Chapter 12 - Family Reunion

Olivia hadn't seen 'Uncle Nathan' at all since she had arrived at her family's estate. Flying Scotsman had been incredibly quiet on the return journey to the manor when questioned only saying that he was extremely tired.

Olivia knew there was more to it but did not press. The Scotsman did look completely exhausted from the long journey. He'd quickly disappeared into the guest room, falling asleep almost instantly.

Thankfully their mother had kept Roman away from them, almost instantly banishing him to the opposite wing of the manor. Olivia did not want anything to do with her father.

She paused outside Uncle Nathan's study. She always remembered coming here to study or hide after her father found her 'trying to do unwoman-like things' such as her vivid interest in locomotives and railways.

Uncle Nathan would always protect her and vouch for her. He would let her tag along to rail tours or to train spot steam engines. Her brothers thought Nathan's hobbies were weird and stupid but she loved them.

She could attribute her love of steam engines to Nathan, seeing how passionate and excited he was about them inspired her. Especially his obsession with Flying Scotsman.

Now in context, it took a depressing turn as she now realised who Nathan or North as Sir Nigel called him truly was.

She knocked on the great oak door to her Uncle's study. There was a pause before she heard a "come in".

She opened the door and saw the study that was filled to the ceiling with memorabilia of the LNER's Pacifics but mostly centred around Flying Scotsman. The collection had gotten a lot bigger since she had last seen it many decades ago.

She even saw a framed newspaper article about her appointment as the NRM's newest director and articles on the Flying Scotsman being found on Sodor. Her Uncle Nathan had come over and was patiently standing near her, watching her intently.

"You've certainly added a lot to it last time I saw it," she told him and North nodded.

"Yes ma'am, things have certainly been most interesting since you left," he said quietly.

Olivia turned away from his collection and looked her 'Uncle Nathan' up and down.

He wasn't all that tall, under 6ft at least, his short curly hair and beard were a brilliant red and he had piercing green eyes. He wore a simple black causal suit and was surprisingly buff looking for a elder man in his late 40s.

"You look exactly the same as you did when I was a child," she smiled and he nodded.

"I think you know the reason for that now," he said and Olivia smiled at him.

"I do indeed, Great Northern," she said and North smiled at her slightly. "I'm surprised you didn't tell me when I was a child seeing how much I followed you around and pestered you about engines."

"Would you have believed me?" He asked and Olivia shook her head.

"I guess I wouldn't have," Olivia gave a soft laugh.

"Congratulations on becoming the National Railway Museum's director ma'am," North said with a slight bow. "I am glad they chose such a passionate and skilled engineer."

"Now, now, you have a lot of credit for that," Olivia said waving a hand dismissively at him. "You and your wonderful collection. Honestly, the museum's collection is nothing compared to the amount of information you have. It was kind of a letdown, to be honest."

Olivia turned to gaze around at the collection again as North cast his eyes down to the floor.

"It's mostly about 4472, there's nothing much else aside from several of my sibling's achievements," North admitted quietly. "I only ever sought out information on 4472- I mean, Flying Scotsman."

Olivia looked back at North and found him staring at the ground dejected.

"You don't have a very good relationship with him from what I've heard," she said and North looked away, avoiding her gaze.

"I was terrible to him, I thought I was helping him but in the end, I just hurt him," he said quietly. "It wasn't until I was rebuilt that I realised just how cruel I was being."

Olivia looked at North sadly before glancing at the collection around him.

"Is that why you made this collection? To celebrate him?"

"I should have been proud of him when we were still engines. When the LNER directors said they were going to try and save me and gave me this new body while they tried to save my engine, I thought," North paused and gazed at his collection. "I thought- It was my way of showing I was proud of him. Even if I couldn't talk to him, or he didn't know what really happened to me, I could still be proud."

Olivia stared at North solemnly as he stared at a photograph of her as a child and Flying Scotsman on one of his rail tours. It was the first time she'd met the Flying Scotsman and she remembered the day so vividly. It was probably one of the events that cemented her absolute love for railway engines.

"Well, you now have a chance to tell him how proud you are of him, he's here and he has some regrets of his own," Olivia told North and he looked frightened. "This is a chance that you can't turn down North."

"He hates me," North simply said. "I would hate myself too if I had to deal with the way I acted to him. And besides, today is his build day, I do not want to upset him on such a day. Thank you for coming to see me Lady Olivia but I'm very busy."

