Author's note:
Hi all. This is my first TTTE fiction piece. It's only a shipfic if you squint. Otherwise, it's just a angsty, friendship story.
The lyrics belong to Lizz Robinett and the song belongs to Mothy.
Warning: Major character death and mentions of depression.
"You seriously believe in that silly story, Henry?" "Of course I do." The green engine says, contently watching the little bottle that his driver placed upon the waves of the sea as it floats away from the shore. He said with a wistful smile on his face. "It's the first thing I ever believed in before I came to Sodor."
...
How long has it been? Since that very day they were here? Since the last time Henry was beside him anywhere on this island before it happened. Those thoughts were conjured up as deja vu began to appear in Gordon's firebox. He still remembered that sad, yet beautiful melody. Why couldn't he remember the name of that song? Alas, he continued to stare at the ocean as its reflection mimicked the sunset above. Musing about the song on the beach was not what he was planned to do, he had something else in mind.
Far away at the shore, in a town beside the sea,
Alone stands a engine, staring longingly,
It is here, at the shore, that he holds unto his heart,
A secret he dare never speak.
The latter began to look back to the events that led him here, to distract him from the pain rotting away deep inside.
He heard the sea-loving diesel engine who's name is Salty retelling this legend that came from a time long ago. Like Cranky, Gordon barely took interest in this 'so-called' legend of Salty's, until a Stanier Black 5 spoke up.
'That's a story that I know came true.' Gordon recalled Henry saying. This obviously didn't change his opinion about it, however, it did indeed made him curious. Not the legend, but why Henry said that. When the no.4 asked him, he only told him to come with him to the beach and he'll explain it there.
"If you write a wish upon a paper and you place,
It into a glass bottle,
And it's washed away by the ocean then someday,
There's a chance that it may just come true,"
They were at the shore, where Henry's driver had a glass bottle with a parchment. Henry's wish was written on the letter, his driver with the ocean to his knees slowly and with care, gave the bottle to Neptune's calm waters. The green engine seemed satisfied. "You seriously believe in that silly story, Henry?" "Of course I do." The green engine says, contently watching the little bottle that his driver placed upon the waves of the sea as it floats away from the shore. He said with a wistful smile on his face. "It's the first thing I ever believed in before I came to Sodor."
Henry continued to explain his acknowledgement of the tale.
"Back when I was just built, I was in a poor working state. My old owner thought there would be no chance of me being bought and was thinking about selling me to a factory nearby to scrap me and reuse the metal. There was one worker who was actually there for me, he told me the legend that if you write a wish on a paper into a glass bottle and give it to the sea, it's bound to come true. And it did."
For some reason, Gordon felt somewhat sympathetic for the engine next to him. "So… what did you wish for this time?"
Henry only grinned with a smug tone in his answer to the no.4's question.
"Well, I wished that a certain engine will finally beat his brother, the Flying Scotsman in a race because he's certainly becoming the slowest engine of Sodor." Henry enjoyed the reaction from the joke, he couldn't hold his laughter in. Gordon was even betrayed by his own driver and fireman who also laughed at the latter's shocked expression.
"To be honest, I wished that all my friends will live safely and peacefully on Sodor." Gordon couldn't help but smile at Henry's innocent side. "You don't really need to wish for that, Henry. Life on Sodor is already peaceful as it is." "I still wanted to make that wish." 'Maybe it's peaceful because you're around.' Gordon thought as he and Henry watched the bottle float away into the sunset.
Drifting farther away, riding swiftly on the waves,
A message containing a wish was made,
Heading steadily toward the horizon,
And gradually fading away,
Henry was Gordon's closest friend and vice versa. For most, it was hard to see the friendship between them to match Thomas and Percy's. Only those who would pay close attention could tell.
Throughout the years, Henry went along with the majority of his schemes for better or worse. In return, the Express engine had been a pompous, teasing pain in the tender to him. Gordon always took his pride and dignity as his first priority.
