Lightning cracked outside illuminating the stormy night sky above the mainland. Hayden was propped up on pillows in his bedroom reading over Meredith's timetable for her new passenger train. He was shirtless, covered with a plush duvet from the waist down, his form and the paper cast in the comfortable light of his bedside lantern. The overall space was cozy and warm. A wooden vanity sat at the foot of the bed with a reading chair placed beside the room's singular window that was piled with mismatched pillows and a knitted blanket or two.
Another door inside the bedroom creaked open, grabbing Hayden's attention. He peeked up to see Alex coming out of the bathroom in only pajama pants after having just showered, still rubbing his hair dry with a towel.
Meredith's fireman stopped, glancing out the window on the other side of the bed. Heavy rain tapped the glass as thunder continued to rumble above. "I swear I am so sick of all this damn rain."
"Welcome to England." Hayden said, returning his attention to the schedule. The next day was supposed to be Meredith's time trial for the train and the schedule had already been allotted for six hour journeys. He worried about Meredith being able to keep such times. She wasn't the slowest engine, but she certainly wasn't the fastest.
Alex fiddled with his hair in the vanity mirror, inspecting his jawline for any blemishes he may need to correct. In the reflection he looked at Hayden's collection of locomotive textbooks and handwritten journals that piled his nightstand. Then he saw his partner, reading over a timetable. "You know there's more to life than steam engines, right?"
Hayden folded the schedule and set it atop his pile of books. "Of course I do."
"Then could you focus on something else?" Alex's tone strained to keep calm, but the issue had been bubbling up ever since they moved in together. He knew Hayden was passionate, but the subject seemed to be all he was concerned with. Hayden hardly did anything other than read his books or scrawl in his journals. It frustrated Alex more than it likely should have.
Rain continued to pound against the roof, making it impossible to hear anything else outside. Alex held Hayden's stare through the mirror. He hated to pick fights, but it felt necessary. "I just wish you'd—"
A loud bang from the front of the house halted Alex's confession. Both he and Hayden watched the shut door to their bedroom. Hayden leaning forward from his spot on the bed. "Probably a branch, right?"
Alex kept quiet. He creeped towards his nightstand, careful to not step on any loose floorboards. He opened the drawer then pulled out a revolver from under a stack of magazines.
Hayden climbed out of the bed as Alex walked towards the door. He kept his voice low. "What're you doing?"
"I'm just going to see what it is," Alex checked that the cylinder contained rounds before he eased the bedroom door open.
The hallway towards the main sitting room was dark. Distant lightning would offer a brief moment of visibility as Alex stepped lightly down the hall, his finger hovered above the trigger. He moved with slow ease, as if he had been in a similar situation prior to that moment. He was careful to not accidentally shoulder the pictures that hung from the wall as he rounded the corner into the sitting room.
Alex looked around, the air eerily still, his finger tightening on the trigger as he reached up to switch on the light. Then with the speed of a lightning bolt crackling across the sky, Alex was knocked clear to the ground with a deafening bang. His revolver flew from his grasp and into a picture of Hayden with Meredith taken the day she was released to his care. The glass shattered to the floor with the frame following suit, crashing to the floor and flinging the photo into a growing pool of blood.
Flying Scotsman sat bored at Edinburgh Waverley station. A grand-sized station that spanned across nineteen numbered platforms. Its stained-glass canopies rattled from the rain and winds above as passengers mingled about inside among its shops as if the storm wasn't even there. He couldn't help to hold back a wide yawn. Rainy weather did well to make the big engine sleepy.
"Well as I live and breathe!"
A perky Scottish dialect pulled Flying Scotsman from his dozed state. When he looked to the track beside him he locked up. It was Emma. A sweet as pie, bright-eyed, 2-6-2 V3 tank engine and one of Scotsman's many former bed-buddies. "H— hello, Emma, fancy seeing you here."
"Aye!" She grinned, revealing a slight gap-tooth. "I was beginnin' to wonder if you've gone and forgot about me."
"Ah-hah, well I've been rather busy, I'll admit." It was a bit of a lie. Scot hated to admit that he was avoiding the little black engine. She was a rebound after Meredith first ghosted him and while she was quite fun in the berth, she proved to be a tad clingy. She wanted love when Scotsman merely wanted sex. Does she know about me and Meredith? He thought.
