A/N: I would like to thank my online sister Raphianna for helping me put this story together! I also lost someone recently, so… it might be a bit raw. But I hope you all enjoy it, regardless!

Warning: suicide of a major character, and implied character death from its predecessor, 'A Requiem for Thomas' another of my fanfics I wrote earlier on.

…

In the days following the accident that robbed Thomas of his life, Edward was numb; with pain, with sadness, with grief, with anger, with loss. He found it hard to accept that he would never hear Thomas' joy-filled laughter or see his sweet yet cheeky smile again.

Prior to Thomas' arrival, Edward had lived a largely lonely life on Sodor. His crew were wonderful, Sir Topham Hatt trusted him with affairs in the yard willingly, and Henry showed him kindness, but whenever Gordon or James made fun of his old age, he sometimes retreated to join the duo. Edward willingly forgave the three afterwards, but back then when they insulted him unfairly, it stung.

And then, Thomas joined the fleet as the North Western Railway's first official tank engine. Young, determined, cheeky yet kind… Edward had never seen such a confident, lively and cheery engine before meeting Thomas.

Thomas got into his share of scrapes, but the little tank engine always stuck up for him against the bigger engines' harsh critiques, chose the colour blue to honour his beloved mentor, and always, always tried his hardest to live by Edward's lessons. Since his early days in the yard, the blue tank engine had become Edward's closest friend- a comforting presence who made him feel joy, worry, elation, fear (for his safety!) - but not loneliness.

Only now, with a gaping hole in his heart, he realised the one thing he would regret for the rest of his days was that he had realised that he never got to voice how Thomas was more than a 'young friend' to him. He was so, so much more than that.

He was the son Edward never had.

And now, Thomas was scrapped, never to hear the words the old K2 had longed to tell him following his brave efforts to rescue James from a cow field.

Why, oh why had he been so afraid to tell Thomas how he felt?

In the nights he did manage to sleep, he would have night terrors… of Thomas. The little blue engine would be crying out with fear and sadness- and the worst part was, he was always on his own, with no friends and no light to lead him home.

'I want to go home... Edward, where are you? I don't know where I am, and I'm scared. I want to be back with you!'

Other nights, Thomas showed more resilience- or was it Edward trying to give himself strength using Thomas as a comfort? He couldn't tell anymore.

He was hurting- a raw, undiluted grief which clawed at his mind whenever the subject of Thomas or his tragic demise came up.

'I've tried to be brave. It's hurting me. But I'll keep trying!' Thomas yelled, before he was quickly swallowed by the darkness of Edward's grief. No amount of crying and waling could induce the tank engine's return.

Nothing ever could.

But sometimes, if he's lucky, the night terrors turn into beautiful dreams with the two being reunited in floods of happy tears.

"Oh, Edward, I never want to be apart from you again!" Thomas sniffed joyfully, looking up at his mentor with adoration and love.

"I also never to be apart from you again, Thomas," Edward said warmly, and he pressed his buffers gently and lovingly to Thomas'.

But even with this little comfort in mind, Edward just couldn't bear the emotional pain in his boiler any longer- especially whenever he awoke to find Thomas still dead, still gone forever.

It wasn't right that Thomas had been taken away from him…from everyone on Sodor and the world. He had been getting on in years- was 103 years old now- but he was still the same cheeky, loveable tank engine who first came to the yard so long ago.

'What's wrong? Do I have soot on my face?'

The memory made Edward chuckle weakly- but even now, trying to remember Thomas was the hardest thing he had ever done. He broke down in tears whenever he heard his name, or thought he heard his voice- only it wasn't really Thomas's voice at all; it was just his imagination playing tricks on him.

He would willingly put up with any hell Gordon and James put him through a second time around- even worse if necessary- if only Thomas could be returned, alive and well, to Sodor.

"If only…" Sighed Edward. "If I had to endure it again to bring him back, I would find it less hard than dealing with him being gone forever…."

…..

Edward made up his mind the day before, and now, with his crew safely away in the workmen's hut for a well-deserved rest, he decided he was going to carry it out tonight.

Quietly, he left his berth at Tidmouth Sheds, with only a whispered farewell to the other engines slumbering peacefully, before using the turntable for the last time.

He quietly steamed across the island- past Wellsworth, up Gordon's Hill, and along the line, until he found the rundown siding hidden behind a thick wall of trees that led to an enormous drop to a rocky outcrop… and the sea. He had found it just after his friend's death, and he felt that it would be fitting for its purpose.

He moved down the rickety track until he was fifteen feet away from the cliff. He stopped, allowing himself to feel the Sudrian wind on his face. It swept across his face in cold, biting motions, almost as though it was reprimanding him from his decision.

But he ignored the wind. His mind was resolute- this was his only way of his grief for his friend, his son.

"I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do, everyone." He whispered to the wind, his voice soft and sorrowful. "I've tried to be strong and move on- but I can't. I regret so much…and I am hurting, because I loved Thomas as more than a friend… he was like a son I couldn't have. The son I wanted to have…and his last accident, as well as my own fears, have robbed him of all chances to hear how much I loved him…"

Tears flooded his eyes, but he forced himself to look up at the sky, where stars twinkled against an inky backdrop. Below, the grey waves crashed silently onto the jagged teeth of the landscape- but Edward paid no heed to the beauty of his spot. He was here for his final purpose, not to admire the landscape of Sodor.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke once more, tears spurting from his now closed eyes.