Like the time Gordon told Henry that he was using his whistle too much as an excuse to lash out his jealousy when Henry took his job. The no.3 had just recovered from a horrific accident at the time!
He thoroughly realised that it was unfair… and even though he had changed a bit, Gordon remained like that for decades… he now knew the pain and hurt Henry felt through those years, for all this time…he regretted his actions… but his greatest mistake, he could never forgive himself for it...
Through the darkest of days, you were always by my side
No matter what I would say, you would abide
Constantly I let my selfishness take control of me
And caused you a life full of grief
Gordon planned another trick on Duck, being sick of his 'Great Western Ways'. Henry was against it, yet he went along with it. They were going to the bridge. The same old bridge that couldn't support them both. Face to face, both of them displayed fear. Even at this rate, the Sodor Rescue Team can only rescue the people on board the steam engines (thankfully, there were only their crews present), and the two steam engines if the bridge could stay stronger for a little longer. It couldn't. Both their crews had been evacuated but the bridge was close to collapsing, the chances of two heavy tender engines falling into the deep sea below were high.
"All I wanted was to show Duck that the Great Western Way isn't always right. I didn't want this to happen." Gordon then saw a glint in Henry's eyes, followed by tears flowing down and a smile that he didn't know he was going to see for the very last time.
"It's been a while since I took the express for you. The last time I did, I remember saying this…Hi Gordon.."
He couldn't do anything to stop Henry, frozen on the spot,
"Bye Gordon…"
And with that, the green tender engine in front of him disappeared in a blink of an eye, followed by a tremendous crash, contrasting the metal body to Neptune's waves of the sea.
"You never really know how much something is worth to you until it's gone" Hiro said that to him when he was being repaired secretly in his hideout. Gordon always had that memory somewhere in his subconsciousness, never bothered to understand what Hiro meant. Maybe the latter was reminiscing about his homeland. That was all the Doncaster engine defined it as...Until the very moment that Gordon was on safeland, in the figure of speech, his 'heart' skipped a beat when they found him… or to be clear...what was left…
But now, all because of the mistakes that I have made,
You're no longer here with me,
In order to get all this pain off of my chest,
I must spill my woes into the sea,
"You can repair him can't you?! You've mended him plenty of times before! Victor please!" Gordon's beseeching cries were not fallen on deaf ears, but instead, ears that want to move on from the horrid truth of the tragedy. The rest of the Steamworks was dead silent, allowing the no.4's requests to crumble freely in the air. Not even Kevin's usual slip of the hook made a sound. "I'm sorry Gordon, but there's nothing I can do. It's beyond me to…" The Cuban engine could not find the words to subtly tell the begging steam engine, too pained to even glance at the flatbed with a white cloth to cover the poor soul on board, still dripping with salt water.
"Send him to Crewe again! Rebuild him if you have too! You have to try Victor! I'm begging you!"
He certainly caused confusion and delay that day, Gordon even rebelled against the railway's manager, trying to rescue the flatbed from the Smelters Yard to be scrapped by the Diesel Twins who worked there. He still believed in the impossible fantasy of the engine defying the Reaper's law of death, a chance to return to the realm of the living. If only that were true…
"How stupid can a steamie be?! It's only a load of scrap metal! It's our job to scrap it!" "Don't you dare call Henry scrap metal!" A tug of war took place, Arry and Bert against Gordon. "We don't get the opportunity to do our job often, you get to do yours every day! Scrapping the goddamn engine will make us even!" The insults directed to the load upon the flatbed only fueled Gordon's strength and determination to win against the odds, he slowly pulled back. The feud obviously cause an uproar of gossip throughout the island. Diesel was present and so was Edward and James who came to calm down their angered friend. It wasn't much longer til Sir Topham Hatt made an appearance.