North turned away from Olivia and went back to his desk, completely ignoring her.

"North-" Olivia said but was ignored, North was sitting at his desk, continuing to work on whatever it had been before she had decided to visit him.

"Just, make sure you at least talk to him before we leave, for me? For your little engineer, Olivia?"

North didn't respond but she could see that his face had softened at her words. He had a big heart for her, having seen her grow up and being more of a father figure to her than her own father.

"I'll see you later North," Olivia said with a smile and with one last look at his collection, left.

"I know you're pretending to be asleep," Olivia's brother said as he watched over the Flying Scotsman's human form curled in a ball in his bed. He was ignored as the human engine did not move in his bed at all.

He did when Gordon gave him a solid whack on the head with a pillow.

"What was that for!?" Scotsman spluttered indignantly.

"Birthday greetings, we used to do it every time our siblings had a birthday," Gordon smirked at him. "Just be glad that it wasn't my little brother Griffin. The side of your head would be entirely red if he woke you up."

Scotsman grumbled and sat up annoyed and glaring at the man who watched him expectantly.

"And why have you decided to wake me up in such a way?" He grumbled annoyed.

"Because I wanted to cook you the best breakfast you'll ever have in your entire life for your build day," Gordon said and Scotsman stared at him.

"I- um- thank-you, Gordon?" Scotsman said still confused and annoyed. He found that this stupid human body did not like being woken up so abruptly and so violently. "I'll only have it if you promise not to do that ever again."

"Ah damn, you got me there," Gordon smiled at him. "Well, regardless I still want to make something special for the world-famous Flying Scotsman."

"Thank you Gor- is there something else I can call you? I'm going to get confused with my own brother otherwise," Scotsman admitted embarrassed.

"Sure, you can call me Bello," Gordon grinned and Scotsman glared at him.

"I'm not calling you that, I'm not an idiot," Scotsman glared at him.

"Fine, fine, Gordy it is," Gordon huffed waving his hands at him annoyed. "If you come down to eat and my food is cold, I'm going to be livid."

Scotsman watched as Gordy left the bedroom, pointing at him rudely to which Scotsman rolled his eyes.

He honestly didn't mind it though, Gordy reminded him of how he liked to tease and poke Gordon all the time. It was very different from being on the receiving end for once.

As Scotsman readied himself he found himself staring out the window at the expansive grounds and over at the engine sheds that sat on the far end of the property.

Gordon had not responded well to the revelation that North was still alive and as a human. Last night he had gone on a complete rant in front of the Gresley family and Sir Nigel until Olivia had managed to calm him.

All the while, Scotsman had stood next to Sir Nigel his mind numb and blank. He didn't know how to respond or act to the drama. He simply said nothing, exhausted and tired of everything until Gordy had pulled him towards one of the family cars. He'd quickly found the rest of the night a blur, he was exhausted from the journey.

He would have to go and talk to Gordon and Sir Nigel. He glanced at the door to his guest room. He felt his heart raced as he thought of the fact that Great Northern was in the same building somewhere. The last time he had seen him had been that time he had been delayed at Grantham.

He remembered the way Great Northern had spoken to him. Weary, old, broken.

Part of him wanted to confront him, the other half wanted to never see him again.

He pushed his feelings down and straighten his collar, glaring at himself in the mirror, his young-looking face and brilliant green eyes staring back at him. He had been called handsome by a few people, even by some strangers while out with Oscar or Olivia.

Regardless of his desire to return to his engine and be proper once again, he couldn't help but like the way this form looked.

Even Sir Gresley had told him he was handsome which had certainly boosted his confidence.

He frowned realising something. Sir Gresley had said that he couldn't communicate with Great Northern because he wasn't dead. Then how was it possible for Sir Gresley to communicate with him when he wasn't dead? Something wasn't adding up.

Was it because of the rebuild Thompson had given him? Or was it because of something else?

Godred had never said anything about Ghosts and called him a delusion fool. And yet Olivia, Stainer and Sir Robert had believed him. The City of Truro had believed him. None of them had even questioned or doubted his words about being able to communicate with ghosts.

He frowned to himself.

Something was going on here. There was something he was missing.

What was wrong with him?