Emma shrugged his little lie off. She was as ditzy and gullible as she was adorable; the fact Flying Scotsman was uncomfortable was completely lost on her. "Too busy for your fave? I'm a bit hurt, I'll admit."
Well that answered his question.
Scotsman forced a laugh. "Yes, well, I'm sorry to sa—"
"Perhaps you'd like a little reminder as to why I'm the favorite?" Emma bat her eyes. "You've got time and there's a nice long, goods shed just a few miles out. Maybe you can rough me up a bit, hm?"
Flying Scotsman hem-hawed awkwardly. It felt completely against his nature to reject a prospective fuck, but he didn't want to fan the flames of Emma's burning obsession with him, that and obviously he had no intention of cheating on Meredith. Especially not after the grand gesture of her being repainted to match him. That change confirmed Meredith was more than just a fling, she was his partner and he needed to honor it.
"Scotty?"
Scotsman groaned. He hated Scotty even more than Scot. "Yes?"
"You've never taken so long to decide." Emma said with an awkward half-smile. The massive station had begun to fill with more noise between the sea of conversations and the downpour above. Emma felt herself growing nervous not only from all the sound around her, but from Flying Scotsman's silence.
Scot sighed. "Look, Emma, I—"
"Am I not attractive to you anymore? Is that it?" She pressed, quickly going from inquiring to desperate.
"No, it's not that, it's—"
"It's Ellis isn't it, you know she doesn't own yo—"
"I have a wife now, Emelia!" Flying Scotsman snapped suddenly, startling a few passengers waiting on a nearby bench.
Emma was speechless. Firstly, he had never referred to her by her proper name. Secondly; she hadn't known of Flying Scotsman's moral shift towards loyalty. She just assumed he was still lying around since nothing seemed to hint at otherwise.
While Emma sat still in stunned silence, Flying Scotsman felt relief. He didn't know how to refer to Meredith; partner felt too vague while girlfriend was far too juvenile. Calling her his wife seemed to roll off the tongue and it left behind a sweet and tingly sensation. There may have been no legal binding, no ceremony, no rings. Only the unspoken trust and commitment between the two, but regardless of all that it simply felt right.
Scot could feel Emma's eyes still on him. He breathed out through his nose. "I'm sorry. I'm flattered— truly, but I just can't."
"Oh— yeah, course." Emma's face flushed. She was extremely embarrassed, but how could she have known? "I'll be honest, I never pegged you as the type to settle down."
Scotsman chuckled. "Me either…"
"She must be special."
"She is."
Emma departed the station and into the rain without another word to Flying Scotsman. He felt strange watching her go, like he had finally shut the door to his old life.
He took a deep breath in. No turning back.
"Kestrel! I see you're still prancing about in that ghastly British Railway green."
The A4 in question cursed under his breath. A colorful phrase that included 'motherfucker' and 'spoiled brat' as he averted his eyes from the adjacent track where Bittern had backed in.
"Oh, so you're not even going to offer up a hello?" Bittern smirked which only served to fuel Kestrel's own annoyance.
"Suck a cock." He grumbled.
Bittern purred, completely unfazed by his brother's hostility. "I'd love to."
Kestrel rolled his eyes. What a slut.
At that moment Quicksilver arrived as the storm continued to rage outside the shelter of the station. The silver brute sputtered and spat excess water that had snuck its way past his lips on the journey back to the station. "Bloody hell," he growled.
Bittern snorted and Kestrel did his best to not laugh along with him. His disdain for Bittern was palpable and it made anyone in the vicinity of the two immensely uncomfortable. Aside from Quicksilver who was for the most part indifferent to the quarrels of two salty siblings. He merely sat on the sidelines while his young brothers duked it out, essentially remaining on standby should things turn too ugly.
A good hour had passed since Quicksilver's arrival to the terminal. Kestrel and Bittern continued their bitching and name-calling while Flying Scotsman's lieutenant stood silent. He scanned the station as the crowds began to thin. That day's trains were called back early due to the worsening of the storms; Flying Scotsman would be back soon, but something seemed off. Something was missing. "Meredith…" he whispered, whipping his attention to Kestrel and Bittern who were still barking at each other. "Hey! Either of you worthless pillocks seen Meredith today?"
The other A4's halted the 'conversation', exchanging a confused glance. "I've not seen her." Kestrel said, furrowing his brow.
"Nor have I." Bittern added, jutting his bottom lip out. "Unfortunately."
