'Easy there, little Meredith— you don't want to get caught up in something you can't handle.'

Those words rang in Flying Scotsman's head as he powered towards Gordon's shed. He hardly noticed the rain stinging his eyes; all he could focus on were those cursed words.

When he muttered them to a wide-eyed and naive Meredith all that was on his mind was what her sweet voice would sound like moaning his name. Scotsman cringed. He knew it was mere coincidental foreshadowing but tremendous guilt flooded his boiler. Did his subconscious know of the fate that would befall her if she became mixed up with him? He was only trying to tantalize her and somehow unwittingly provided an ominous warning. Was it for her or for him?

At the time Flying Scotsman didn't want a relationship with Meredith. He didn't want to love her. But the moment their lips met he knew he was in trouble, and now she's missing, possibly dead or dying alone in a raging storm— caught in the crossfire of a decades long feud.

As he approached Gordon's shed the stall was shuttered. He paused for only a moment before ramming the doors open, startling his snoring brother awake.

"What the hell are you playing at?!" Gordon howled, his face grew red as his boiler bubbles suddenly to life.

Scotsman stared at his seething brother. He didn't know what to say or where to start. He wasn't sure whether to completely lay into him or try to maintain his decorum. He took a deep breath. "Do you still love Meredith?"

Gordon's expression eased, but not by much. He made sure to keep his emotional walls up. "Why would you ask me that?"

"It's a yes or no question you stubborn cock."

The blue A3 scowled. "I'm not going into this with yo—"

"Yes or no, Gordon!"

"…yes?" Gordon dropped his eyes for a brief moment before looking back at his younger brother. "Again, why do you ask?"

Flying Scotsman sighed again. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it. "I need your help. She's missing… I fear—"

"That she's dead?"

Another steadying breath out. "I need you to help me find her… if she's gone I just— I need my brother."

Gordon relaxed, thunder rolled above them. He felt dizzy from the sudden shift of his brother's view of him and he wasn't entirely sure how to feel. "I recall you denouncing me this afternoon."

"Because I'm tired of you acting a complete ass to Meredith!" Scotsman spit. "But I realize now it's because you still have deep feelings for her. You can no longer love her so you decided to hate her— am I correct?"

Gordon looked away. His boiler rumbled nervously. "So you expect me to suddenly act as your security blanket after all you've done to me?"

"Gordon, please, you can't keep vilifying me." Scotsman was desperate. The more time passed the less likely it was they would find Meredith. "Please, help me."

Gordon looked back to his brother. His expression was hard, but his eyes were glassed over. The former Sudrian engine had never seen his younger brother struggle to fight tears. He stiffened his jaw. After everything Scotsman had done, Gordon still found himself at the mercy of his deeply-rooted love for his brother.

Bittern creeped along a branch line that ran through Nottingham. He scanned the neighborhoods and woods for anything that may resemble a lost tank engine. The urgency of the situation was not lost on him. He was all too familiar with Mallard's homicidal tendencies. He knew that little engine was in grave danger— assuming she was even still alive.

The blue A4 continued to dip between tracks and pilfer through empty stations. He checked roadblocks, crossings, sidings, overgrown tracks, the works. But came up empty handed after each stop.

Bittern felt himself becoming increasingly frustrated. He stopped just outside the turnoff to Manchester and simply sat in annoyed silence. He managed to land in a spot of the storm where the rain had stalled which eased his irritation, but only slightly. He stared down the track ahead. He wondered if he should continue to Doncaster or take the branch line to Liverpool.

The A4 started suddenly at the sound of pistons approaching him from behind. He looked to his right as another engine pulled to a stop beside him. "Meredith?"

Her big eyes looked slowly up at him. They were puffy, her cheeks were soaked but not from the rain. "I can't find my crew… I— I looked for them all day, but…" she trailed off. She was exhausted and out of breath. She had expended so much energy running the entire length of England at least twice.

"Your crew? You disappeared and had us— well, everyone else worried sick?" Bittern scolded her. He was rightfully pissed. She could have asked for help or simply gone to the controller, but instead she runs off? Typical. Little engines could be so impulsive. "Flying Scotsman thinks you're dead! Everyone assumed Mallard somehow got ahold of you."

Meredith remained silent. She felt embarrassed, but the worry quickly returned to the forefront of her emotions. She looked up at the dark, cloud-covered sky. The rain had started back up once again, though somewhat lighter than before. "I went by their house. The front door was broken and there was red paint splattered all over the ground. I tried to look inside but I couldn't see anything. No one was there."

"It was blood."

"What?"

"Blood," Bittern repeated. He wasn't aware of Meredith's young age, but it also wasn't unusual for an engine to not understand the biological makings of a human. "That 'red paint'— it was blood. What humans leak when they're hurt. Kind of like our oil."

Meredith's boiler ran ice-cold. Someone attacked her crew and took them. She couldn't find the words to say, she sat and felt herself slowly drooping on her axles. Of course she blamed herself. It didn't take a genius to see that their assault and abduction had something to do with her.

