Chapter 8 - Halp Plz.

AN: Okay, so I know that my last two chapters haven't been the best. I hope this one can be a bit better, but the plot will be getting even deeper in the oncoming chapters. Also, there's a cliffhanger in this chapter, so there's that. Oh, and last night I had the idea to write a story about "The Adventure Begins" where each chapter tells the story from a different engine's viewpoint. Should I write it?

Important: Okay, I haven't had any reviews lately, and I'd never complain about more interest in this story, so here's an idea. Only a few empathizers have been named. There are three or four that are major characters in later chapters, maybe a few more, but that still leaves a lot. So I want you, readers, to suggest empathizers to me. Pick an engine, and tell me what you think their empathizer would be like. I'll try to include as many as I can. And you can suggest engines to do the disclaimer, too! Thanks!

Disclaimer: "Okay Toby, it's your turn."

"Hm? Oh, thank you. Say, do you think I'll get an empathizer soon? Anyway - Hazel doesn't own us. Instead, she's writing about us to help find more empathizers for us! Right?"

"Yep! Thanks, Toby!"


We eased gently to a stop, trucks chattering behind us. The train was uncoupled and we moved slowly around to a siding. I fiddled with the controls a bit after we stopped, then left the fire to burn as I hopped from the cab. Walking carefully along Henry's running board, I spoke up.

"There now, that run's over. How do you feel now?" I gave him a concerned look.

"I couldn't steam quite as well as usual, did you notice? My tubes probably are a little bit blocked, I feel stuffed up - a bit worse than before," he gave a sniffle, then smiled. "But other than that, I feel right as rain! Well, ah…" We laughed at the irony.

He had complained before that his tubes felt partially blocked - which meant the airflow to his fire suffered, and he couldn't get up quite enough steam as usual. Henry was a bit of a hypochondriac, worrying over every ache or creaking part that needed oiling, but this was nothing to be trifled with. Ted and Robert had told me that he'd been worried about it for a few days now, and asked if I could tell Sir Topham Hatt if nothing got better, which I reminded him of now.

"Your crew said I should tell the Fat Controller after this run if you still felt ill, remember."

"Oh, yes, I suppose so. I don't really want to worry him - but what if it gets worse? It shouldn't be too much trouble to get my firebox cleaned out and inspected. I don't have another train for five…ah…five hours, and I…Ah-aaschoo! Oh…sorry about that," Henry smiled sheepishly.

I had taken a quick step back to keep from getting any more coal dust on my clothes. I always thought it was funny, that engines could sneeze at all. Of course, it was more likely when a crew wasn't careful enough and let soot and ash build up. All of Henry's serious health problems had been fixed when he was rebuilt, but he had always had a sensitive nose, I was told.

"It's alright, Henry - and bless you. Did that clear out some of the ash?" I cracked a smile.

He sniffed experimentally. "A little, but my tubes are still a bit blocked. And now my nose itches," he wrinkled his nose in frustration. "I feel worse all of a sudden, actually."

"Aw, I'm sorry…I'll go talk to the Fat Controller now, if you'd like. Hopefully we can get it sorted out soon, Hen."

Hopping down from the Black Five's running board, I jogged off in the direction of the station platforms.

When I reached Sir Topham Hatt's office, the door was locked and the lights were out. A sign was on the door saying "will be back at 1:00." Puzzled, I wondered where he was. I was supposed to tell him before we went to the works - or was I? Ted and Robert had only said that I had to mention it to him, not that I needed his permission…

But why wouldn't I need his permission? He was the railway's controller, and I should notify him unless it was an emergency, right?

But…I couldn't notify him now, and he'd want the railway to keep running as smoothly as possible. That couldn't happen if one of his engines was at less than his best. We would have time to go to the works and do a quick firebox cleaning, as long as there wasn't anyone else there to take up time.

I still stood on the platform outside the office, unsure. The platform was empty and the yards were nearly deserted for now in a rare moment of quiet.

"Ha-esschoo!" Speaking of quiet, there it goes. Henry sneezed again, the sound drifting across the yard to where I stood, followed by a series of ragged coughs. "That's it," I thought. I made up my mind and set off back towards my engine.

"That cough of yours doesn't sound too good, is everything alright?" I asked as I drew closer.

"I think it's getting worse, since there's less airflow to move the ashes now. But I don't feel that bad, it's probably like what you'd call a cold, and it's easily mended. Besides, I've felt worse," Henry laughed, grinning grimly.

"Aw, are you sure? You sound more stuffed up now, too, y'know. The office was empty, but I can't just let you take your next train feeling badly. Let's go get you feeling better!" I climbed back into his cab.

"Are you sure? No one was there - should we go?" Henry asked, unsure.

"Well, I see it like this: you can't be really useful if you aren't feeling well, right? I'll just tell him when we get back!"

Henry still seemed unsure, but then he began coughing again. "Alright, let's go get this fixed," he agreed quickly.

The journey to the steam works was slow and somewhat tedious. I drove carefully, trying to be as smooth as possible and to let Henry take it easy. The extra airflow seemed to help a little, but it was hard to tell since more steam was needed, which made him feel worse.

Every mile or two he would begin coughing again, but he kept pushing on. "Did I ever tell you about the Super Rescue? I've pulled a train with my regulator jammed - and pulled two diesels along too! This is nothing!" He assured me (and then promptly fell into a sneezing fit, the dork.)

When we finally reached the steam works, I was more worried than ever - Henry had assured me that he would be alright, but I was also worried about getting us in trouble. What if I hadn't made the right decision.

Henry's fire was put out and his firebox cleaned. One of the workers shouted from the cab, "Yep, his tubes have quite a bit of ash, it's a wonder he doesn't feel worse! Don't worry, I'll get this fixed in a flash!"

I checked my watch anxiously.

Although it felt like much longer, the work was finished quickly. "Just a quick bit of maintenance, nobody's fault," I was assured.

We left the works in far better spirits than when we had arrived. I was still nervous, but happy to have Henry feeling himself again.

Clearly he was happy, too. He took a deep breath of fresh air as we started again, smiling. I spent the whole journey trying to hold him back, but he was excited and feeling the best he had felt in days.

We returned to the yards just in time. As we eased to a stop at the platform, Henry's cheeks flushed pink from the fast run, Thomas (with Jasmine in the cab) shunted a train of coaches behind us.

Ted and Robert were waiting on the platform, still empty except for a handful of early passengers.

"Did you get your firebox cleaned, old boy?" Robert asked as he and Ted climbed into the cab.

"Oh, yes, I feel much better!" Henry smiled happily. Ted and Robert began checking gauges and stoking the fire, still much more experienced than I was. I stepped down onto the platform and watched. More passengers began to crowd into the area and then board the train.

As Henry blew his whistle and began to move off, I waved to him and his crew. Now standing alone on the empty platform, I remembered that I had to tell Sir Topham Hatt about my decision to take Henry to the works. I knocked on the office door, so deep in thought that I didn't hear the voices inside.

"Oh, come in, Hazel! You had something to say about Henry, did you? Come in, meet the newest empathizer!"

As the door opened fully, all thoughts of the steam works left my mind. The empathizer turned to face me.

Help please.