educating the young child about the world around her. Ruth didn't complain. This was a lot more fun than a simple test run anyway.

Disappointingly, no engines passed by for the remainder of the day. It didn't surprise Ruth. She chose this location specifically because it didn't see a lot of traffic. To say the least, Cleo was quite upset. She pouted and whined.

'You told me that I'd see a train coming by!' She said, huffing. 'But there wasn't one. You lied to me!'

There hadn't been a single moment working with Cleo when Ruth forgot that she was a child, but moments like this still helped to remind her. If any other engine acted like this, they'd get a thorough talking-to. But Ruth couldn't get mad. How could she possibly get mad at a child for acting like a child? She wasn't like all the other engines, who had a couple decades or more of experience under their 'belts'.

'It's okay,' Ruth said. 'You'll see one tomorrow, I'm sure.'

'But I wanna see one now!' Cleo whined.

Ruth took a deep breath. This must've been how my mother felt, she thought, dealing with a young bratty daughter. She tried to remember what her mother did to deal with it, but it was so long ago that she struggled to come up with anything but the vaguest of memories.

So, she came up with her own idea.

'How about we go back to the workshop?' She asked. 'There, you can be grumpy all to yourself.'

'… Grumpy?' Cleo said. 'Is that what this feeling is? Because I don't like it!'

'I know. It's not very nice, is it? But don't worry. You'll get over it. And besides, you'll definitely be seeing an engine tomorrow!'

'… Alright. But you still promised!'

Cleo had seen an engine alright.

Far. Too. Closely.

Ruth's heart was still racing, even though they had made it out without a scratch.

It all started when Cleo met Thomas, the first engine she had ever met. They raced around the island together, giving Cleo a fantastic reason to see the rest of Sodor beyond the workshop. It was all fun and games… until Cleo hopped onto the tracks against Ruth's will.

'What's a Gordon?'

Right into the oncoming express.

Ruth had never, ever, in her life been so close to a speeding locomotive like that. Especially not with the locomotive steaming towards her. What a way to discover that Cleo's top speed was even higher than she thought. She may have seemed like she had it all under control and was able to save herself and Cleo with ease, but really, her mind hadn't stopped racing with WE'RE GONNA DIE WE'RE GONNA DIE WE'RE GONNA DIE the whole time.

But she made it out. With both her life and Cleo's. They made a swift escape off the tracks. And what did Gordon have to say for himself after he came this close to running someone over.

'RAIL HOGS!'

To be fair to him, Ruth would agree that it was totally on her for being unable to control Cleo. Gordon was on rails and, like all locomotives, was very slow to stop. Ruth, on the other hand, had a road vehicle she could take anywhere. But still, a little bit of sympathy may have been nice. Then again, perhaps asking Gordon for sympathy was a fool's errand.

'Oh thank god!' Ruth said, letting out a massive sigh of relief. 'We made it. So, how's that for a little excitement, Cleo?'

Cleo didn't reply. But Ruth could feel her beginning to tremble through the steering wheel. It wasn't the regular vibrations of her engine rumbling. It was a very different kind of shaking.

'I'm sh-sh-shaking,' She said, her voice small and squeaky. 'And I… I-I think I'm going to e-explode! What is this? W-What's wrong?!'

'It's fine,' Ruth said, softly. 'Nothing is wrong with you. What you're feeling is fear.'

'F-F-Fear? Is t-this what it feels like?'

'I'm afraid it is. You're feeling it because you almost got run over by Gordon and your life was in danger. You're not in danger anymore, but that won't make the fear go away suddenly.'

Cleo whimpered. 'I don't like this feeling! MAKE IT GO AWAY!'

Ruth leaned over and gave Cleo a gentle pat on the 'smoke box'. It was a little known fact that locomotives liked being patted sort of like cats, and the same applied to cars made of locomotive parts.