Bittern furrowed his brow. "Hey," he reached over and straightened Meredith up. "Don't you start wallowing in pity. Toughen up and let's look for them."

Meredith stared at Bittern. She didn't like how he was holding her, it reminded her of Mallard, but she could see behind that firm scowl he cared. She pulled herself from his buffer then rolled her body. Being pulled at such an awkward angle did good to strain an engine's limited suspension. "You're gonna help me?"

"Well my brothers already had me out here looking for you and it's too late in the night for me to get any sleep so I might as well make myself useful."

"Hm," Meredith hummed. She started up towards Doncaster. The rain had all but washed away her tears. There was no time to cry anymore.

Meredith had followed Bittern all the way to Newcastle. The storm picked up once again and the two were nearly blinded by the downpour. Not even their lanterns could breakthrough the near solid wall of water. They decided to stop and take shelter in an overgrown siding. There were two tracks but they were tight together and Meredith ended up wedged against Bittern. He managed to remain completely stoic but Meredith's face was burning up. She didn't know this engine and was suddenly forced to become more familiar than she would like.

Bittern sat still. He could feel Meredith's unease despite not being able to see her face. He looked up at the interlocking branches above them. They did well to help buffer the deluge, but still rain broke through. He shifted his weight, he seriously hated how the rusted track felt on his freshly ground wheels. Gross and gritty and the rain did nothing to wash it away. If anything it made the texture worse. The feeling made Bittern's teeth tingle. "Damn this rain." He growled while licking his teeth. "If I ever get the opportunity to be leased to a desert I'm taking it and fucking running."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Meredith teased with a giggle.

Bittern rolled his eyes. "Oh please, I've overheard you and Scot fucking. Don't act like you're suddenly sensitive to coarse language."

Meredith bit her lip. Then she frowned. "How would you have heard that? His yard is private?"

"You two are pretty loud." Bittern smirked. He wished he could see the little engine. He just knew the color had disappeared from her body. He chuckled. "I had to stay in the spare shed beside his the night you were repainted. I just made sure to slip in and out when you two were… occupied." His smirk grew. "I have to say. I'm impressed with your longevity, dewdrop. I envy Scot for it certainly. My Isla was a great lay, but even a titter as persistent as she couldn't keep up all night— as desperately as I wanted her to."

"Isla?" Meredith inched forward so she could look him somewhat in the eye.

Bittern shifted himself to allow Meredith more room to move. He cast a quick glance to the mainline ahead. The rain still made it impossible to see. "Yes, she no longer works this railroad, but she was one-of-kind. To me anyways. She was a little N2, similar to you— feisty, nice to everyone, extremely naive."

"Did you love her?"

There was a pause. Bittern's smirk faltered then he sighed. "As much as Flying Scotsman loves you."

"Do you miss her?"

"Every day."

"Where is she?"

"… I don't know."

Meredith stared at the curtain of rain ahead. She didn't mean to pry like that. She was simply surprised to meet an engine on the line who had a serious relationship. And it was Mallard's twin no less. "I'm sorry… I hope I didn't—-"

"It's okay." Bittern said, he smiled though Meredith couldn't see it. "It's nice talking about her. Helps bring her closer."

"Maybe you're not so bad." Meredith nudged his boiler.

"Don't push it, dewdrop. I'll flip you again."

The impossibly heavy rain persisted, Meredith and Bittern were all but trapped together. Meredith ended up falling asleep against Bittern's warmth, but the big engine remained awake. He knew he needed to keep watch, but he could feel himself wanting to succumb to the sweet relief of sleep.

Bittern purposely built up his pressure to bring warmth to his face. It helped wake him a little, but the soothing white noise of the rain made his body feel heavy. He nearly crumbled when he heard a whistle. He sat still, listening carefully, he heard it again and immediately recognized it was Flying Scotsman. Bittern laid on his own steam whistle so loud it startled Meredith awake and when she opened her eyes she saw Flying Scotsman pulling into the siding with… Gordon?

Scotsman's eyes locked onto Meredith and he didn't hesitate to yank her from beside Bittern before he scooped her up in a relieved kiss. "What happened? Where did you go?!" He sounded mad, but it was the type of mad that happens when one is faced with the overwhelming relief of finding someone alive whom they deemed to be dead. "I thought Mallard—"

"I think he has Hayden and Alex," Meredith glanced to Gordon who was shocked. "I was looking for them."

"She said at their house the door was bashed in and there was blood on the ground." Bittern added. He had just caught his second wind. "So it seems Mallard has humans on his side as well as engines."

"How pitiful, demanding such fragile creatures fight his battles." Scotsman scoffed. "I doubt he's killed them, at least not yet."

"It sounds like bait." Gordon said. Meredith watched her former lover with burning curiosity. Why was he suddenly on her side? "He knows how close you are with your crew."

"I wonder why." Scotsman hissed under his breath. Gordon heard him, however, but chose to ignore it.

