"Did you ask Bittern for the opening of the Sodor Branch?" Stainer sounded tired and annoyed.

Olivia frowned, turning away from little baby Scott who played in his crib babbling happily to himself and repositioning her phone against her head.

"Bittern is currently at Shildon being a nuisance," she said with a furrowed brow. "He's on display for a month."

"Funny because a blue LNER A4 just showed up at Ulfstead Castle last night, its driver claiming Bittern was invited to the opening," Stainer said. "It had the right paperwork and everything with it too."

"What?"

"My thoughts exactly, however this engine hasn't spoken and is being suspiciously quiet," Stainer said, suspicion clear in his voice. "Its number has also been covered up."

Olivia felt a cold chill run down her spine.

"It's Mallard," she said. "He's gotten some people at the museum to vouch for him. It would be even easier with both of us here."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

"What do we do?"

Olivia frowned.

"Well he'll be after Flying Scotsman so double the guards and only use Sir Robert's or the North Western, none of the NRM'S, we'll have him moved somewhere safe," Olivia turned back as baby Scott began to cry. "It's okay darling mummy's here."

"I'll organise it right away," Stainer sounded like he was on a mission now. "What about Arrow, you said he'd be a target for Mallard as well."

"Have Sir Topham move him to another shed. Perhaps with Tangmere and Tornado," Olivia suggested. "And ask him to double the security on the Sodor Steamworks. No one without authority goes near the Scotsman's engine."

"I'm on it," Stainer said. "I assume trust no one in the NRM right now?"

"Yes, we don't know how deep this rot runs."

"Let's nip this in the bud then Lady Gresley. Your Grandfather's engines are a quite dramatic lot, did you know that?" Stainer teased.

"Oh like your party of Black 5's is much better," she sneered back and Stainer just laughed at that.

Henry looked over and saw the Fat Controller coming up to the platform beside him. He ignored Thomas, Edward and Percy who were sitting around the platform, almost as if waiting for something. They were looking at him expectantly and seemed excited and chatting among themselves in hushed tones. Henry ignored them, annoyed.

"Hello sir, I hope everything is okay?" He asked the man anxiously. He'd been pulled from his work at the clay pit mines and James had taken over much to the Red Engine's dismay.

The Red Engine had insisted that Green Arrow take the job as the clay would leave a layer of dust on his splendid red paint; however he'd the Fat Controller refused to take no for an answer.

Green Arrow was busy hauling coaches and couldn't have been taken off his train mid journey anyway.

"Why yes Henry, everything is completely fine! In fact, I have a friend here to see you!" The man said with a jovial tone. "She arrived here yesterday, however you had to run to Barrow at the last minute so you couldn't meet her."

"I apologise," Henry blushed deeply.

The Fat Controller waved his hand dismissively.

"It's fine Henry, absolutely fine, she had a good time getting to know the other engines. Except for Gordon, but I'll deal with him later," he said with a frown.

"Gordon's always like that with new engines," Edward sighed. "I do wish that he would have learnt by now that not every new or visiting engine is his enemy."

Thomas frowned.

"I don't know," he said with concern. "He looked genuinely upset at some of the things she was saying about him and his class. And he didn't start anything with her. If anything it looked like he just wanted to be left alone."

"Perhaps," Edward mused. "But given Gordon's record."

Thomas didn't look convinced. To be honest, he was worried about Gordon.

The big blue engine hadn't been himself since his brother had gone into his rebuild. Sometimes he caught the express engine sitting with his brother at the steamworks as they worked to rebuild him, even without his consciousness inside his engine.

He really should talk to his old ally. He didn't like how Gordon was slowly drifting away from everyone. Especially not Henry. Gordon and Henry were very close so it was noticeable when Gordon didn't talk to him.

Henry was watching them carefully but his attention was grabbed by a loud unfamiliar whistle. It sounded grand and powerful and Henry looked away from his friends to the tracks in front of him.

Henry saw an engine approach from a distance. It was black with red stripes, much like James' original livery. His eyes widened in delight at the sight of the engine who was smiling cherrily at him.

"Hello Henry dear!" The engine called to him and gave him a wide, warm smile. "So you're the wonderful new addition that Magpie has been telling everyone about."

"I um, yes, I suppose I am! Hello!" Henry said flustered and the engine laughed at him.

"My name is Biggin Hill, Henry," she introduced herself. "But most people just call me Hillsy. I am 5110 and I work at Severn Valley."