'I can't,' Ruth said. 'Fear is an important emotion to feel. It keeps us safe from danger. If we're scared of something, then we stay away from it. A big express engine is scary because it's dangerous to be around. I don't think I could remove your fear even if I wanted to, but if I could, I still wouldn't. It isn't safe to live a life without fear.'

'Make it go away!' Cleo cried.

Cleo, without warning, suddenly zipped backwards away from the tracks. She didn't go far. Just far and fast enough to give Ruth whiplash again.

'Make the bad feeling go away!' She shouted.

'Cleo, I can't,' Ruth said, firmly.

She expected to get another angry shout in response and braced for it. What came out, instead, however, was a voice so small you could barely even hear it.

'Y-You can't?'

'I really can't,' Ruth said. 'Fear is something we all feel. Engine, person, animal… it's normal. I can't just make it go away. But there are ways to deal with it.'

'L-Like what?'

'Seeing as this is your first time dealing with fear, I'm not sure what would be best for you. But I think it might be a good idea to go home and rest for a bit. How does that sound?'

Ruth waited patiently for the answer to arrive. She was willing to sit around all day if she had to. Luckily, she didn't. It didn't take very long for Cleo to make a decision.

'Y-Yeah,' She said. 'I wanna go home.'

It broke Ruth's heart. The tremble in her voice and the saddened request to go home gave Ruth the intense urge to wrap the little thing up in her arms and keep her safe from the world around her. A rather parental instinct that she didn't realise she even had. This must've been that intense drive that her mother talked about with her, that urge to keep your child safe no matter what.

She patted Cleo's 'smoke box' again.

'Okay,' She said, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. 'Let's go home.'

She took control of the wheel and followed the train tracks home. No matter how hard she pushed the accelerator, Cleo kept chugging along at a very slow speed. So she went along with it and eased up on the controls.

Until Cleo suddenly sped up.

'That mean jerk is back again!' She snapped.

'Mean… who?' Ruth asked.

Ruth managed to gain control of the speed and slow Cleo down a little, but she was still losing control of the steering wheel. While she was doing that, she tried to see who was the 'mean jerk' Cleo was talking about. Well, there weren't a lot of options. Cleo only knew three people - Ruth herself, Gordon, and Thomas. She'd have no reason to call Thomas a jerk, and if she wanted to call Ruth a jerk, she would've just said it to her face. So that left Gordon as the obvious choice. No-brainer on that one.

The problem? Ruth couldn't see Gordon around anywhere. A big blue express engine was hard to miss. The only other engine around was…

Henry.

The big green engine had stopped by a small station to drop off some trucks when Cleo caught sight of him. Ruth gasped.

'Wait, Cleo, don't!' She said. 'That's not-!'

'YOU!' Cleo yelled.

Henry flinched and yelped. Seeing the approaching vehicle didn't make him feel any less startled. He only grew more worried as an unfamiliar red car-looking thing pulled up next to him with a nasty glare on its face.

'M-Me?' He asked.

'Yeah, you!' Cleo said. 'Why didn't you slow down or stop when I was on the track? Y-You could've run right through me!'

'What?! I don't even know you!'

'Don't lie to me. You almost ran me over! I… I… I could've died cos'a you!'

'Cleo, please!' Ruth said. 'Stop! That isn't Gordon.'

Her pleas fell on deaf 'ears'. Cleo simply didn't listen. She was too busy being mad at 'Gordon' to hear a word being spoken to her. Henry gave her a good glare of his own.

'I did nothing of the sort!' He said, huffily. 'If you're going to accuse me of something that I didn't do, at least make it believable.'

'But you did!' Cleo said. 'I saw you. Your voice sounds kinda different, but I know what you did!'

Ruth unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out of the car. She stood between the two engines as safely as she could, making sure to stay back from the tracks.

'Cleo,' She said, firmly. 'Stop this at once.'

'Why should I?!' Cleo demanded. 'This big mean jerk almost ran me over and is lying to me!'

'I didn't!' Henry yelled, genuine distress seeping into his angry voice. 'I've never even seen you before. In fact, I don't even know what you are.'

