27 - Like Iron
Truro sat nervously creaking, shifting his weight on his frames in an agitated manner. Beside him, Flying Scotsman sat silently, his face calm and still, his breathing slow and even.
It had been many years since Scotsman had joined him as part of the National Collection. He'd bounced from owner to owner until finally, at long last, the People's Engine had become the jewel in the crown of the National Railway Museum's collection.
Although people were against Scotsman and Truro being grouped together because of their volatile past, Richard Dover had taken a chance and allowed the two engines to mingle with each other.
Small meetings on rail tours at first to test the waters. Then they'd been exhibited together and now at their request, they had their own private shed together.
The others called it the '100 mile high club' although a lot of them had their suspicions about the two.
Lode Star had been particularly outspoken about it, calling him a traitor for letting that 'smug prick' goad him into betraying the Great Western Way.
What did Truro care for the Great Western Way? It had left him for dead and cast him aside. He was only alive because the LNER had saved him from his fate.
Still, he strived to uphold those values. Most of them at least. The older he grew the more he realised just how outdated they truly were.
"You know, you should have a good oil to stop those creaks my darling Truro," Scotsman's voice suddenly cut through his thoughts.
He jumped a bit startled at looked over at the Pacific who had his eyes half open, looked very sleepy and also extremely annoyed. Truro's creaking had woken the bigger engine up and was now annoying him.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Truro said apologetically. "I wasn't aware how loud it was. I will do my best to refrain from such irritations."
Scotsman just gave a low hearty chuckle. Truro smiled upon hearing it. It always made him happy to hear Scotsman laugh. It was a warm and rich sound that made his boiler flutter in delight.
Oh, how things had changed from the old days when the sound had just made him angry.
Truro thought that Scotsman had gone back to sleep after closing his eyes but then the Pacific spoke, his voice husky from sleep.
"What has you so worked up Truro?" The Flying Scotsman suddenly asked. "It's not like you to be agitated."
"It's, ah, nothing dear," Truro pushed away his feelings. He didn't want to bore Scotsman with the politics of the Great Western.
The Scotsman reopened his eyes and frowned at him.
"I know when something makes you anxious Truro," Scotsman scolded. "I might be an idiot but I'm very aware when someone is experiencing stress."
"You're not an idiot Scott," Truro argued and looked over at him but Scotsman was unfazed and simply stared at him, waiting for answers.
Truro gave a soft exhale and looked away.
"I do not wish to bore you with the politics of the Great Western Railway," he said ruefully. "It's tedious and would take too long to explain."
"Ah well, Pendennis complains to me all the time about it when I see him so consider me well-versed in the politics," Scotsman smiled at Truro.
"You see Pendennis?" A flame of jealousy licked in Truro's firebox.
"We've met each other a few times before Australia and since then," Scotsman yawned. "I befriended him at the Empire Exhibition and he likes to update me on the gossip. He said he needed a friend outside of the GWR otherwise he would have gone insane and I was happy to oblige."
"Oh," Truro was surprised. "Pendennis never mentioned such a thing to me."
"Well, he said he was scared of disappointing you," Scotsman explained.
"Disappointing me?"
"He considers you a hero, my dear. And he didn't want to disappoint the leader of the Great Western with his hubris of associating with me, his words, not mine."
Truro was stunned.
Pendennis was a very famous engine in the Great Western. Their most powerful and premier express engine. Although Truro reasoned, that was all the more reason why he was friends with Scotsman. Similar positions in their railways.
"I did not consider Pendennis to be friends with you," Truro remarked. "I thought you were both rivals."
"Oh, we are!" Scotsman laughed, "But I won him over with my charm."
Truro rolled his eyes as Scotsman giggled to himself.
"Just like I won you over," Scotsman teased and Truro turned bright red.
"Stop it," he exclaimed flustered.
Scotsman chuckled, "Alright. You look cute when you're flustered though."
"I said stop!" Truro shouted at Scotsman who shut his mouth and grinned teasingly.
Truro avoided Scotsman's gaze at stared at the wall next to him. After a while, he heard Scotsman settle back to sleep again. He looked over and saw Scotsman drifting back to sleep. Deciding to be impulsive, Truro asked a question.
"Do you know Pendennis's true name?" He asked and Scotsman frowned and opened his eyes to look at him.
