"GAH!"

Duncan tried to wake up; before he realised that he still couldn't see. He grunted; thankful he was at least conscious again.

….

After informing the Thin Controller of the predicament surrounding his eyes, Mr. Percival had no choice but to send Duncan back to the Depot, where his crew applied bandages to his eyes to speed the healing process up.

Duncan just thought it wonderfully ironic that in order to retain his sight, his eyes had to be covered until they could be checked again

"...Duncan...?" A voice yawned next to him. "Are you alright?"

"Aye- noo get back to sleep!" Duncan hissed, hoping the voice would do just that.

But it didn't.

"Duncan, I know you're lying..."

Duncan could feel Rusty's eyes, giving him a sympathetic, kindly look; despite his current condition. "I... I jist got a fright." The Scottish engine answered bluntly, "Noo shut it!"

"Duncan, you can be rude to me all you like, but it wouldn't change the fact that I know something is bothering you." When he spoke next, the little diesel's was softer, "If you really don't want to talk about it- I won't force you. Just keep in mind I'm here to listen, okay?"

"... whatever." Duncan grunted.

However, deep down, he felt guilty for snapping at Rusty. He was often rude and blunt to Rusty; but may God strike down anyone who accused him for not caring about the little diesel. In fact, he had come to regard him as a brother- despite the fact they were of differing fuel types.

In addition, the pair worked quite well together, when they weren't arguing; Rusty's calm, logical nature and courage helped Duncan to show his better qualities, allowing them to glimmer like diamonds amidst his grumpy nature, and Duncan's resourcefulness and fiery, Scotch determination were invaluable helped Rusty whenever the little diesel ended up in a dire crisis.

….

As Duncan worked to get his breathing under control again, fragments of the nightmare stirred afresh in his memory, like leaves dancing in an autumnal waltz with the gales and zephyrs alike.

...

"My existence was a mistake!" Luke sobbed, his eyes burning in pain and hurt as he stood on the siding on the Upper Terrace where he had once nearly fallen off the cliff trying to evade the other engines and their questions; before he had eventually plucked up the courage to confide in them.

"Luke, please don't jump!" Yelled Skarloey, tears forming in his eyes, a horrified Rheneas by his side. "Please, just back away! There's another way out, Luke! We'll help you- whatever it takes for us to help you, we'll do it, and we'll do it together!"

"Luke, please!" Peter Sam begged, weeping. "You're part of my family! Our family! We'll help you fight this war, no matter how long it takes- but please do come down!"

Duncan could see Sir Handel, Rheneas and Rusty were shouting too- but he couldn't make out what they were saying; nor could he open his own mouth to yell. He was frozen to the spot in sheer, unadulterated terror.

All six engines watched on in horror as the little Irish tank engine reversed from the edge of the cliff; and then he suddenly sped forwards, his wheels leaving the tracks of the siding. He plummeted down, down, down… like a tragic figure from Greek mythology… before a sickening metallic scream rang round the yard.

It rang in Duncan's ears louder than any knoll, and he tried to scream, to yell, to curse; but his voice was trapped under an unseen and yet a very present lump in his smokebox.

The quarry was suddenly filled with silence… save for the sobs and wails of the six little engines who had just witnessed their friend take his own life so violently; and for them all to witness it too, was even more traumatising then they had ever expected…

….

Rusty was very worried when he saw tears painfully wriggle out from underneath the bandages covering Duncan's eyes. He could hear his best friend's sobs, slow and raspy; and his concern grew tenfold.

"Duncan, what happened? Did you have a nightmare?" He asked quietly.

"A-aye." Duncan muttered, stiffly in between the sobs he was now trying so hard to stifle.

"Would… would you like to talk about it?" Rusty offered. "Whatever it was about, you can tell me. I won't tell the others, unless you wish me to."

At this, the Scottish engine managed a small smile of gratitude to have such a faithful friend as Rusty. "Thanks, Rusty- you're a pal," He remarked, before going quiet again. Rusty said nothing; he just kept a curious, non-judgemental expression on his face.

Now feeling encouraged by his friend's kind smile, Duncan continued, "I dreamt... I dreamt that Luke was on the Upper Terrace, by himself. We- aye, you, me, and the other four; we were down on the Lower Terrace, below the runaway siding…"

"Duncan?"

"Luke killed himself." Duncan finally confessed, shuddering in horror at the wretched memory of Luke falling to the earth; before his metal corpse went up in flames.

He could hear Rusty's gasp of horror beside him.

"Oh Duncan..." the little diesel murmured in shock. "I... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry…"

"Ach, dinna… dinna fash yersel, mate," Duncan mumbled in a thick voice, and Rusty knew that his friend was crying again.

But what could he say?

Luke was going through a hard battle with suicidal thoughts, so he couldn't just say everything was alright. He knew Duncan wouldn't believe it to be alright, anyway.

He didn't want to trivialise it as just a dream, either; as they had left Luke with Owen and Merrick, although Skarloey was thinking of having an engine stay with Luke, like when he was feeling ill, to ensure Luke was well guarded and looked after; that way, it might be easier to safeguard against any attempts Luke made to take his own life; and hopefully keep their minds at ease in the process.

"Hey, Duncan?" He asked quietly, being mindful of the other engines still slumbering around them.

"Aye?" Sniffed Duncan.

"I asked Mr Bailey to withdraw Luke from his gelignite shunting, as his mindset makes it dangerous for him to shunt it- he could possibly use it to kill himself. So, I'll be going up to do it tomorrow instead-would you like to come with me? It means you'll have someone to head up to the quarry with you, and we can both check on Luke."

Duncan sniffed again, before saying, quietly, "Aye, I'll come wi' ye. Thanks, Rusty- like I said afore, you're a pal. I dinna ken whit I will do without ye."

"Hey, you're welcome, Duncan. Now get some sleep- you'll need it." Rusty advised good-naturedly.

"Pah! Like I didnae ken that!" Duncan retorted, making Rusty chuckle quietly. Now this was sounding more like Duncan.

"Goodnight, Duncan." He whispered tenderly. "I hope you sleep better this time around…"

"Ta. Night, Rusty." Duncan mumbled back, managing a small smile in return.

And with that, the two friends drifted off to sleep; unaware of what tragedy lay ahead...