'Stop lying to me!'

'CLEO!' Ruth yelled.

She didn't want to yell. Certainly not. Cleo was basically an infant in terms of what she knew about the world. But if she had to, then she had to. It certainly got Cleo to stop shouting. Before Cleo could ask what was wrong, Ruth butted in immediately.

'That isn't Gordon!' She said.

Cleo's anger went away like steam in the wind. 'I-It's not? But, he's all big like Gordon. He's got those weird triangle things around his face like Gordon. He's got that big ten-duh thing at the back like Gordon!'

'You… you thought I was Gordon?!' Henry said, clearly offended. 'Is that why you think I almost ran you over? Can't you see that I'm green instead of blue?'

'Well, y-yeah. But I didn't-'

'Did you think engines could just… change their liveries like that, whenever we want?!'

'… I… I didn't know you couldn't…'

Cleo's voice started to tremble. That parental instinct within Ruth took over again, but in a very different way. It wasn't the instinct that told her 'defend the child at all costs'. It was the instinct that shouted 'deal with the threat'.

'How foolish are you?' Henry said. 'Thinking that I was Gordon and believing that an engine can just-!'

'Henry, stop!'

Ruth wasn't in control. She snapped without thinking. It was harsh and sudden enough to make Henry jump. Never in her life had she snapped at an engine like that. Certainly not an engine like Henry.

'You have to stop,' She said, calming down a bit. 'Cleo really doesn't know much at all.'

'I- But to confuse me for Gordon?' Henry said. 'How young can she possibly be to make such an obvious mistake?'

'She came to life four days ago, Henry.'

With that, every bit of anger Henry felt disappeared from his face. Almost immediately. As that number sunk in, he couldn't bring himself to be mad any more. All that replaced it was an intense feeling of guilt.

'She… she what?' He asked.

'She's only four days old,' Ruth said. 'Probably much younger than anyone you've ever met. Even most of the babies you see people take on board with them are a little older than that. I didn't properly teach her about all the different engines on this railway. When she saw another big engine, she assumed it was the same engine as the one who almost ran her over.'

Cleo made a small sound, a sound like a hiccup. Her face scrunched up and her breath came in and out in a very jagged manner. Ruth recognised what that was right away. The parental urge grew ever stronger.

Henry recognised it too.

'Oh, Cleo, I'm so sorry!' He said. 'I-I didn't know. If I had known, I… I swear I wouldn't have…!'

Ruth cringed; this day seemed to be getting worse and worse. Almost getting run over by Gordon was easily the worst part, but accidentally upsetting Henry and feeling a whole flurry of unpleasant emotions weren't much better.

'It's fine,' Ruth said. 'How were you supposed to know?'

'I-I should've known something was up when she confused me for Gordon!' Henry said. 'Oh, what have I done?'

His fireman gave him a reassuring pat on his cab. It did little to soothe his feelings. Ruth was about to try reassuring him again, when Cleo made a sound that made her stop in her tracks. A sob.

The little thing was starting to cry.

As soon as Ruth saw a tear trickling down her face, she rushed to Cleo's side. The parental instinct that had her in its grasp took over stronger than other. But she had no idea how to act upon it. That drive demanding that she do something to help but without any idea on how to help left her feeling more frustrated than anything. All she could do was lean up against Cleo's 'boiler' and pat her.

'It's okay,' Ruth said in a gentle whisper. 'It's alright.'

'I-I don't like this feeling,' Cleo murmured, in between sobs she couldn't control. 'It's even w-worse than fear! I-I HATE IT!'

'What you're feeling is sadness. It's perfectly normal.'

'You… y-you can't make it go away, can you?'

Ruth's heart broke.

'No,' She said, sighing. 'I can't. All you can do is ride it out. It should go away on its own eventually.'

'I want it gone now!' Cleo cried.

'It isn't that easy, I'm afraid.'

Ruth looked up at Henry. He sat there with the guilt written all over his face.