"I do not," Scotsman replied. "We're friends but we're not that close. I understand the giving a person your true name is a sign of absolute trust or respect on the Great Western Railway."
"It is," Truro confirmed. "It's one of the few traditions of the Railway that I actually like."
"Well, I think you'll be happy to know that I don't know any true names of Great Western engines," Scotsman smiled at him.
Truro stared at Scotsman who looked half asleep and seemed desperate to go back to sleep.
"Trahaearn," Truro said softly.
Scotsman raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?" He asked sleepily.
"My true name, is Trahaearn," Truro "It was given to me by Mr Churchward himself. It means, 'Like Iron.' I have never told anyone else."
The Flying Scotsman suddenly found himself wide awake, realising the gravity of what Truro had just done.
"Why would you tell me that?" He asked confused. "I am not worthy of such a respect."
"Yes you are," Truro assured him. "I've, been meaning to tell you for a while now. It was why I was so anxious. I'm sorry for keeping you awake with such things."
"No, no, I am grateful Truro," Scotsman insisted. This time it was his turn to blush. "I am… truly honored that you would tell me such a personal and sacred thing."
"Why wouldn't I tell the person I love?" Truro asked and Scotsman's eyes widen in shock. "Is that a surprise Scotsman?"
Scotsman composed himself.
"I knew for a while but it's nice to hear it out loud, you know," Scotsman smiled at him. "I uh, don't have anything precious like a true name to give back however."
"Your loyalty is enough, Flying Scotsman," Truro assured the bigger engine.
"You'll have it for as long as I exist, Trahaearn," Scotsman vowed and Truro felt so overjoyed that his boiler felt like it might burst.
There was a pause.
"So are we, married now or something?" Scotsman asked and Truro frowned at him.
"Don't ruin the moment with your jokes!" He scolded playfully.
"It's a genuine question!"
"Flying Scotsman's mastered his grip on Gold Dust," Olivia Gresley explained as the Earl took her to see Great Northern. She looked extremely worried, however.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Sir Robert asked, noticing the anxiety in her voice.
"Considering Flying Scotsman is impulsive and acts more out of emotion than logic," Olivia explained and paused. "Let's just say I'm worried about what he's going to do now he virtually has all the freedom in the world."
Sir Robert gave a curious hum and put his hands in his pockets.
"Lady is a good judge of character," he reasoned. "She wouldn't have given him such power without going through every possible scenario. And besides, now that your soul is tied to his, he literally can't go off without you noticing."
Olivia frowned and didn't say anything. Sir Robert was right of course but Scotsman did tend to be a free spirit. She wouldn't be surprised if somehow the Scotsman managed to use his gold dust to visit America or even Australia to visit old friends again.
She'd have to make sure that the Pacific had enough constant communication with his overseas friends lest she suddenly has to deal with questions regarding the Flying Scotsman randomly appearing in a random railroad in Pennsylvania or New South Wales.
"Just lay down some ground rules for the old boy," Sir Robert advised. "Scotsman despite his bluster is reasonable most of the time. Besides, I don't think he wants to upset a Gresley."
"He's goddamn failed that many times. You know how many times he's pissed me off?" Olivia pointed out and the Earl laughed. "The insufferable idiot."
"Well, he's not perfect you know, he makes mistakes like the rest of us," Sir Robert chuckled. "And I've heard he tends to be a bit of a prankster."
"Yes well, using Gold Dust for childish pranks is cheating," Olivia scoffed and Sir Robert gave a childish giggle.
"Well, he'll certainly have the upper hand in his little war with Bittern now," the Earl laughed heartily.
Olivia shook her head.
"Don't encourage him," she said helplessly knowing that should Scotsman ever be put on display on Sodor, chaos would ensue.
"It'll be fine," Sir Robert waved his hand. "Just as long as Bittern isn't with him, then everything should be fine."
"I've created a monster," Olivia wailed in despair but there was a jovial tone behind it. She knew that Scotsman would be Scotsman, no matter what she did.
Olivia stayed back as she watched Sir Robert talk to one of the staff of the new medical wing of the castle.
With the increasing tourist spots around the castle and the high-class visitors coming to stay, Sir Robert had thought it prudent to install such facilities as the nearest hospital was in Harwick.