"So what do we do? There's no way we can continue to traverse this storm." Said Bittern.

Meredith panicked, she pulled away from Scotsman when she saw his pondering expression. "You can't just leave them!" She cried. "They could die!"

"And if we don't think this through, so could you!"

All the engines went silent, Meredith lowered her gaze. She knew he was right, but still it upset her to think she would have to abandon her crew for another day.

Scotsman relaxed. "It's settled then. Let's all sleep at the roundhouse at Kings Cross for the time being. It'll be best to not separate."

All engines quietly agreed before backing out into the rain and setting off back towards London. Meredith had coupled herself to the back of Flying Scotsman so she could keep up with the speedy group and Gordon took up the rear. It felt strange having him so close to her again and she still didn't know why he was there, but she was too exhausted to try and ask and with the storm seeming to worsen by the second, it wasn't exactly the most ideal time.

As the group approached London they came across Kestrel and Quicksilver both comforted when they saw Meredith behind Scotsman. The lead A3 quickly brought the two remaining brothers up to speed as they flanked him on either side and as they all approached the engine yard at London they were shocked to find the only engine there was Ada who was fast asleep. Allan and Arik as well as a couple other larger tender engines were gone. The sight of a near empty engine yard was eerie. It didn't sit well with any of those approaching it.

Gordon went first, securing his spot beside his new fling. He was quick to fall asleep as all the other engines settled in one-by-one. Meredith was placed between Flying Scotsman and Quicksilver. The latter beside Bittern with Kestrel on the other side of him.

Meredith passed out quickly which left the larger engines awake as they all partook in simple gossip. Eventually they discussed the plans for finding Meredith's crew. Their trains would have to be canceled. They knew there was no way they'd risk waiting longer than necessary.

Morning broke and the storm had finally passed. Meredith was the first to wake. She was more than exhausted. It felt as if she was there in the berth physically but mentally she was miles away. As soon as her eyes opened to the growing sunlight her mind was screaming. She needed to know what happened to her crew. Who would be so cruel as to hurt humans who had nothing to do with the railway's hierarchy? Mallard, of course, but she knew it couldn't have been him directly.

The little tank engine looked around. She was surrounded by literal tons of strength. The safest she could be, but she didn't want to sit and cower like a frightened child. She had to find Hayden and Alex.

Flying Scotsman stirred in his sleep, never opening his eyes, but she knew once he started moving it was only a matter of time before he woke.

Scotsman blinked. The sun had just revealed itself over the distant treeline and the sky looked as if it had been reborn of the purest blues and yellows. He yawned, exhaling a good amount of steam as he rolled lazily from his berth.

Gordon had just woken up alongside his brother and the two exchanged a quick nod hello.

"Where's Meredith?"

Flying Scotsman's gaze shot to a startled Quicksilver then to the unexpectedly empty berth between them. His cheeks ran hot with anger as he laid on his whistle, waking the rest of the engines. He then started up with a furious huff of steam, cursing inwardly. If she makes it out of this alive I'm putting her on a fucking lead.

Ah, building tension I am. Heh heh. Tis my favorite thing to do and write. Just a nice buildup for the final climax and descent. Exciting, I know. Lol.

Pretty Katydid; so I totally get having reservations towards soft, husbandly Flying Scotsman; I was hesitant to write him like that myself, but I do plan to throw in some struggles and monkey-wrenches. Your favorite Tom-cat isn't done just yet. Hehe.

Also Bittern's personality is actually based around my husband's. A little rough around the edges with very colorful language, but when he loves he loves hard and with everything he's got. I was originally planning to make him a complete brute like Mallard but I felt there was enough total evil in this series for now so instead I went with the moderately soft boy trope. He's a lot of bark with moderate bite. Quicksilver is for sure the nicest of 'my' A4's, however. Unless you happen to piss him or Scot or Mer off then he becomes an engine's worst nightmare. I do love that about him. He's just versatile like that.

I plan to expand on Bittern and Kestrel's 'rivalry' more in their prequel I'm working on but yeah. Some shit happened and they just hate each other for it. Mainly Kestrel hates Bittern and Bittern just eggs his brother on. That sort of thing.

Also I feel like I need to apologize again for my in-depth explanation of their anatomy. But it was actually making me crazy thinking about it. I just can't. I've seen the fanart of similar haunting setups and it just *shudders*. I can't. I just couldn't imagine someone thinking of my babies with such monstrosities. Absolutely not. Just cuz it has a dick doesn't mean it resembles a human dick, okay?? Okay. Thank you.

Well I think that's enough from me. I gotta return to my hoard. I'm hiding out in the bathroom typing this post script up while my exhausted husband handles the toddler. :D

Much love;

Bumble

P.S. my friends and coworkers know how much I love TTTE and just trains and engines in general but I refuse to let them even know I'm writing this. They will forever ride my ass about it and I just can't considering I work long-ass shifts with these people. Nope. No way.