'I'm sorry…' He said, quietly.

'It wasn't your fault,' Ruth said. 'She's just had a rough day.'

'I didn't help at all…'

She couldn't be certain, but Ruth was sure that Henry was about to start crying too. No one with a heart would feel any good after making a child cry, especially one so young. Ruth had only met Henry very briefly once before, overhearing him complain about a late delivery. The stories she had heard of him being a sensitive and gentle engine underneath that grumpy exterior were proving very true indeed.

'I won't be letting this happen again,' Ruth said. 'I haven't been doing a good enough job of teaching her things. If I had properly taught her about the dangers of the rails, or about all the different engines on this island, none of this would've happened.'

'Please,' Henry said. 'Teach her. I… I didn't get that when I first came to life. No one taught me anything. I-I think it's why I'm so nervous now. Don't let that happen to Cleo too.'

The conversation came to an end when the whistle was blown. As much as Henry wanted to stick around and see what happened to Cleo, he knew he had to leave. He left the station slowly, keeping a close eye on Cleo the whole time.

'I'll be having a word with Gordon about this…' He muttered.

While he chuffed away, Ruth gasped. Something hit her. If Henry hadn't been taught anything by his makers or previous owner when he first came to life, then he might've been the same engine who… An unpleasant thought. She pushed it aside to focus all of her attention on Cleo. The road engine was still weeping.

'I know what might make you feel better,' Ruth said.

'W-What?' Cleo asked, sniffling.

'Going back home and… taking it easy.'

'D-Do you promise?'

Ruth was silent for a moment.

'I can't promise anything,' She said. 'But I think it'll help. It's worth a try, isn't it?'

'I-I guess…'

Ruth took Cleo home right away after that. She parked her in the workshop and turned off the ignition to ensure she couldn't go anywhere. When Ruth tried to leave, however…

'Can… c-can you stay?' Cleo asked.

How could Ruth possibly say no? So, she stayed. She spent the time working on a new blueprint, making some rough sketches that were unlikely to evolve into anything. And a few train doodles. This one looked vaguely like Gordon, but it also could've been Henry. Or maybe Hiro?

After a while, Cleo's sobs wavered. The tears stopped flowing. Ruth wasn't sure how long it took. A few minutes? An hour? The rest of the afternoon? Time passed strangely when she was in her workshop. But no matter how long it took, eventually, Cleo's weeping trailed off into nothing more than the occasional sniffle.

'R-Ruth…' She said, so quietly that Ruth almost didn't hear her.

'Yes, Cleo?'

'I… I think I feel a little better. Kind of. I'm still not happy. But I'm not so sad now.'

Ruth smiled. 'I told you it would help.'

'It felt good to, um, ride it out.'

Ruth was feeling good for the first time in hours. Cleo smiled for a moment. A small, short-lived smile, yes. But a smile was a smile. Ruth got up from her seat and gave the odd-looking car another soft pat on the 'boiler'.

'Hey, Ruth,' Cleo said. 'What's that thing called when you feel bad about something you did?'

'It's called being sorry,' Ruth replied.

'R-Right. Um, later, can I tell Henry that I'm sorry?'

Ruth could feel her heart leaping out of her chest. A mere four days after coming to life, Cleo was already learning the concept of saying sorry. No, not just saying it. Feeling it. Underneath the usual child-like brattiness was a good heart.

'Of course,' Ruth said. 'It's a bit late right now, and Henry needs an early night's rest for his big job in the morning, but we'll find time for it tomorrow.'

'Hooray!'

Over her years of being an inventor, ever since she was a young child, Ruth had many inventions that she was proud of. Inventions that put her name in history books and would have her praised for years and years to come. But no invention left her nearly as proud as this one did.

WOOOO WOOOOOOOO!

Both Ruth and Cleo flinched. The train came loudly and grandly. Ruth recognised it immediately. It was Gordon's whistle. Cleo must've recognised it too, because she started shaking right away.