Her mind drifted back to the famous green engine. Scotsman would always be a childish and fun person to be around. It was why he was so beloved.
There were many engines around the world, but none that could charm or befriend people as Scotsman did. He was sweet and kind and people loved him for it. Olivia would never tell Scotsman to stop being himself. Never.
"Great Northern was taken to Arlesdale hospital via Harold sir," the nurse explained kindly. "He needed emergency surgery done on his leg. There was damage to it that required immediate care."
"Other than his leg, was he okay?" Olivia asked concerned.
"He was in shock and deep emotional stress, he had to be sedated so that paramedics could- uh- remove him from the situation," she hesitated but they both knew she was referring to the human body of Flying Scotsman.
"What exactly happened to the body?" Sir Robert asked both in concern and morbid curiosity.
"It- it's hard to explain sir," the nurse's eyes darted around. "But the body just disappeared after Great Northern was removed from it."
The nurse was probably expecting Olivia and the Earl to stare at her as if she was insane. To her surprise, both of them nodded and immediately took her word for it.
They left the poor woman at reception looking very confused and made their way back to the museum. Before them, engines were sat in the yards before the berths haphazardly. A lot of noise and commotion going on.
"What's going on?" She demanded and a Great Western Pannier tank looked at her.
"It's City of Truro ma'am, Flying Scotsman is with him but," He said nervously. "His face cracked and it… it fell apart right in front of me! He doesn't have a face anymore. Whatever Mallard did… it still affected him long after he'd left Mallard's vicinity."
Duck refused to speak anymore, clearly trying not to burst into tears.
Olivia froze, her mind numb and empty as dread filled her heart.
They'd lost Truro.
They'd been too late.
Ryan was surprised to find a large strange engine in his shed when he returned for the night. It looked a bit like that famous engine Ryan had once briefly seen. City of Truro he thought, the one that Duck liked to be fanatical about.
However, this engine looked newer, was a pretty shade of dark green and didn't have a certain ornamental look to it that Truro had. It also looked sad and lonely, with dried tears on its face.
Ryan puffed up to it quietly as it sat staring at its buffer beam looking dejected.
"Um hello," Ryan introduced himself quietly. "My name is Ryan. What's your name?"
The engine still stared at buffers for a long moment before looking up at the little purple tank engines. She stared at him and then sniffed before glaring at him.
"I'm not supposed to talk to shunters," she said, her voice croaky and warbled from crying.
Ryan looked at her sadly. This engine seemed frightened and down on herself.
"Says who?" Ryan asked kindly. "I've never heard of stupid rules like that before."
"They say it's the 'Great Western Way' and that I'm a high-class engine," she explained. She then looked away from Ryan. "I don't feel like a high-class engine."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because I can't even do basic things on the railway! I can't pull coaches properly! I can't do basic things an engine should because no one ever bothers to show me! They just tell me to act properly and look pretty for the tourists! How was I supposed to do something I never get the chance to do!" The engine was shouting now.
She looked over at Ryan who now looked alarmed.
"What is the point of me if I can't even do what I'm built for!" The engine snapped angrily, yelling more at herself than Ryan.
Ryan sat there as the engine fought back angry tears.
"I could show you," Ryan offered after a while and the engine looked up at him.
"Show me what?" She asked.
"I can show you basic things, like how to pull coaches and how to read signals, basic things," Ryan offered and the engine gazed at him before nervously looking around.
"But, I can't be seen with a shunter!"
"I'm not a shunter, I pull trains," Ryan said politely, unsure why the engine was so nervous about being seen with a 'little engine'. "I may have to shunt my trains occasionally but everyone does that."
The engine stared at him.
"Alright, but as long as no one finds out!" She declared, glancing around again still nervous.
"Great!" Ryan said happily. He paused. "I uh, didn't get your name sorry."
"Lady of-," the engine paused and then seemed to strengthen her resolve. "Tydfil. My name is Tydfil."
"It's nice to meet you, Ms Tydfil!" Ryan said brightly and Tydfil smiled at him, genuinely appreciating the kindness of this engine.
"It's nice to meet someone who isn't constantly demanding something from me for once," she said quietly, her words worrying Ryan but he said nothing and he waited for her crew to start her and get settled.