"Gordon, you will behave right this instant," scolded STH, "You will let go of the flatbed and let Arry and Bert do their job. You know what happens to engines who misbehave on my railway." Blinded by hate, Gordon didn't even care if he was sent away or scrapped. Screw the rules and the consequences. Screw this railway and his dignity. Screw the Fat Controller.
"This flatbed has an engine who's been around since the beginning of the goddamn railway! Now you're going to scrap him like he's rubbish behind his back?! Not even with the sense of dignity?! Shame on you!" STH was astonished by the engine's rude reply, but nonetheless, he was more cross than ever before. Despite the obvious look on his face, Gordon continued the insults and heck, even some swears.
The chain that Gordon had pulled so hard with such abuse had snapped, letting him to freely bump into a siding. Gordon was then blocked by Diesel, who he challenged to recover the flatbed. The flatbed that Arry and Bert had in their possession and ready to be pushed into the abyss of golden light emitted by the magma swirling below, waiting for its next sacrifice. James only closed his eyes in remorse, Edward only sadly gazed at Gordon whose soul was shaken by horror before following James' actions. The late engine's name echoed in the facility, there was no need to guess who delivered that mourning outcry…
STH couldn't have an emotionally raged steam engine roaming the rails. He had no choice but to punish the latter later that night. "You have been a very, very naughty engine, and I can't let engines like that to pull the Express or any job for that matter!" The man glared icily at Gordon, who was looking down, not with shame like other how engines would, but with a wrath he wished not to display to STH. He had been silent since both James and Edward escorted the big engine away to a secluded location where no engine will interrupt him during his punishment. The two were still present. Gordon was in a shed far away from most jobs and other sheds, it was unknown that such a location existed until now. "You left me no choice but to lock you up in here, just like last time you misbehaved. I won't let you out until this aggression of yours has completely gone!"
With that, Gordon heard the locks and chains outside rattle as the workmen sealed the doors. The wrath he held in was deadly poison, it needed to be cured. As soon as he heard the footsteps becoming more distant, his inner demon was freed. With the remaining flames in his firebox, Gordon rammed against the boarded but shaking gates and unleashed cursed roars that were heard outside. He howled as if some devil had possessed him, sent personally by the king down below to bestow all of Hell upon this wretched, cruel world. Like a tiger wrongfully imprisoned in a cage, animosity was directed to those who still were still watching his flare-up. Engines who ever heard his enraged screams nearby already know that the dragon who was banished was none other than Gordon…
Gordon soon became tired, his fire ran out. He pondered over those memories, replaying them in his mind like a film he never wants to watch but watches anyway. In the shed that was now his prison, he cried as he realised that the world had let him have his deadly sin of pride, that it took something precious in return away from him. The world gives, then it takes. Now he knows what Hiro meant but it was too late… The world has punished him for his sinful pride and this was the price he had to pay...
Drifting farther away, little wish upon the waves,
With eyes full of tears, he regrets those days,
It is then that he realises this:
His sin has taken everything away,
For days, he remained deadly silent in response whenever STH checked on him whether the anguish had disappeared. STH simply thought that he needed more time to expel his frustration. This continued until he finally gave a reply.
Weeks had passed on Sodor until the imprisoned dragon was finally awoken and willingly came out from the dark abyss that he was banished to. Gordon felt sunlight, the warmth radiating from above upon his body. It had been so long since he last felt it.
"Since you have finally calmed down, I will let you out. From now on, you must behave, otherwise you won't be pulling the Express. Is that clear?" STH still remembered the tantrum on the first day that Gordon was locked up, perhaps the engine could think more clearly now then before. STH wasn't a monster, he understood how the death of a close friend can impact one's sanity, but still, he had a railway to run. "Yes sir."The no.4 replied in a monotone voice, far calmer than the last time he heard him say anything. Deep inside, Gordon still had resentment residing in his soul but 'learnt' his lesson anyway. But the world's punishment was far from done.