"I've heard of that Railway," Henry said, unsure of what to say to his new sibling. "Is it nice?"

"Oh it's simply wonderful, you really must come and visit one day!" Hillsy grinned. "We'd love to have you. You must be so starved for attention, with no other Stainer's around for so long."

Henry didn't know what to make of that. Honestly, he never cared about the LMS or LNER pedigree that a lot of engines had. Even Gordon had had traces of it when he had been known to the railway. A proud son of the LNER he had called himself. A force that helped shape some of Sir Nigel Gresley's most powerful and famous engines, quite literally.

"I never really cared for the whole arms race between Railways to be honest," Henry admitted. "I never even saw myself as a true Stainer Black 5, I was rebuilt into one after being a failed Gresley prototype."

"Nonsense," Hillsy said dismissively. "You are one of us, through and through. You join our family with pride Henry."

Henry blushed.

He'd never had a family before. Well not in the way that he had other siblings like Gordon and the Flying Scotsman. The North Western Railway was his family, first and foremost. But he'd never had other members of the same class as him. He always thought himself unique, an anomaly.

"5025 will be coming down to see you himself," Hillsy informed him. "He is the oldest and strongest of us, once you have his approval then you are part of our unit."

"Approval? I don't need anyone's approval to be happy with myself," Henry said and Hillsy frowned at him. "I'm happy with who I am. I fought hard to be here and to prove my worth."

"You do if you wish to be accepted by the rest of our class," Hillsy explained and Henry looked down at his buffers nervously.

"Oh, oh I see," Henry mumbled to himself.

Hillsy laughed at him.

"Don't worry about anything Henry," she said in a jovial tone. "Everyone's already accepted you. It's so rare to have an engine appear after all these years. Especially one as special as yourself."

Henry blushed at that.

"I'm not that special, I'm just another big engine here," he said, embarrassed at Hillsy's words.

"Not to us you're not," she affirmed and Henry smiled.

"Thank-you Hillsy."

"You're welcome dear brother."

The City of Truro stared at the Blue A4 before him. He frowned deeply and looked over it with a critical eye.

"You're not fooling anyone you know, Mallard," Truro said coldly. "How did you even get here? I thought that your boiler was out of service."

The A4 gave a viscous smirk.

"It's funny how easily humans are swayed, especially when a famous engine requests things from them," the deep nasally voice of the A4 said. "They think of us as mere tools put into their service, you know, it's impossible for them to think that an engine could use them the same way."

"You mean like you did with Cain?" Truro accused and Mallard gave him a viscous smirk.

"The younger the mind, the easier it is to influence," he simply stated. "Same goes for engines."

"Green Arrow knows what you did, he's aware of how you manipulated him," Truro pointed out. "How you took advantage of his distress and then you tried to silence him."

"He's a small insignificant engine," Mallard huffed with a roll of his eyes.

"He's big enough for you to get scared enough to try to silence and scrap him."

Mallard frowned at him. "I did not try to scrap Green Arrow."

"Regardless of the truth, you failed," Truro sneered. "And you were not invited here."

Mallard smirked. "I decided to invite myself. It was clearly pointless to rely on Cain to get anything I wanted done in the end. It was rather rude of that so called Gresley to not invite the most powerful and famous member of her grandfather's creations to this little Island's Branch grand opening. I would be insulted if I didn't know better."

"If you think you're getting your buffers on Scotsman then you have another thing coming," Truro hissed angrily at the A4 who simply sat there gazing down at City of Truro.

"I'm not here for that outdated relic," Mallard spat angrily. "And I'm not here for that idiotic nosy little V2 either. No, City of Truro, I have more ambitious goals to achieve in my sights."

"What do you mean?" Truro demanded but Mallard just gave Truro a smile that made a cold chill run through his boiler.

"You'll see Great Western, you'll see," Mallard smirked at him.

Truro just stared at Mallard confused and fear creeping into the back of his mind.

He didn't know what Mallard wanted, but he knew that it couldn't have been good whatever it was.

Green Arrow was agitated, anyone could see that.

Whatever it was that was agitating him, Gordon didn't care for. Green Arrow was just annoying him now with the creaking of his wheels as he shifted on them.

"Stop that!" He snapped at his cousin who simply frowned in response.

"It's not intentional, I don't know that I'm doing it half the time," Arrow argued, annoyed. "It's just something that I do."

"Well it's annoying!"

"Well your pompous attitude is annoying!" Arrow snapped back. "Don't you ever relax? It's like being with Great Northern again and he was nothing but an asshole to me!"