'H-He's back!' She cried.

'It's alright,' Ruth said. 'I'll see what he's up to. Don't worry. He can't hurt you if you're not on the rails.'

Okay, so that wasn't entirely accurate since derailments were a thing, but it was accurate enough. Cleo believed her words and calmed down a little, but she was still shivering a bit. Ruth opened up the doors to the workshop and stepped outside. There, stood Gordon. Stood. He wasn't chuffing up and down the line with a line of coaches behind him. He was there, light engine and standing still.

'Hello, Ruth,' He said, unusually awkwardly. 'May I… have a talk with Cleo?'

Just like that, it all made sense. Ruth could tell from the look of humility on his smoke box and the soft tone in his voice exactly what he was here for. And seeing as he knew Cleo's name, even though there would've been very little opportunity to learn it before, well…

'Let me guess,' Ruth said, small grin on her face. 'Henry gave you a talking-to?'

Gordon blushed ever so slightly. 'T-That doesn't matter! All that matters is that I want to talk to Cleo.'

Ruth checked behind her shoulder. Cleo was peeking out from behind the open doors, still shaking a little. She inched outside slowly. Very slowly.

'Come on, Cleo!' Ruth said. 'It's okay. Gordon won't hurt you! Even if he wanted to-'

'Which I don't!' Gordon said, indignantly.

'He can't if you're not on the rails.'

'Y-You promise, Ruth?' Cleo asked.

Ruth gave her a sweet smile. 'Of course.'

Cleo took Ruth's words to heart immediately and zipped out of the workshop. She was standing next to Ruth in a matter of seconds. Staring up at the mighty express engine. She was still shuddering, especially now that she remembered how big Gordon actually was compared to her.

'H-Hi, Gordon,' She said, very quietly.

During her brief, brief encounter with Gordon, he had worn a face of sheer fury. To the point where it had been impossible to imagine him with any other expression. But there he was, giving her a look that Cleo (after a few seconds of thought) identified as some form of 'feeling bad'.

'Hello, Cleo,' Gordon said, quieter than usual. 'I'm here to have a talk.'

'About what?' Cleo asked.

'About… me almost running into you.'

Cleo flinched hard enough to move backwards a few inches. It had only been a few hours ago, but she had already decided she never wanted to think of it again. And yet, here they were. Talking about it. Gordon must've noticed it, because his frown grew.

'Now, you still should not have been on the tracks,' He said. 'The railway is a dangerous place to loiter- I mean, stand around on. Us engines are fast and strong. If we were to hit something on the tracks, we're likely to do terrible damage. We cannot move off our rails or swerve like a car can. We like this way of life, thank you very much, but it means that the responsibility lies in people and vehicles like you to stay away from our tracks.'

'Y-Yeah,' Cleo said, very quietly. 'I know that now.'

'I should've taught her that, day one,' Ruth said. 'It's my fault, really.'

Gordon cleared his throat. 'Excuse me. I wasn't finished yet. Yes, Cleo, it's true that you should've stayed far away from my rails to begin with. But, I… have been informed that you are just a child. Only four days old. Not even four years. Day. Not even a week! You almost lost your life, and all I did was yell at you and not even bother apologising. That was unacceptable. And because of that, you accidentally upset Henry when you confused him for me. It wasn't my fault that you were on the tracks, but the way I acted was horrible. If I had known you were a child, I wouldn't have…' He grunted. 'No. It would've been unacceptable no matter what. All this to say… I'm so sorry.'

Ruth was, frankly, shocked. Surprised and stunned. Amazed and a-dazed, even. She hadn't been on Sodor very long and hadn't heard Gordon apologise once that whole time. With all the stories she had heard about him, she imagined that he couldn't. But nope. There he was. Apologising. Sure, it had been after Henry gave him a talking-to, but still!

She wasn't sure how Cleo would react. The odd-looking car didn't say anything at first. Just stared at the grass. Then, she backed up and went forward again so she could get a little closer to Ruth.