Even with Gordon returning to the railway society, no one ever spoke to him. When Percy found him at Knapford stations, word soon spread of the exiled engine's return. On such a small island, it's easy to see how fast gossip and travel among the locomotive network. His 'fellow' engines were always silent when the latter was present. They never dared to look him in the eye. There was no need to lock him up to isolate him. Not even the cheekiest twins, Bill and Ben nor his smug cousin Spencer spoke a word. Even at nights at Tidmouth sheds were like this. The engines (namely Edward, James, Thomas, Percy and Emily) would chat cheerfully about their day, until Gordon arrives from his job. Awkward silence would replace the chatter, Gordon didn't bother to reconnect with them. Instead, he immediately backs into his shed where he could hear inaudible whispers from outside.
Gordon couldn't be bothered to talk with them, who knows what goes through their minds when he's around. If he was to repent like this, he would accept it.
Silence and gloom followed Gordon like a dark storm cloud, as if the Grim Reaper was standing by his side, seeking the next soul to hunt down..
But even this grand, feared figure of death didn't scare the diesels that the steam engines had despised so much.
The Express Engine was loaded onto coal cars when the steam-hating Diesel purred in with his usual devious, smug grin plastered on his face. "Well, well, well, if it isn't you again, stupid steamie." "Diesel! It's not very nice to call someone that." tattled a worried Paxton. It only motivated the latter to continue. "Isn't it? Afterall, he can't tell the difference between a living engine and a dead heap of scrap metal." Gordon kept his nonchalant behaviour, undisturbed. Diesel expected an offended retort as well as the others present at the Docks, alas, he wanted to press on further. "You should've been there Paxton, he was bawling out tears. Dignity? Forget it! He's lost all of that!" Arry and Bert arrived, hearing Diesel's taunts and joined in. "He's right you know!" "Crying like a wimpy engine, never thought I would see the day." The blue tender engine surprisingly remained silent and still, even their crude laughter didn't conjure up any annoyance in him. Wanting to see how far Gordon's 'vow of silence' can be pushed, Diesel made a dangerous move.
"To be honest, if there's any other engine who could be more dumber, it's got to be Henry," What made Gordon notice was the name that he hasn't heard in what felt to be an eternity, "I mean, he's the one who fell of the bridge and into the sea. How foolish can he get?" "I thought he was afraid of water, wasn't he Bert?" "Pretty sure he was, Arry."
'It was rain that he used to be afraid of, not water.'
"Henry was bound to be scrapped anyway, maybe if STH didn't waste his money on sending him to Crewe when he could've used it to buy another diesel engine. He could've been put out of misery faster, being the poor steamer he was."
'Saying this about him whilst bragging about your class, really takes the biscuit.'
"It's just like what they say; Once an engine attached to a train,"
'You know what, I'm beginning to hate that stupid song and you.'
"Was afraid of a drop of rain-"
The sound of metal colliding filled the air, leaving Diesel shocked as pain followed, coursing through his body. All eyes were on Gordon, fearing that he has indeed lost all of his sanity afterall. To engines, the mere noise of his wheels turning ever so slowly in dead silence was equivalent to a sharp blade dragging across a surface, prepared to be drenched in blood. Trapped in a siding, Diesel was beginning to cower in Gordon's shadow as it approaches him. He became the first to look into the Express engine's eyes, strangely emotionless with a murderous glimmer as if Gordon were to strike Diesel down on a spot, as if he was the Grim Reaper himself, as if Diesel was staring right into the face of death.