Gordon seemed to fall silent at Arrow's statement. He was silent for a long time as the two sat in the yards together on their break from pulling their respective trains. Usually the two never spoke to the other or they'd just make occasional snide remarks. After a few minutes of silence and glances at the smaller engine, Gordon finally spoke up again.

"You, you met Great Northern?" He asked hesitantly.

Green Arrow gave Gordon a suspicious sideways glance.

"Yeah, only a few times, wish I never had at all to be honest," The V2 snorted. "Always said my class was a waste of space. At least Flying Scotsman gave us the courtesy of being polite. Hell he even befriended my sister. Northern was nothing but rude and nasty to us!"

Gordon said nothing for a while but he stared at the tracks ahead of him.

"Great Northern told me I should have been scrapped," he said quietly. "He also bullied Flying Scotsman. My brother hated him."

Green Arrow raised his eyebrow.

"What really? Of all engines? Flying Scotsman?"

Gordon glared at Green Arrow.

"My brother wasn't always famous, Little Arrow," He said curtly. "Once he was only 4472, an engine just like the rest of his class."

The V2 beside him looked thoughtful and curious. Gordon could tell that the smaller engine had questions but was reframing from asking them.

"I see," was all Arrow said simply.

Gordon raised his eyebrow and looked at Green Arrow. He was being surprisingly restrained for once. He wondered if any of the other V2's were like this. He'd never met any other member of Arrow's class, only Green Arrow himself and he was the first and last of his class.

He'd only really heard about them from his brother.

"Have you heard anything about your brother lately?" Green Arrow asked and Gordon immediately became defensive.

"It's none of your business Little Arrow!" He snapped angrily at him and Arrow just looked at him annoyed.

"You can't keep painting me as the villain Gordon," He retorted. "Flying Scotsman and I have made peace with each other. What happened, happened and none of us can change the past. We've agreed to move past this."

Gordon huffed angrily. "Well you're just an annoying little engine like all the rest! No matter what my brother says or believes, the fact still stands that you went after him and you tried to have him scrapped!"

Green Arrow sighed and closed his eyes.

"Look," he said with a tired tone to his voice. "I'm trying to better myself and take responsibility for my actions. I've done things I regret. Things I probably shouldn't have a second chance for but I do. Your controller gave me a second chance Gordon, I'm going to honour that. You can be bitter about me all you want, but I'm tired of this. I just want to move on from what I did, okay?"

Green Arrow looked utterly fed up and annoyed with Gordon.

"You can do whatever you want Gordon, but I'm not going to let you hold my mistakes over my head like Great Northern did," he said coldly. "I know you're not Great Northern Gordon, but you're well on the path to becoming like him."

Gordon's face paled and he stared at Arrow in utter shock.

"How dare you!" He shouted but Green Arrow ignored him.

"I'm done trying to be your friend Gordon," he snapped. "I've run out of patience. Don't think I don't know of you talking about me to the other big engines. I have better things to do than to worry about the opinions of big fish in small ponds."

Green Arrow hissed steam as his crew began to warm him up again. He ignored the furious look on Gordon's face.

"You should be focused on helping your brother, not antagonising me," he said curtly. "Of which I know the nature of his condition. I think he needs his brother more than anything right now."

Green Arrow left with a loud wheesh and quickly disappeared to turn around on to his next train leaving Gordon to stare after him speechless.

Of all the things he didn't want to be, Great Northern was one of them. Considering how badly Scotsman had been targeted and bullied by his older brother it was the very last thing he wanted.

Maybe his cousin was right. Maybe Arrow had a point there.

Gordon frowned and let off a little bit of steam. He saw Phillip starting to shunt his next train and stared ahead.

He really hoped he didn't run into Henry or his sister on this journey. He really did not want to deal with that LMS and LNER rivalry that 'Hillsy' kept trying to push on him.

He really hoped that Henry didn't lean it to the long dead rivalry either.

Gordon had enough annoying things to deal with right now.

Maybe he should check on his brother as Arrow suggested.

As his driver climbed back into his cab, he made up his mind.

He'd go to Ulfstead Castle and pay him a visit.

"I guess I should say congratulations, Flying Scotsman," Sir Frederirk Banbury said as Flying Scotsman came into the sheds where Donovan, Sceptre and Pretty Polly sat in their berths waiting for him. To the side, Great Northern sat silently, eyeing the exchange carefully.