'Uh, so, when you like the sorry-ing and aren't angry anymore, what is that?' She asked in a whisper.

Ruth smiled. 'You've forgiven them.'

'Oh, okay!' She gave Gordon a big smile. 'I forgive you, Gordon!'

She said it with such a chipper voice. And so casually too. She must not have understood the weight that a forgiveness could have. It was forgiveness all the same, though.

'You… you do?' Gordon said, just as surprised as Cleo's forgiveness as Ruth had been.

'Yep!' Cleo said. 'You feel bad. So I forgive you!'

'Y-You don't have to forgive someone if you don't want to. Sometimes you're still upset, or what the other engine did was really bad, and it's okay not to-'

'But I'm not still upset! I'm not angry anymore. And I want to forgive you! So, I forgive you.' She smiled even wider. 'Ooh, we could even be friends, like me and Thomas!'

Gordon didn't know what to say. He did not think he'd get this far. And then, he smiled. Not his usual smug grins either. A soft sort of smile. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he adored children and loved making them happy. He even had a soft spot for Philip (sort of, buried deep within him, which sometimes disappeared whenever Philip brought up the 'race').

'I'd like that very much,' He said. 'As long as you never drive on my tracks again. I wouldn't want to run you over. When I almost run people over, it's scary for me too. I came very close to running over a little girl once.' He winced. 'It leaves you shaken.'

Cleo gasped. 'Oh, that sounds really bad! I promise I won't do that ever again. I promise. Friends?'

'Friends.'

Ruth was especially proud of Cleo that day. For experiencing so many emotions. For learning (the hard way) to stay away from the tracks. For apologising and learning to forgive. And especially for managing to make friends with Gordon, of all engines.

And the next day, Cleo made quick friends with Henry too.

A couple months went by, and Cleo never did something as silly as play on the tracks again. Ruth made sure to spend as much time as possible teaching her child about the world. Luckily, Cleo loved learning more than anything.

One day, they went to the quarry. There, Cleo found out where the rocks came from, and Ruth gladly explained how they were formed in the first place. And Mavis helped explain the differences between steamies and diesels. Cleo was very fond of the quarry… until she got bored with how samey and grey it all looked. She wasn't a big fan of the quarry dust making her sneeze either.

Another day, they went to Arlesburgh. That was Cleo's introduction to brake vans; Toad was very polite, and she liked being called 'Ms Cleo' quite a bit. Oliver's story of escaping scrap amazed her, and Duck found her questionable attempts at doing things the 'Great Western' way to be very entertaining. And she was also introduced to water. The hard way. Needless to say, she wouldn't be going for any more swims after that. Intentionally, anyway.

And after those couple of months, Ruth began to trust Cleo to go out on her own from time to time. To teach her independence. By now, Cleo knew all about the dangers of the railways and was very careful around them. The other engines, especially Gordon and Henry, made sure that she stayed safe. The first few times, it worked out just fine. At worst, she'd come back with a couple dents or a particularly embarrassing story. Apparently, they were calling it "Cleo's River" now. But the strange little car always came back with a smile on her face, ready to yap on and on about whatever happened to her that day.

One day, however, Cleo didn't come back looking so happy…

Ruth had been watching her favourite British soap opera on the telly when she heard Cleo come back inside. She stayed in her seat just a few seconds longer to hear what the big plot twist was - Andy was horrified to find out that his girlfriend's baby was actually his twin brother Randy's! - before hopping out and going to check up on Cleo.

The sight broke her heart.

Cleo was on the verge of tears. She hadn't cried once since her encounter with Gordon, aside from when Ruth introduced her to a couple movies to help with her emotional regulation (spoilers, the deer's mother dies). She was usually as chipper as could be. Today, however? Her whole face scrunched up, and Ruth could hear her trying to fight it back.

In an instant, Ruth's parental instinct kicked in again. She knelt down beside Cleo and gave her the best hug she could. Cleo leaned into it like a lonely kitten. Up close, Ruth could better hear the way her breath shuddered and jolted.