"Hello, Ms Tornado!" The new P2 Mikado's cheery voice called to Tornado as she entered the P2 Trust's small workshop.
She remembered it well from her own time, coming to life, being cheered on and welcomed with open arms. Lady Dorothy almost crying as she clutched onto her buffer and hugged her desperately telling her how proud and how much she loved her.
Tornado knew that Lady Olivia had wanted to be there when the Prince of Wales woke up but sadly that hadn't come to pass.
"Hello, Prince of Wales!" Tornado greeted the brand-new engine. "How are you feeling today?"
"I'm feeling good Ms Tornado!" The baby engine exclaimed excitedly. "Everyone's nice and happy to talk to me even though I'm not finished yet!"
"I'm glad little brother," Tornado said happily. The innocent engine was so happy and bubbly. She adored him already.
"Did you think of a name you'd like to be called?" Tornado asked. "Prince of Wales is quite a mouthful."
"Charlie!" The P2 shouted excitedly. "I want to be called Charlie!"
The chief engineer beside him chuckled.
"He's latched onto the name this one," Iain grinned at Tornado. "Short for Charles, you see."
"Yes!" The P2 said excitedly. "It fits, don't you think Ms Tornado?! Do you like it!?"
Tornado felt overwhelmed by the sheer excitability of the baby engine but she laughed it off.
"I love it, Charlie it is then," She agreed and the P2 almost began to vibrate in excitement at being accepted by his big sister.
"Easy! Easy big boy!" Iain called to him. "You're not finished yet, you'll knock something loose!"
"Oh no, I'm sorry!" Charlie blushed and looked away from the man, deeply embarrassed.
"Now the engineers will have to go over you again," Iain tutted and Charlie looked ashamed.
"It's okay Charlie, I did the same thing when I was new," Tornado assured him. "The world is exciting and wonderful when you're brand new."
"You still do the same thing," Iain pointed a finger at Tornado accusingly. "When was the last time you let engineers do a thorough check of your firebox young lady?"
Tornado flinched and rolled backwards slightly.
"I don't like people touching my firebox," she snapped. "It hurts when they inspect it!"
Iain frowned at her. "If you don't let people inspect it, it will probably become faulty again. If it's hurting then we may need to check those stays again."
"There's nothing wrong with my firebox!" Tornado suddenly shouted. "There's nothing wrong with my boiler either! I'm certified! There's nothing wrong with me!"
Iain winched as he knew he'd struck a nerve with Tornado. He glanced over at several other volunteers who looked at Tornado worriedly.
"Ms Tornado, why are you angry?" Charlie asked, looking frightened. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no, it's not you," Tornado assured the baby engine. "I'm sorry I yelled. I didn't mean to frighten you."
The P2 seemed to accept Tornado's explanation but was oblivious to the fact that she was now avoiding her chief engineer's gaze.
"Tornado," Iain warned, his tone grave. "If you think there's an issue with your firebox it needs to be checked out now."
"I have a request from one of the royal engine's guards," Tornado said blatantly ignoring Iain and hissing steam in the shed, fogging it up. "Besides, you've got Charlie to worry about."
"Tornado!" Iain called to the engine but she was gone in a huge cloud of white steam. He stared after her worried. Even if he called her back, Tornado would make it impossible for the engineers to inspect her. She would fidget and complain and refuse to open her fire door in protest.
Teenage Tornado was quite the handful, to say the least.
"Goodbye Tornado!" Charlie shouted to the cloud and in the distance Tornado gave a loud peep in reply.
Tornado hurried away flustered.
She always hated inspections. She would fidget and they would always yell at her to keep still. Her firebox was always the worst.
They hadn't built it correctly, in the beginning of her life she'd always felt out of breath, she'd felt like she was choking at times. Her fire always felt too small and caused her much embarrassment.
Sure it had been fixed, but Blue Peter had made fun of her constantly. Criticising how poorly she was, how she wasn't even a 'true' Peppercorn.
Despite her newly gained appreciation and being greatly accepted by most of the mainline engines it still hurt that Blue Peter rejected her. Her only living relative.
She slowed and stopped at a nearby yard, sitting just off of a station from the mainline where she could watch the sleek speedy modern engines flying past.
A few honked at her in greeting. Others ignored her going about her day busily.