Kestrel looked back to Mallard's twin with a flat expression. "Don't even go there."
Bittern rolled his eyes, but didn't retort. He could see the worry written all over Quicksilver's face and while he wasn't completely up to speed on what was going on between his siblings and that little dewdrop, he knew it was serious. He began to wonder if whatever it was had something to do with his twin's disappearance. He didn't much care for Mallard, he thought his counterpart to be barbaric and vile so when Bittern heard the jackass had vanished he didn't bother to ask questions. He merely accepted it with a high degree of enthusiasm.
A loud whistle managed to break through the near constant rumble of thunder. The A4 brothers all turned their attention to the platform open beside Quicksilver where Flying Scotsman slid in with a shudder. "Whew, I suppose I won't need a wash down anytime soon." The great A3 said, shaking the water from his body. When he clicked his smoke deflectors back he noticed three sets of wide eyes watching him. "What?"
"Have you seem Meredith today, Scot?" Kestrel asked.
"Not since this morning." Scotsman said. He raised his brow. "What did she do now?"
Kestrel and Quicksilver looked at each other. Bittern, however, had become distracted by a stray dog that had wandered into the station to escape the rain and wasn't paying attention to the exchange happening beside him.
Scotsman's expression hardened as the silence grew. "What about Meredith?"
Quicksilver took a breath. "None of us have seen her."
Flying Scotsman after hearing those words was uncoupled from his train and darted towards his shed. The rain pelted his face, but he could see the light from his shed as he approached. He burst through the doors and his heart dropped. Empty.
Quicksilver pulled up behind, leaning around to try and see inside. "What's the plan?"
"Check everywhere. Every shunting yard from here to Edinburgh. Check every shed, every siding, every station. Nobody sleeps until she's found."
Quicksilver nodded then circled the yard before storming back towards London. Bittern and Kestrel had followed their older brother to the edge of Flying Scotsman's yard. On the way over to the shed, Kestrel gave Bittern a brief synopsis of events, including Mallard's attempt at killing Meredith. Bittern didn't know the little engine at all, but hearing what his twin did to her made his boiler bubble. It opened up a wound he worked for years to try and heal and he found himself suddenly feeling extremely invested in protecting the little engine.
Flying Scotsman stayed behind as the A4's all departed for separate lines. He stared blankly ahead at the empty tracks. A single lantern perched on a corner table struggled to light the space. Scot watched the flame flicker as it worked through the last of its oil. He wasn't sure what to feel. He was petrified. He wanted to find her but he feared the worst. Feared that this time was the final nail in her coffin.
Scotsman's throat tightened as he fought back tears. He didn't want to lose Meredith after just getting her back. "Goddammit…" He reversed back outside, clenching his jaw. He needed more help and he knew that meant he would have to swallow his pride and confront his brother one last time.
I'll be honest, I've got so much going on in my brain regarding this AU I'm losing my damn mind. Lol. It's such a pleasure to write this stuff out and I'm having a ton of fun falling down the LNER locomotive rabbit hole for future characters and true engine cameos. (I'm so so SO obsessed with the N2/N3's. They're so damn CUTE, but WOW, I didn't realize how big they were.)
It's pretty wild honestly how much of myself I'm dedicating to this. I'm even considering retuning and refining the first two 'books' to help the flow of my overall plot line make more sense but MAN, that's gonna take some time. Lol. All for stories that'll never be hard-copy books or anything like that, but I don't mind. As long as my writing brings a little bit of joy or sorrow or enjoyment to whoever reads it it feels like a success in my mind.
That being said is there anything y'all would want to see in future chapters/fics? I don't wanna drag this main storyline out too long, but I do have plans for spin-offs and even a prequel about a certain group of snarky streamlined boys. *wink wink*
I see this story going at least one more fic, maybe two more should the inspiration really nail me, but I don't wanna bog myself down thinking about that just yet. Lmao. I'm not the type to really 'plan' or 'outline'. I kinda just think of what I want to happen and just let it happen organically. Idk. It makes sense to me. Lol.
Anyway, that's enough from me. I know I sound like a broken record but I really do appreciate all the support and love y'all have given this series. It means the world to me knowing there's people that enjoy my crazy ideas and I hope I continue to provide the goods y'all enjoy.
Again, thank you for reading and don't forget to review! I love seeing what y'all have to say!
Much love;
Bumble