'Aw, Cleo, what's wrong?' She asked.

One thing that she made clear to Cleo was that, no matter what, she could be open to her 'mother' about whatever was making her sad and angry. Ruth hoped that this would be much like any other moment she was upset. But the response she got left her horrified.

'R-Ruth… a-am I a f-freak?'

Ruth was so stunned by the question that she didn't know what to say. Her stomach did backflips inside her and she felt gross head-to-toe. What a horrible thing for a child of any age, but especially one so young, to ask. The only reason why someone would ask a question like that would be…

'Cleo,' Ruth said. 'Tell me what happened today.'

'W-Well,' Cleo said, her voice trembling. 'I met two more diesels today. But they weren't nice diesels like Mavis or Salty or Daisy. They were mean. Really mean. They looked at me and laughed. And called me a freak. A-and a Fran-kin-steen monster. I don't know what that is b-but it sounds bad.'

Ruth clenched up her fists. Arry and Bert. The two biggest bullies on the island. Even Devious Diesel himself wasn't as bad as them. Those two made her feel bad for the other diesels on Sodor, who had to deal with Arry and Bert making them all look bad. Next time she saw those two, they'd be receiving the calling-out of a lifetime.

'T-They laughed at me for having train parts instead of car parts,' Cleo said, sniffling. 'They… they said I was built all wrong. That m-my builder must've made a mistake. That I shouldn't even exist!'

She couldn't hold it back any longer. The tears started to trickle down her face. It made Ruth all the angrier at those engines for being so cruel. To a child, no less. But she held the anger back. Now wasn't the time for anger. That wasn't what Cleo needed. She patted her 'child' on the bonnet, making sure to keep close.

'R-Ruth…' Cleo said. 'C-Can you fix me?'

'Fix you?!' Ruth cried. 'What do you mean, fix you? There's nothing broken, so there's nothing to fix.'

'But you have to f-fix me! You have to. Y-You have to make me like a normal car!'

Ruth looked Cleo in the eyes. For someone so young, she sounded so serious about this. So serious about getting herself 'fixed', to repair something that wasn't broken to begin with. Ruth reached out and wiped a tear away.

'You don't have to be fixed,' She said. 'Don't let those engines tell you otherwise.'

'B-But I'm not normal!' Cleo said, weeping harder. 'I'm supposed to be a car made of car parts. Not a car made of train parts! I'm not a train. I'm not a car. I'm just a… a… f-freak!'

'No! Y-You're not, Cleo. You're not…'

To her own surprise, Ruth could feel her eyes starting to well with tears too. Her mother had told her that whenever Ruth was sad, she would end up feeling that pain as if it was her pain too. It was something that never made much sense to Ruth. Not until now. Not until she could feel Cleo's horrible sadness coursing through her own body.

'Y-You can fix me,' Cleo said. 'You can make me a n-normal engine. You have to make me a normal engine!'

'Cleo, please!' Ruth said. 'I can't.'

'Why not?!'

'Because… b-because…'

Ruth rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. Her mother had always stayed strong for her. And now it was time for her to be strong for her own child. She could cry in private if she had to. Today, however, she had to keep it together. Cleo's pain was unbearable, but she had to push through it. She sat in front of Cleo, looked her right in the eye, and cupped her face with her hand as best she could.

'I can't fix what isn't broken,' She said.

Cleo sniffled and gave her the saddest pair of eyes that Ruth had ever seen.

'I-I'm not broken?' She asked.

Ruth tried her best to give her the most genuine smile she could.

'No,' She said. 'Of course you're not. You're not broken. And you're certainly not a freak.'

'But… b-but I'm made all wrong,' Cleo said. 'My parts should make a train, but they made a car instead. And cars aren't supposed to have, um… cow-ter weights. Whatever those are.'