"I must apologise for my behaviour last night," Gordon said as he saw the A4 Sir Nigel wearily come to. "It was undignified of me, especially in front of such an important engine as yourself and on the grounds of the Gresley manor."

The A4 Pacific chuckled to himself warmly.

"No harm done my dear Gordon, I was honestly expecting Scotsman to have that reaction, not yourself," he said kindly. "And I'm just important in the eyes of British Railways engines, a Sudrian such as yourself need not worry yourself with our customs."

Gordon gazed at the sleepy-looking A4 before looking at his buffers.

"It was still embarrassing of me to act the way that I did," he admitted blushing. "I said some very nasty things about Great Northern."

"Considering how North has acted in the past, I'm honestly not surprised," Sir Nigel said. "The way he spoke about you was very unkind, although, he does not speak of you that way anymore. He has expressed regret at the way he acted in the past."

Gordon frowned and didn't look convinced but Sir Nigel didn't seem offended.

"How long have you known about North and the whole Gold Dust thing?" Gordon asked curiously.

"Since Sir Nigel Gresley deemed Great Northern as an unworthy guardian of his legacy," Sir Nigel said. "Great Northern was supposed to watch over the future of the railway but he never reached Sir Gresley's approval and so the guardianship was given to Silver Link and then passed on to me after it became apparent that my personality and ambition were the same as his."

"Great Northern failed to reach Sir Gresley's standards?"

"The old man was a perfectionist, you remember," Sir Nigel pointed out. "I think North drove himself into the ground trying to please him. He was caught between trying to wrangle Scotsman into what our designer wanted him to be and to let Scotsman be himself I think. North doesn't talk about it anymore."

"North was nice to me in the beginning," Gordon said quietly. "Until Sir Gresley ordered him to not get attached to me and then he started insulting and being nasty towards me."

"That's North, he was desperate to please his designer and the LNER directors until he was rebuilt and rejected by his class," Sir Nigel mused. "He started to give up after his rebuild. It was quite sad to see. Rarely spoke to anyone, and avoided everyone at all costs. My brother took a particular liking to bullying him I recall."

"I'm very glad I was sold to Sodor," Gordon said quietly.

"Yes, I believe it saved you from being scrapped my dear Gordon," Sir Nigel sighed and glanced up at the skylight. "The 60s were absolute hell for locomotives."

"The Beeching Axe?"

Sir Nigel hissed angrily at the mention of the accused man's name.

"We don't say his name on the mainland, Mr Gordon sir," Sylvia squeaked beside Gordon. "His name invokes pain and terror in us."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset either of you," Gordon quickly apologised.

Sir Nigel coughed and looked away from Gordon. "Just don't mention that name to any engines, is all I ask."

"I'll be more tactful," Gordon said. "No more mentions of that horrid man."

"We'd appreciate that," Sir Nigel said with a forced smile.

"Do you think North and Scotsman will make up?" Sylvia suddenly asked Sir Nigel. "Especially if Scotsman finds North's collection."

"Collection?" Gordon asked, confused.

"North obsessively collects stuff about Flying Scotsman now," Sylvia explained. "It's massive. He's been doing it for over 50 years. Every time Scotsman would go out on tour, North would try and see him."

'But I thought North hated Scotsman!" Gordon spluttered confused.

Sir Nigel sighed.

"North is complicated," he explained. "As I said he was trapped between pleasing our designer and wanting to be a good brother. North took a lot of responsibility for Scotsman. He could never please Sir Gresley and he could never be a good brother. I think that hurt him the most, realising how much his actions hurt Scotsman."

Sir Nigel gazed at Gordon sadly.

"It took Scotsman finally snapping at him and letting Thompson rebuild him and being rejected by all his siblings for him to realise," he explained. "I think the collection is his way of showing how proud he is of your brother. It's his obsession. The only good thing he has left."

Gordon said nothing, he just looked at his buffers sadly.

"Do you think that Scotsman will forgive him if he's asked?" Sir Nigel asked, curious.

Gordon looked over at him before frowning.

"I honestly don't know. I only know about their relationship from what Scott has told me and it wasn't pleasant," Gordon admitted.

"I guess, we'll just have to wait," Sir Nigel said quietly.

Scotsman found himself poking around the Gresley Manor after Lady Jaqueline and some of her excitable servants had finished bombarding him was questions and presents for his build day.