"Yes, yes!" Pretty Polly exclaimed joyfully. "Giving it to those LMS and those Great Western's!"

"The LNER's got them beat lads! Flying Scotsman's got them all on the run!" Donovan laughed and Flying Scotsman blushed as he turned on the turntable.

He wasn't used to positive attention from his siblings. He went to reverse into his berth, away from the others but Polly called out to him.

"Scotsman, please come sleep next to me and Spec tonight!" She urged. "We want to know everything about your 100 mile run!"

"Yes, what was it like?!" Spectre asked excitedly. "I don't think I've ever gone past 90 miles per hour, 100 miles sounds like insanity!"

"Well I um," Flying Scotsman mumbled embarrassed but he was cut off by Great Northern's voice.

"No, 4472 has a designated berth to sleep in like the rest of you," Great Northern interjected. "4472 will return to his own berth. That is Lemberg's berth, Pretty Polly."

"Oh you're such a bore, North!" Polly snapped. "You're always telling us to leave Scotsman alone! For once we want to celebrate him! I think he's earned our respect, don't you brothers?"

"It's not proper!" Great Northern argued.

"Who cares! It's for one night!" Donovan snapped, stepping in to defend Polly. "One would think you're jealous of Scotsman for achieving his record!"

"I am not jealous," Great Northern said coldly.

"No, it's alright," Flying Scotsman said with a scowl at Great Northern. "I think Sir Gresley wanted me to go to his workshop anyway. He wanted to make sure I hadn't worn or damaged anything. I think I'll go there instead."

Pretty Polly huffed.

"That's a shame, we wanted to celebrate your record with you, brother," she said with a kind smile.

The Flying Scotsman felt his cheeks turn red with warmth from her kind words. He didn't interact with his siblings that often, other than taunts or jeers from them but something in the air had changed.

There was a sense of respect that now hung in the air.

Well, from everyone present except Great Northern.

"I, I would like to celebrate with you too," he assured Polly and the others. "But I fear old iron over there might take issue with us staying up all night."

The other engines laughed and Great Northern scowled.

"Just because you've broken a record does not give you permission to talk to me with such indignity, 4472," North said sternly but Scotsman held firm.

"To be honest Great Northern," he said, a new found confidence he never realised he had rising in him. "I'm tired of you. I think a lot of the other engines are tired of you. If you want to even consider criticising me, I'm afraid you're going to have to beat my record. You don't get to boss me around anymore, not after I proved myself to the entire world."

Great Northern stared at Flying Scotsman with a disapproving frown.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, 4472," he warned but Flying Scotsman just glared at him furiously.

"My name is FLYING SCOTSMAN!" He shouted angrily at North. "I run the most important line on the LNER and you will stop talking down to me like I just came out of the works! I'm tired of you 4470!"

Banbury smirked. "I like this feisty 4472, he's much better than that wimpy boy who's been moping around the last decade."

The Flying Scotsman threw a glare at Banbury, annoyed. Banbury ignored him though.

"I'm going to Gresley's workshop," he announced. "At the very least, Great Northern won't be able to make snide remarks at me in front of him."

Flying Scotsman steamed off of the turntable in a huff, leaving for Gresley's workshop without another word.

"No wait Flying Scotsman! Come back please!" He heard Polly call out to him desperately. "Why do you have to be so nasty to him North!"

"He is the LNER's show pony. He must be held at a higher standard," he heard North say. "He needs to be kept accountable lest he slip."

"That doesn't mean you have to constantly belittle him! He did something amazing! Let him celebrate for once!" Polly snapped back.

Scotsman didn't hear the rest of the argument as he chuffed away, his thoughts a mix of anger and sadness.

It was odd, watching his memories like this, he realised as he suddenly found himself becoming aware of the fact he was reliving his past.

He was watching himself in the third person. It was so unnerving, so bizarre. But at least this time he was aware of it.

He stood on his own running board, in that awful little human body that the Gold Dust had cursed him into. The wind was rushing past him but he felt nothing.

He looked back at the engine sheds as he sped away from them with a heavy heart.

Why couldn't Great Northern ever be proud of him, just once? His siblings had looked proud of him, even if it was because his record meant that they had won against their rival railways. Why hadn't he been allowed to celebrate at least once with his siblings without Great Northern leering over them with a judgemental attitude?

He frowned and stared down. He looked down and saw his human body, but almost appearing as a ghost made of gold dust.

Shocked, he raised his hands to his face, staring at them.

He looked like a ghost.