"Hello!" One of the Azuma's called cheerily as they raced by. She gave a peep back but didn't have time to say anything as the fast sleek engine was too far down the track to hear.
She liked the Azuma's. They were young and excitable just like her. She often saw them in their yards together, chatting away and close to each other.
She was sad that she didn't get to talk to them. It would be nice to talk to engines around her own age. But what would she talk to them about? She was a steam engine and they were fast and sleek and she couldn't relate to the problems that they had.
Tornado gave a deep sigh and stared at her buffers.
Flying Scotsman and the other Steam Engines she could talk to but not really. No matter how much they showed their love to her, something had always been missing.
They were old, they were all in retirement, well, most of them were. She was young and she was strong, her life was just beginning.
Maybe the Prince of Wales coming along would make things better. Maybe now she could have a friend to talk to, relate to and understand her. That said, she still felt as if Charlie had come into her life too late.
Tornado frowned as she remembered the Lady of Legend. Something about that engine had seemed… off.
Lady of Legend had been abrasive and insulting but that wasn't what unnerved Tornado about her.
She hadn't felt old but she didn't feel like a young engine either. She couldn't explain it but there had been something very strange about the engine.
She'd asked Pendennis but he'd told her not to worry about it. She had asked him if she was a new build but the Castle Class had quickly changed the topic.
She didn't press as Pendennis was clearly uncomfortable but still, her curiosity was piqued.
The loud whistle of another steam engine cut through her thoughts and she gazed up. She frowned as she saw who it was.
"What do you want, Blue Peter?" She asked tiredly. "I've not had the best day and I am in no mood for your insults."
"I have not come to insult you, Young Iron," Blue Peter said his voice gruff and with great reluctance in his voice. "I have come to apologise for my actions towards you."
Tornado frowned. She was aware that the Royal Engine had recently exiled Blue Peter from her yards after her little visit to the royal engine. She'd overheard Matey, the NRM's lead diesel shunter talking with his friends about it and had asked.
Apparently, Blue Peter had been acting out for some time now, being a lot more obtuse and inciting conflict with another of the Southern Railway engines last week. 737 had had to step in and resolve the conflict and clearly the Duchess had had enough.
Tornado's thoughts drifted to Blue Peter's attitude towards her yesterday and she knew it couldn't have been a coincidence that suddenly Blue Peter had lost his place as an esteemed member of the Royal Engine's inner circle.
"You apologising to me wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you got kicked off the Duchess's council now would it?" Tornado asked, a sceptical eyebrow raised. Blue Peter glared at her and looked ready to shout at her but Tornado grit her teeth and wanted to stop him before he could start.
"Before you start blaming me for something I had nothing to do with, I said nothing to Duchess about you, I just went to tell her about the Prince of Wales," Tornado snapped. "Don't even think about calling me an impostor or a fake Peppercorn because I'm not having it anymore!"
Blue Peter was shocked. Never before had Tornado been so blunt and so straightforward with him. Usually, she was reserved and quiet.
"You were so nice to me when I first woke up," Tornado pointed out. "You were excited and happy to have me added to your family but then I don't know what happened, you just started to be nasty and insulting towards me for no reason! You started calling me an impostor and I don't know what I did wrong!"
Tornado was glaring at Blue Peter now angry and upset. Blue Peter said nothing, merely staring at her.
"Was it because of the design flaws I had? Was it because of my firebox? Was it because of the incident with the Ebor? Was it because I never met our designer?" Tornado demanded angrily.
Blue Peter just stared at her.
"Well?!" She shouted suddenly, startling him. "Answer me! What was it?"
The A2 Peppercorn stared at her for a while before looking away.
"I don't know," he finally said after a while and Tornado wheeshed steam at him unhappily.
"What do you mean you don't know?!" She yelled angrily. "You don't know why you suddenly decided to be an asshole to me?!"
"Tornado!" Her driver, Matthias scolded her for her language. He was however ignored as Tornado's undivided focus remained on her cousin.
Blue Peter looked like he was about to speak but Tornado was having none of it.
"You know what? I don't care anymore," she huffed annoyed. "I've found my friends and family, they supported me and loved me like you never followed through with. You can go on being shitty to me but I don't care anymore, I'm tired of trying to figure out what your deal is Blue Peter."