He was grateful, but celebrating his build day like this was odd and uncomfortable. Oh, how he wished he was back in his engine and not in this squishy thing of a body.

He didn't know how Great Northern had put up with it for so many years.

He paused as he tested the door knob of the door he was trying to open.

Maybe he wanted to find North and confront him right away.

Or maybe, he wanted to find out some of his designer's secrets. Perhaps some answers. Perhaps even something of his brothers and sisters.

Just even a nameplate would be grand. Something that meant that not all of them had been lost to time.

Finding several doors he moved on to the next.

Olivia had told him not to be too nosy but he was a curious and silly thing. Being nosy was Green Arrow's thing, not his.

But this was different. This place had been his designer's residence. He wanted something to remind him of the old man, of the old days, when he had many siblings when things were good.

He found himself growing frustrated and annoyed. There had to be something Sir Gresley had kept of them, just something, anything.

Finding another door locked he didn't realise just how annoyed he was and barged into the next door with his shoulder.

Unfortunately, this door had been open and it gave way with a loud click and he found himself falling into the room with a loud indignant yelp of pain.

He tumbled to the floor and sat there dazed for a moment. He heard footsteps in the distance and his face turned bright red as he realised how much he had embarrassed himself.

He moved to pick himself up but froze as his eyes suddenly caught on the room around him.

It was filled with models of all makes, posters from the LNER, photographs of his engine and even he noticed, a display case with one of his old crank pins.

"What the hell?" He mumbled, confused.

He was suddenly aware of a person that had come up to him but seemed frozen in place as they stared at him.

He tore his eyes away from the collection and looked straight up at the man who Sir Nigel had introduced as North.

Picking himself off the floor with a grunt he straightened himself to his full height. He was a lot taller than North he observed, though North was stocky and muscular with a head of reddish brown hair and a thick beard.

The last time Scotsman had spoken to him had been at Grantham, all those decades ago.

The man before him looked tired, broken, and old. There was no fire in those deep green eyes at all. But North did seem to be nervously waiting for the Scotsman to speak.

Instead of speaking Scotsman ignored the man and gazed around at the collection with a critical eye, North stepping out of his way as he brushed past and watched Scotsman intently.

Scotsman gazed around finding pictures, photos, models and news articles of himself and his history. There were DVDs and VHS tapes of documentaries of his trips to America and Australia.

The sheer volume of the collection was vast, to say the least. Scotsman honestly found it slightly disturbing.

"Such a large collection for someone you showed such dislike towards," Scotsman commented.

If North reacted, Scotsman didn't see it as he was turned away his eyes caught on his old red and gold name plate with several others including Solario's, Doncaster's and surprisingly Great Northern's own.

"I don't… dislike you," North mumbled. "I never disliked you."

"No, no, you just constantly made me feel bad about myself out of love I'm sure," Scotsman sneered. "The first decades of my life feeling so lonely sure made me feel loved."

"It was more complicated than that," North tried to explain. "I wanted to help you."

"Help me?" Scotsman said incredulously. He spun on his heel and rounded on North, towering over the man who cowered before him. "Help me? You did nothing but belittle me. Every time I achieved something great you just dismissed me! Gordon did it too but never to the level you did! You always made me feel worthless!"

North stepped back away from Scotsman and stared at the ground.

"I wanted to be proud of you but Sir Gresley-"

"Enough!" Scotsman snapped angrily. "I don't care what Sir Gresley did or said! You could have decided to be a good brother to me but you didn't!"

"I'm sorry," North said, gazing up at the Scotsman. "I truly am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me, Sir Gresley didn't let me-"

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" Scotsman snapped. "You had a choice and you decided to treat me like you did! I was just like the rest of our siblings! Why couldn't you just lay off of me!?"

"You're not like the rest of our siblings," North said. "You were special. You were far more important than the rest of us."

"Yeah well, I sure didn't feel like it," Scotsman snapped angrily. Realising he was riling himself up he took a breath to calm himself and sighed.

"Whatever this collection thing is, I don't care," Scotsman said, waving a dismissive hand to the collection around him. "It's your thing, it's maybe you trying to ease your consciousness or whatever. But please just stay away from Gordon, your presence upsets him."

North nodded. "I can certainly do that for you."

Scotsman was surprised at North's compliance. North gestured to the collection around them.