"If you knew, you would've kept your mouth shut," Gordon murmured but everyone could still hear him, for it was the first time they had heard him speak in forever, "If you knew, you wouldn't disrespect him. If you knew, you would feel sorrow for the first time in your pathetic, little life," He chanted in a trance-like state, till he was facing the diesel engine who was fearing for his life. Gordon began to bash him, the protests from his own crew were inaudible to him. "Henry was more stronger than what you can ever be! He was stronger than anyone else!" The image of Henry on that bridge was burned into his memory, Gordon felt everyone had to know the truth. "He was strong to face death itself!" Gordon's temptation to confess took its toll. "If Henry didn't do it, there would've been two engines to be scrapped at the Smelters Yard. I could've died with him." It brought every engines' attention, listening closely to his words. "Because of him, I'm still alive… because he sacrificed himself… for me... "
His words started to tremble. "It was all my fault we were on that bridge that day… It was my fault he was on that bridge with me… It was my fault he fell off…" Gordon gradually stopped attacking Diesel who was battered from Gordon's rage. "It's my fault Henry's dead… because of me, Henry's dead…" The latter stormed off, leaving shocked engines and workers to deal with the aftermath of Gordon's confession.
STH was told about the situation, confronting Gordon who was in Henry's Forest. The name alone kept Henry alive in his 'heart'.
"Gordon, it's alright that you miss him. I do too, he was a very useful engine and a good friend," STH said to the mourning engine, "But it can't be undone Gordon. We all have to accept and hope for the best in the future."
'It can't be undone' Gordon had that phrase replaying over and over. STH didn't see him working the next day, Gordon was at his shed all day. His driver was concerned, not only he had a paycheck to work for but that was the least of his worries.
Gordon was never the same as he used to be; a prideful, bold express engine. Now, he was only a steam engine, ever so still and so quiet, with no will to do anything. He never had the mood to even pull the Express.
'All I wish is that it could be undone, that Henry could be chuffing by my side again, that I could turn back time just to restart all over again. I wish…' His train of thought came to a halt. A familiar voice spoke in his memory.
'If you write a wish on a paper into a glass bottle and give it to the sea, it's bound to come true. And it did."
The answer finally came. One little wish could help Gordon to say sorry for everything. At last, he regained the will to do one little job.
STH allowed it, his driver took a clean glass bottle and a parchment of paper with Gordon's wish written in ink before heading to their destination.
Gordon returned to reality, watching his driver slowly and in respect, passed down the glass bottle that guards Gordon's wish to the waves of the sea. The memory playing as a finale was Henry singing the same beautiful but sad melody that day, his voice as calm as the echoes of the ocean. Gordon mouthed the lyrics as he finally remembered the song.
'Drifting farther away, riding swiftly on the waves,
A message containing a wish was made,
Heading steadily toward the horizon,
And gradually fading away,'
The memories of him began to overflow. After so many weeks of hesitation, grieving and guilt, those horrid emotions were finally released in the bottle of glass. Gordon allowed the tears that he had been holding back to escape his eyes which were still focused on the bottle, bobbing along the waters as it journeys to the unknown, to join the very glass vessel he witnessed Henry sending to the vast ocean right in front of him.
'If I cry, I have no shame… I will cry with dignity.'
Gordon had lifted the weight of his regrets and sins at last, as if he was finally forgiven by the world and by Henry himself.
Drifting farther away, little wish upon the waves,
With eyes full of tears, he regrets those days,
The blur in his eyes stopped as the sunset devoured the bottle from sight. Gordon memorised his desire that was written down, word by word.
'Henry, my dear friend,
Please forgive my mistakes, you never deserved this fate that I had unwillingly forced you to. I now realise that my deadly sin of pride was the reason I was punished, my pride stole you away from me. I never knew about it until that day we were on that bridge.
No matter what comes, I can only hope that in the next life, that when we are both reborn from the ashes,'
If the day comes that we are reborn again...
'I wish that we can be friends again like before.
Until then,
Gordon, the engine of Sodor who wrote this message of regret.'
…
Epilogue:
It really hurts. That scrape on his right knee really hurts. Red blood began to escape from the little wound.
The five yr-old lad winced in pain, the bark on the earth prickling the other leg he was sitting on. He was disappointed in himself, his mother told him not to run in the forest where he could easily tripped. The young boy had obviously disobeyed, he'd always prefer running over walking.