"Tornado I-"
"Enough, I don't want to talk to you anymore," Tornado declared as she build up steam and began to steam away. "If you're not even going to apologise to me like you mean it and not just to gain favour with Duchess, then don't even bother talking to me, Blue Peter."
Matthias looked concerned as they watched Blue Peter slowly grow smaller in the distance.
"Well, I'm glad that you're standing up for yourself Tornado but I don't approve of your bad language," he chided and Tornado huffed again.
"I'm not a baby anymore!" She argued and Matthias nodded.
"I know that but you have a tendency to be very impulsive and hot-headed, you might say or do something you might regret, need I remind you what happened to-"
"Don't bring up the thing with Green Arrow!" She snapped angrily as she began to build up speed. "We forgave each other and moved past it!"
"I understand that Tornado, I just don't want you to hurt yourself or someone else," Matthias explained kindly. "The Trust loves you and they want you to be happy but they won't hesitate to put a leash on you if you start behaving inappropriately."
Tornado grumbled but seemed to calm, riding the rails and feeling at ease as she paced herself along the track.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's just, Blue Peter was so kind to me but then he suddenly started to be rude out of nowhere. I guess I'm just frustrated."
Matthias sighed his hand tight on her regulator.
"Maybe one day you'll find out why, but for now let's just go for a nice calming run, alright?"
Tornado puffed herself up nice and proud. She liked a good run.
"Can we go to the seaside?" Tornado asked like a small child excitedly and Matthias chuckled.
"Only if you get that firebox checked out missy moo," he bargained and Tornado frowned. She didn't want people fussing about her firebox. She hated it with a passion. But still, she did want to go to the seaside, her favourite place in the world.
The sea calmed her, put her at ease and made her happy. Something about the rhythm of the waves and the birds, the smell, she adored it.
She enjoyed that dockyard Diesel with the funny accent because of it. He sounded like a pirate and he enjoyed telling her stories.
Her mind briefly went to her friends in Sodor.
She wasn't sure what had happened, only that she remembered racing away from Ulfstead Castle towards… somewhere and that suddenly she and her crew had woken up in Darlington to the surprise of everyone.
She felt like she'd forgotten something important but her senses, her memories… it was like they'd been sedated.
Tornado frowned and shook herself out of her thoughts. She stared at the treeline as it raced away beside her.
"Alright," she finally agreed and Matthias beamed, letting her a little bit of freedom on her regulator. Tornado squealed happily and for a moment she was young and carefree again.
A deep foreboding feeling in her subconscious told her that it wouldn't last long.
Flying Scotsman sat silently in front of the famous City Class engine that for half his left he'd fought with, insulted and wanted nothing more than to be in the situation he had been in now.
Now it was the very thing he dreaded.
He didn't know how long he'd sat there, silently staring at the engine he treasured and adored above all else, his engine looking like it was coated in a thick black oil and staring back at him was the empty blank smokebox door with no face, not even the suggestion of Truro's sharp eyes filled with deep intelligence, his sharp nose or his quiet smile.
Scotsman wanted to cry but he just couldn't.
He knew that Truro had put himself in this position for his sake, he'd willingly given himself to Mallard in an attempt to save Scotsman.
Truro couldn't have known what would happen, he couldn't be mad at him when he most possibly would have done the same thing to save Truro in return.
Still, the Black smoke clung to the Great Western's engine, wrapped tightly around the boiler of the old engine with a tight and unforgiving grip. It hissed at Scotsman as he moved forward, closer to Truro's engine.
"There's nowhere else to go," Scotsman found himself saying calmly. "Mallard is gone, you'll have to leave Truro's engine. There's nothing for you within it anymore. It's over. Give up."
The Black Smoke made a horrible screeching noise at him, trying to frighten him but Flying Scotsman paid it no mind. He'd had enough.
He buffered up to Truro and grabbed onto the black smoke before it could flee elsewhere.
"You've caused enough chaos over the years," he said coldly, "I think it's time for you to go."
Scotsman's Gold Dust glowed with a blinding golden yellow hue, making it appear as if his engine was made of light.
The Black Smoke howled and screamed at the sight of him, his light burning the very existence of the horrendous thick oily smoke like an apparition.