"The collection is my way of showing how proud of you I am," He said with a slight smile. "For what my word is worth, I truly am sorry for my past behaviour, Flying Scotsman. If I could make it up to you in any way, I would gladly do so."

Scotsman looked his elder brother up and down with a critical eye before turning away from him and moving to leave without another word.

"I truly am sorry, Flying Scotsman," he heard North say quietly behind him. "I hope one day that you will forgive me."

The Scotsman said nothing, merely leaving the room with a look back at Great Northern and not saying a single word.

North just stood staring into space for the longest time before he eventually walked over and closed the door to his study as quietly as he could.

"Great Northern!" Sir Gresley called to the young engine. Said engine immediately directed its attention to the designer.

"Yes sir! At your service sir!" The young engine piped up eager to please. Sir Gresley however looked pensive.

Flying Scotsman observed this strange memory. He had no idea how he was seeing North's memories or why but he didn't like it.

"I need your complete and utter reassurance, Great Northern, that nothing of what I am about to show you will ever find its way beyond these doors," Sir Gresley ordered, his tone taking on a seriousness that North had rarely ever heard.

"Yes sir, no one must know sir," North said obediently.

"Good, now follow these tracks into the underground," he ordered and North followed the winding track down deep into the earth. He was frightened about how he would return to the surface as the incline grew steeper and steeper.

Eventually, he stopped before a pair of huge strange doors which slowly slid open as he approached them.

Inside was a huge circular cavernous space with an enormous round well at its centre. It was a huge stone well that was covered by a metal door that was ornate and had bizarre carvings within it.

The Scotsman felt a chill go through his spine as he realised what it was.

It was a golden well, like the one in Ulfstead Castle.

He froze as he saw an empty soulless engine huge hung on a hoist over the well, brand new, the paint on it completely fresh and had the number 4472 written on its buffer beam.

It was his own engine before they had given him his sentience.

"Who is that sir?" North asked, staring up at the soulless engine. "Is this another of my siblings like Banbury?"

"Yes, this will be your newest youngest sibling," Sir Gresley said. "Hopefully this time, you will be able to retain your memories of what happened here."

"What do you mean sir?" North asked concerned.

"This is the fourth time we have tried this," Sir Gresley sounded frustrated. "Hopefully this engine will be able to handle the Gold Dust infusion better."

"Infusion sir? I don't understand," North asked confused. "I've seen other engines come into sentience before sir. You use a small amount of Gold Dust to give them will and consciousness."

"What we did with yourself, Gordon and Banbury were different," Sir Gresley said with a frown. "See the Gold Dust is a limited source. Other railways failed when their wells dried up and their engines could no longer gain sentience."

"Then why are we different?" North asked.

"Because we want to create a sustainable source of Gold Dust," Sir Gresley said. "An engine that will be able to sustain and produce Gold Dust to keep the well full. Gordon, yourself and Banbury failed. But we know that it can work, the Great Western have succeeded with one of their own engines."

North stared up at the Soulless engine of 4472.

"Why are you showing me this?" North asked, unnerved by the shell of 4472 hanging in the air above the well.

"Because if this works, 4472 will require protection," Sir Gresley said. "Even if it costs your own soul."

North stared at Sir Gresley nervously.

"Yes sir," he said.

North frowned, suddenly confused by a sense of deja vu.

"You've told me this before sir," he said and Sir Gresley nodded.

"Yes, I told you the same thing when Banbury was put through this same process," Sir Gresley explained. "It however failed. Banbury did not connect directly to the well and simply became another engine like yourself."

Great Northern looked nervously at the well as the memories of Banbury coming into sentience flashed across his mind. There was screaming, so much screaming. Great Northern flinched and looked away from the well, the memory disturbing him.

It was so unlike the joyous occasion that a new engine received when its face appeared on its smokebox door. Being infused with the Gold Dust was invasive, terrifying and painful. Extremely painful.

North remembered his very first moments of existence. It had felt like his entire engine was melting in a huge cauldron of molten metal. He didn't wish that on anyone at all. He still had nightmares about the experience it was so horrible.

Sir Gresley didn't seem to notice his engine's distress and walked over to the edge of the well where engine 4472 hung silent, cold and still.

"The engine who succeeds I will give them the Flying Scotsman," Sir Gresley said as he reached out and touched 4472's buffer.

North looked suddenly angry.