"I'm sorry for the pain that I am about to cause on all of you... but I just can't keep going anymore. Not without Thomas. Not without him." He whispers. "I'm sorry… everyone. Percy, Henry, Sir, Gordon, James, Toby, BoCo, Duck, Bill and Ben... all of you. Please, forgive me for hurting you all further. But I feel it's better off this way…. But, before I go, you have all been the greatest friends an old engine such as I could ever have, and I appreciate everything you have ever done for me…. look after each other, please… for me."

And then, with all the strength he had left, Edward steamed forward as fast as his wheels would carry him…and sped off the cliff…

He allowed the wind to whistle round his smokebox, before closing his eyes for the last time…

…..

The next day, the news spread about what happened to poor Edward.

How this came to be was that four fishermen out on the Olly Anna fishing boat found the old engine's whistle, before one gravely spotted the wreckage- dashed to pieces on the rocks.

It was obvious he was gone as well… so the fishermen took their hats off in respect of the dead engine.

"We better radio land." One said solemnly. The captain, a young, clean shaven man in his late 30s, took the responsibility of radioing the Brendam harbourmaster. Once the engine's description was given, Edward was identified as the engine who died.

The harbourmaster thanked the fishermen for their courtesy, before hanging up the phone, and pinched the bridge of his nose, before dialling the Fat Controller- currently in his office at Knapford Station.

"Ah, Jenkins! Any news of Edward's disappearance?" he asked hopefully. The harbourmaster's heart sank at the prospect of revealing the grim news.

"Yes, sir. Some fishermen out on the Olly Anna just got in touch. I'm afraid Edward is little more than a legacy to the railway now. I'm sorry."

The Fat Controller let his phone fall and then he allowed several tears to fall for one of his oldest and wisest engines.

….

Later, he gathered the engines -and Edward's crew- together at Tidmouth later that morning to share the sad news of Edward's suicide.

"Sir, what's happened to Edward?" Henry asked, worried.

"Will he be okay?" Percy piped up.

The Fat Controller sighed, not looking forward to breaking the news. But it had to be done. "I'm afraid…. I'm afraid he is gone." He said, allowing a few tears to fall on finally saying it to someone. The engines fell silent in shock and horror at seeing their boss cry… and the reason for it.

"Gone? Whatever do you mean, sir?" Asked Gordon arrogantly, but his voice contained an underlying note of alarm at their boss's tone. He did not like where this was going.

"You don't mean, sir…?" Emily asked fearfully. "Did he….?"

"He…. He jumped off a cliff last night. Some fishermen on the Olly Anna found his… his remains this morning. I'm so sorry to had to hear this, everyone,"

The engines gasped in horror as the news finally hit them like a sack of bricks- particularly James, who blanched at this newly added tragedy to the Steam Team.

"He did say he felt life wasn't living the other day…." He whispered in shock and fright. "I heard him say that, sir, but I didn't think he'd go through with it…. I wish I spoke up now. Maybe…maybe…"

"Please, I don't want anyone blaming themselves for Edward's suicide." The Fat Controller said gently. "It won't do any good. I'm very, very sorry to have to tell you all this- especially so soon after Thomas' loss."

They all looked towards Thomas' empty berth- filled with scented candles, poems, flowers of varying freshness, photographs, teddy bears and dolls (from children paying tribute to their fallen hero) and messages from everyone- even the engines (who had theirs written by their crews on their behalf.)

"I'm closing the railway once again, as a mark of respect to Edward. You'll have some time off work to grieve." The Fat Controller finished sadly. "I will hold a memorial service to Edward- like the one for Thomas, and I hope you can all attend."

"Thank you, sir," Gordon said numbly, already bitterly regretting all the times he teased Edward for his old age- and he also regretted not showing his appreciation more whenever Edward had to help him up the hill ('again!' as Edward would so cheerfully phrase it.)

Now two of their friends were gone. What were the engines to do with themselves?

…..

The next night, all the engines were at Tidmouth Sheds. Emily, Percy and Henry were sobbing and crying. James and Gordon were both numb and in a state of shock over losing Edward- and so soon after losing Thomas as well.

It was horrible, for no one knew what to say to relieve the pain or comfort each other. They all either had tears, regrets, or silence for company.

Suddenly, they all heard laughter coming from the tracks near the sheds. At first, Gordon was tempted to bellow in rage at whoever was being so insolently disrespectful as to laugh and remain in normalcy when their world was tragically turned upside down for a second time.

But then, Percy let a tearful smile break out across his face as he recognised the laughter. "Listen, everyone" he whispered quietly, and they did. Everyone was dumbfounded when they recognised the joyous sounds on the line.

Sobs were silenced, silence was doused, and curiosity was ignited.

All too familiar laughter continued to ring across the yard- as well the sound of two engines moving along tracks.

Apart from Percy, the engines looked around in disbelief before exchanging panicked looks. It couldn't be true. They were gone! How could they be here, right now?!

"Ha-ha! I'll get you Thomas!" A familiar voice said happily.

Then there was giggling. "No, you won't Edward!" A second, also familiar, voice replied cheekily, before the laughter quietly faded away- as did the sound of engines moving along the tracks.

Percy started tearing up. Despite their violent deaths, Edward and Thomas never sounded better, or happier. "They're… They're alright…" He sniffed, blinking back tears of happiness at hearing his two closest friends were happy at being reunited once more in death.

"Well, that's a comfort, at least," said James quietly, managing a brave smile at the green tank engine next to him, and everyone smiled at each other.

It would take a long time, and it was going to be a very painful road to travel down with two of their friends now dead and in the grave- but they knew, deep down, that things would eventually get better.

After all, they had affectionate memories of the two deceased engines, and they still had the love of each other as a family to march through the pain and hurt, before moving on- and honouring the lives and memories of the two blue engines they were proud to call their best friends.