With a deafening howl, it gave one last effort to attack Flying Scotsman, uncurling from Truro's boiler and lunging to attack the A3 Pacific but it only served to quicken its doom as it allowed Scotsman to completely and utterly vanquish it with a defiant shriek that echoed through the engine berth.
A deafening silence sat in the berth for a long moment as Scotsman simply sat there, staring at the now empty and faceless engine. The oily look that Truro had once had was now gone, replaced with a brilliant gleam that made the gold on his engine shine as if it was glowing.
Scotsman moved forward so that he pressed down on Truro's buffers, hoping for some, any kind of resistance. There was nothing.
Scotsman wanted to scream and to shout. He had lost Truro, he'd lost the one person who had made the nights where he'd been ill or where he'd suffered from nightmares bearable. He'd been there, when no one else had, when he felt abandoned and lost in the world. When the dread of the cutter's torch plagued him and left him racked with anxiety and pain.
The last few decades Scotsman had been sick, terribly sick and yet when Truro came to comfort him, to listen to him complain and whine like a young iron, he felt… whole and loved.
"Truro come back," Scotsman whispered, his voice cracked with tears. "I'm finally well again. I'm back, you can finally see me at my best!"
The empty engine said nothing and Scotsman felt complete and utter despair fill his boiler.
"You were supposed to be the first person to see me return," he wept quietly. "I wanted it to be you."
For a while, Scotsman sat quietly staring at their buffers before an idea emerged in his mind. He stopped his tears and looked into the blank face of the engine before him.
He knew it was a stab in the dark but he had to at least try.
He gently reached out with his Gold Dust and carefully wrapped it around Truro's boiler, almost like a gentle hug. He carefully used the gold dust to search every inch of the engine, making sure the engine was empty.
"Truro come back," Scotsman begged. "Truro please."
Scotsman suddenly froze as the Gold Dust brushed against something that felt familiar and warm.
"Truro?" He asked hopefully.
The feeling seemed to flee, frightened and scared, possibly thinking that Scotsman's gold dust was the black smoke.
"Truro it's me!" Scotsman frantically exclaimed realising there was something of Truro left.
Truro's soul was frightened and scared and didn't know what was happening. Scotsman needs to reassure it.
"It's me Truro! Come back!" Scotsman pleaded but the remaining part of Truro's soul seemed to panic.
Scotsman paused. Truro was still there, but he had retreated so deep into his engine that he was practically blind, deaf and unable to perceive anything around him.
He needed to get Truro to recognise him before he retreated into his engine further and was lost forever.
Flying Scotsman sat there contemplating for a few moments and drew the Gold Dust away from Truro's soul, trying to let the dear engine know that he meant him no harm. He hovered, at the edge of Truro's perception, quietly observing him.
"Trahaearn," Scotsman called to Truro kindly. "It's me. Please recognise me."
Truro's soul seemed to stop and observe. It edged closer to Scotsman's Gold Dust before reaching out and grasping at it.
Truro's soul felt small, broken and colder than it should be and Scotsman immediately cradled it in Gold Dust protectively.
"Yes! Yes! It's me! Trahaearn!" Scotsman called excitedly. "It's alright, you're safe, I won't let anything hurt you."
A wave of relief washed over both engines as Truro's soul became brighter and seemed to welcome Scotsman's presence although was still terrified and still small.
With a great effort, Scotsman pulled and the smoke door on Truro's engine began to glow hot and with golden energy.
With one last mighty effort, Scotsman pulled Truro back into his engine and the face on his smokebox door appeared. The face looked frightened and tired from the black smokes assault on him but Truro was alive and had reclaimed his engine.
"Trahaearn!" Scotsman burst into tears of relief.
Truro stared back at him, confused and shaken but he then smiled and pressed back against Scotsman's buffers.
"I'm here," he croaked out quietly. "Not going anywhere."
"You better not," Scotsman sniffed. "Or I'll come to whatever afterlife we engines have and drag you back to me!"
"Is that a threat?"
"No, it's a promise."
Trahaearn - Means "very much like iron", derived from Welsh tra "very, over" prefixed to haearn "iron".
~For updates, extra lore or to ask questions or discuss the fic, you can find me on tornadoyoungiron tumblr
There is also a Tumblr where you can directly ask the characters of this story at Ask Young Iron