Something bright blue had caught his eye, his small hand moved towards it. He was in distress. "It's broken…" Brushing off the dirt with his fingers, was a now broken toy train. The paintwork was merely scratched off, it still had it's blue paint and red stripes. What worried him most was a piece that was meant to resemble a miniature front wheel for the metal model had fallen off.
His father had bought it few months ago (the true reason was to replace a stuffed bear the lad used to carry around with him from a few years back but the man still enjoyed the excited smile on his son's face and the child didn't really mind at all). Still, he treasured the little steam engine like any other child and their favourite plaything.
His mother said that stubbornness seems to run on his father's side of the family and she wasn't wrong, the lad fumbled with the two parts in an attempt to fix it. Sadly, he did not succeed, the wheel didn't cooperate and soon, the boy became frustrated. His bright blue eyes began to swell with tears, some drops escaped and dripped onto the broken train in his hands. The pain from his wounded knee and the thought of both his parents scolding at him did not help at all.
The poor child was sobbing as quietly as he could, he didn't want anyone to notice, not that there was anyone around. Or that's what he thought.
"Are you okay?" Looking up, he saw another kid about his age, maybe few months younger, concern and worry were displayed in his emerald eyes. The boy only replied with silence while the other looked down as if he was trying to see what the problem was. "Oh, you're hurt," the blue-eyed boy had his attention to his knee, blood began to seep through the scrape by a bit. The other child began to search his pockets. "I'm sure I have a spare bandaid somewhere, I'm always tripping over stuff. Here it is." In his hand, a clean tissue and a new plaster in the other. As this mysterious child began to treat his knee out of kindness, the lad couldn't help but stare at him.
'Why does it feels like I met him before?'
Once the bandaid was placed carefully to cover the wound, the boy with spring-green eyes noticed the broken blue steam train that laid in his hands.
"Oh my, did you try fixing it?" "I couldn't do anything." "If you want, you can play with my one."
The brunette offered a similar toy train, save for the green paint instead of blue into his hands with the broken one. An image of an old friend flashed in his mind, one by one, memories began to return. From the first day on Sodor to the aftermath of the sacrifice that old friend made. More tears escaped his eyes, blurring the blue irises in them.
"Eh?! Please don't cry." Suddenly, the green eyed boy leaned over to hug the crying lad. "Hugs always make me feel better." In his sweet voice, he began to hum a little song. And that song was far too familiar.
'Drifting farther away, riding swiftly on the waves,
A message containing a wish was made,
Heading steadily toward the horizon,
And gradually fading away...'
'Could it be?' And with that, he remembered the final moments of his previous life.
The express engine on this island was derailed in an accident a decade ago. The boy used to be that engine before he was born.
Most feared death, earlier the latter despised it and blamed it from taking his friend away. But at this moment, he greeted death as if it were an old friend. Death was merciful in return, swept over the engine into a painless bliss like eternal sleep.
He only wandered in the afterlife for a bit, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He gave chase to a figure that evaporated in a heavenly light. There was hesitation at first, but he passed through it anyway. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? He knew for certain that it was him.
"Henry?" He mumbled, causing the child stranger to pull away. "How did you know my name? Oh, silly me. My name tag's right here. I forgot to take it off yesterday." He clearly pointed out a laminated tag with his name on it pinned to his vest. "What's your name by the way?"
Was it ironic how they both kept their names from their previous lives?
"Gordon." He replied with trite, wiping away the tears. 'Henry' gave a warm smile, "That's a nice name. I feel like I've seen you before… Never mind, there were too many kids on the first day on school for me to remember."
'So he doesn't really remember me, does he? It doesn't matter I suppose…'
"Well, would you like to be friends? I know a shortcut back to the park."
"Sure, I would like that."
As his 'new' friend held him by the hand as they walked out, Gordon couldn't express his gratitude enough, these were the only words he could say to whoever brought this miracle to reality.
'Thank you'
Wishes can come true, he knows because his wish did.