'You're unique, Cleo. Unlike any other vehicle on Sodor, or perhaps the whole world. Perhaps there is such a thing as an engine who was built wrong. But engines who are built wrong don't work well. They have mechanical faults. But you don't. You work just as well as any other vehicle does. If not better. You're just different from the rest. That doesn't make you broken.'

'I-It doesn't?'

Ruth leaned in just a little closer. 'No. There's nothing wrong with being different. People are born different all the time. That doesn't make them freaks. And you're not a freak either. Or anything else those nasty diesels called you. You're just…'

Her voice trailed off. The longer she looked into Cleo's heartbroken face, the worse she felt. And the more she began to question not just the words she was speaking, but the decision to build Cleo in the first place. She had never admitted it to Cleo - and never would - but she knew she had no intention of creating life when she invented her locomotive car. It was just a fun little invention. She moved away from Cleo as she internally asked herself a question.

Would I have created Cleo if I had known she would come to life?

It was a question she didn't want to answer. The past few months with Cleo had been some of the best of her whole life, and she had embraced this strange 'motherhood' with open arms. The ethics of having a child and if it was even right to 'force' a life to exist was a debate she was fine with staying out of. But if she had known that Cleo would be facing a problem like this, only a few months after her 'birth', would she have gone through with her idea?

The answer didn't really matter, of course. Cleo was already alive. There was no taking that back without ending a life. But if she had known…

'I'm… special?' Cleo asked.

Ruth looked up into those big eyes. Eyes that now glimmered with a glint of hope. Of curiosity. Of the Cleo who Ruth knew and loved since the day she came to life. It brought a smile to Ruth's face. It was a weak smile. One that trembled at the corners. But it was a smile all the same.

Looking into those eyes gave Ruth her answer.

Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes!

'T-That's right,' She said. 'You're special. Not a freak. You're my special little Cleo.'

Cleo sniffled and managed a tiny smile. 'I-I am?'

'Of course you are! You're exactly how I wanted you to be, a strange but lovely car built with locomotive parts. If I had wanted a car made with car parts, I would've simply made that. But I didn't want that. So I didn't. What I wanted was you, Cleo. And I wouldn't change you for the world. I love you, Cleo. Not despite your differences. No, because of them. There's no one like you, Cleo, and that's how I want you to be. From now, until forever.'

She found herself leaning towards Cleo again, though she couldn't remember moving forward. Still, she didn't move. If anything, she only wanted to get closer. So she did. She sat right by Cleo's 'smoke box', leaning up against her 'boiler'. Cleo may have been bigger than her, but it felt almost like holding a toddler close to one's chest. Like she was protecting Cleo from whatever dangers would befall them.

'I'm special…' Cleo murmured, smiling with gusto now.

'That's right,' Ruth said, patting her bonnet. 'You're the most special little engine on this entire island. More special than Thomas, I think. And that's why I love you.'

Cleo's smile grew even more. 'I'm special! I'm not a freak. I'M SPECIAL!'

Ruth, despite the emotions still swelling within her like a flurry, laughed. A big laugh full of energy and love. There was yet another thing to love about her locomotive 'child' - Cleo's beautiful ability to perk right up and keep going. That strange car had high highs and low lows. Those high highs made the lowest of the lows worth it.

'Yeah, what do those meanie old diesels know anyway!' Cleo said. 'I bet they're just stupid old jerks. I'm Cleo, and I'm made of locomotive parts, and I'M PROUD OF IT!'

'You go, Cleo!' Ruth said. 'Be proud of who you are!'

'I'M CLEO, AND I'M SPECIAL!'

Cleo had never worried about being a 'freak' since then. Though she continued to have her low lows, such as when she failed to save a snowman from melting, she would always perk right back up again. And Ruth couldn't have been prouder to call Cleo her child. Even if it made certain conversations with her parents a little awkward.

And, on a completely unrelated note, Gordon had gone down to the smelter's yard the next day just to biff Arry and Bert so hard that they went clean off the tracks. He refused to explain why he did it. But Ruth had a good idea as to why.