A ghost standing on his own engine.

He looked back up at his engine frightened.

Green Arrow had consistently told the same story of when he had found him in Ulfstead mines.

That his engine appeared dead and soulless, that he had no steam, nor he had no crew.

And that a golden ghost of someone stood on his running board, just as he was now.

He stumbled back, gripping the railing on his boiler in fright.

Maybe that hadn't been Pegler's ghost… maybe it had been him or something like him.

He didn't even notice that his past engine self had stopped and backed into Gresley's works.

He heard his past self speaking but he ignored it. He could hear the cheers and whistles of the workmen, the crews and the designers as they congratulated him and his crews with a raucous applause.

What did the Gold Dust want? What was it trying to tell him?

A flash of movement caught his eye and he saw what looked like the darkened outline of a strange engine at the back of the workshop.

It wasn't a Gresley design, it was small, smaller than Thomas or Percy, it was strange and had a reddish livery with a glimmer of gold to it.

"What?" He muttered trying to see it but it seemed to disappear as he blinked.

"What was that?"

"Flying Scotsman," he heard Gresley's voice sternly call out to him, sounding right beside his head.

He yelled in surprise and stumbled, almost falling off his engine's run board but a sturdy hand grabbed and stopped him from slipping.

No one was supposed to see him. These were his memories, dreams he was having. It was impossible to interact with what was already down to history.

He suddenly noticed that everything around him in the memory had frozen, everything was eerily still and a strange feeling permeated the air.

Like another person had intruded on his own consciousness, his memories

He turned and almost jumped back in shock when was greeted by the figure of a man he knew very well.

"Mr Sir Gresely sir!" He stammered over his words, almost falling back and off his running board again but his designer had a firm grasp on his arm and stopped him.

"Easy my boy," Gresley assured him. "Let's not damage this handsome human form you have."

The Flying Scotsman just stared at him speechless.

"Is this, is this a dream? Am I hallucinating?" He finally asked.

Sir Gresley didn't smile but he looked around at Scotsman's memory.

"Perhaps," he said distantly. "But it's a chance for us to speak. Regardless of whether it's real or not, I think such a meeting would do you well."

The Scotsman stared at Sir Gresley before giving a hesitant nod.

"Yes sir," he said. "I apologise for not appearing in my engine."

"Think nothing of it," Sir Gresley said dismissively. "Your body was made from your own perception of yourself. I'm glad to see that you've grown in confidence my dear boy. You look strong and grand."

The Scotsman lowered his gaze and looked away from Sir Gresley.

"I don't want to be stuck in the form sir," he said quietly. "I want to be back in my engine but, if I go back, the Cold Sleep will take me. I don't want to die sir, I came so far. And I achieved so much. I don't want to die "

"There is a way to defeat it, but if I tell you, you'll never find it."

The Scotsman looked back at his designer sadly.

"I wish I could be the engine you always wanted me to be, sir," he said quietly. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder as Sir Gresley gripped him and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"You were and still are Flying Scotsman," Sir Gresley said, for once his face morphing into a proud expression. "You exceeded every expectation I had of you. I'm proud of you."

The Flying Scotsman felt tears well in his eyes.

"Thank-you sir," he said, holding back his tears.

"You'll get there Flying Scotsman, I have every faith that you will."

"I'll do my best sir."

Sir Gresley frowned and seemed to ponder something.

"Could I ask you to pass a message on for me?"

"Yes sir, I can do that," Scotsman affirmed, simply happy to interact with his designer after all these years even if it was a hallucination or a ghost.

"When you find Great Northern, tell him I'm sorry I failed him," Sir Gresley said and Scotsman's eyes widened.

"You mean, if he approaches me like you are now sir? As a ghost?"

"I do not," Sir Gresley said curtly. "For one to be a ghost, one has to be dead."

The Flying Scotsman's face went white as a sheet.

"Great- Great Northern's still alive? He wasn't scrapped?!" Scotsman suddenly shouted. "What- what are you talking about sir? Sir!"

Sir Gresley had suddenly disappeared and the sounds of celebration suddenly came back as his memory suddenly started to play again.

He heard Sir Gresley from the past proclaiming his 100 mph record but Scotsman didn't care at all. He just stared around in a panic.

"He's alive?" He said to himself in complete and utter disbelief. "What-"

He suddenly slipped off the running board and fell, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

For updates, to ask questions or discuss the fic, you can find me on tumblr at tornadoyoungiron or on twitter as BakunawaArt.