"But sir, you promised me the Flying Scotsman!" He argued and Sir Gresley turned and glared at North. North immediately blushed at his designer's glare.

"I did not mean offence sir." He quickly stated. "But you promised me the Flying Scotsman Express Service in exchange for passing my performance trials."

"You performed well Great Northern," Sir Gresley said curtly. "But it was not good enough. The Gold Dust has a stronger presence in you I will admit, it made me consider you for the role, but it wasn't enough. I expected more from you as I do all my engines. The engine that becomes infused with the Gold Dust will be held to an even higher standard than you are."

"Yes sir," North said, upset. He looked back up at 4472. He wanted to be hopeful for his newest little brother. "I think 4472 will succeed sir. It seems like it will be the best of us, sir."

Sir Gresley looked back up at 4472's empty shell. "An engine to last 100 years and beyond that," he declared. "I expect you to hold 4472 to the highest standard, Great Northern. If 4472 does not perform or behave well, I will hold you accountable for its actions."

"But sir, 4472 will be his own engine," North argued but Sir Gresley glared at him. "I am hardly responsible for the actions of another engine. He will have his own thoughts and desires."

"Enough, I will not take any more of your insubordination," he snapped at the engine who appeared to cower in his designer's presence. "You are responsible for 4472 if he succeeds in this process. I expect you to curb any errant behaviour and give your soul up for him should the need arise."

Great Northern didn't look happy but didn't say anything to argue for himself.

"Yes sir," he said very reluctantly.

Gresley turned from him and motioned to several of his men working nearby.

"Open the well! Lower 4472 into the well!" He called and the men proceeded to work quickly.

Slowly, the empty shell began to lower as the well was opened.

Almost instantaneously the gold dust gripped onto the engine and began to cover every inch of it, shocking Sir Gresley and the men who flinched at the brightness and shielded their eyes.

"It's working!" Sir Gresley cried out, ignoring the searing heat that the Gold Dust produced. "Never have I seen the Gold Dust take to an engine so eagerly!"

North was straining his eyes to see and forcing himself to not recoil from the sheer amount of energy in the room.

It hurt so much, it felt like the fire in his firebox was consuming his entire being.

"Sir it's working!" One of Sir Gresley's assistants yelled over the roaring noise of the Gold Dust. "The firebox is producing its own gold dust!"

Sir Hresley clapped in glee. "Wonderful! How wonderful!"

Slowly after a time, the maelstrom of Gold Dust subsided and 4472 sat on its hoist quietly, gold dust streaming off of it like sand, a face having appeared on its smokebox door.

Unlike Banbury, who had awoken screaming in pain, 4472 was silent and still, his face peaceful and calm as if he were simply asleep.

"Lower them down! Lower them down!" Sir Gresley called excitedly.

North had never seen the man so joyful as he was right now. He practically danced as 4472 was lowered on the rails in front of Great Northern.

Great Northern stared at the engine as it began to stir and awaken.

A pair of eyes, shining with glowing gold dust, peered back at him. North gasped in amazement.

4472 blinked rapidly and the gold faded and two normal-looking eyes stared back at North, confused and dazed.

"Hello," the new engine greeted Great Northern in front of him.

"Hello," North replied with an awkward smile. "I'm Great Northern."

"Hello Great Northern," 4472 said. "I'm…"

4472 looked confused for a second.

"I am… Lady? No, that's not right," 4472 muttered under his breath. "I'm a big engine not… a small engine. How odd. My memories are… strange."

North looked confused at the new engine, gold dust still shining in its eyes. How could it have memories if it had only existed for a few seconds?

"My dear wonderful engine! My most pleasant greetings!" Sir Gresley greeted his new engine, jumping onto its running board and startling it.

"Where am I? Who are you?" The engine asked, its voice suddenly changed from what it had been a second ago, now sounding more masculine and deep.

The gold dust had disappeared from its eyes and it now seemed to wake from its trance and begin to act frightened and confused.

North stared at the new engine numbly. He then suddenly looked straight at Flying Scotsman's future human form who was watching with fear and confusion.

"Scotsman? How did you get into my memory?"

Almost instantly the veil snapped and Scotsman found himself instantly awake in his bed, trembling violently as his eyes glowed with gold dust.

The yards of Didcot Railway were silent, save for the little Saddle Tank Trojan who was happily shunting coaches in the yard after the big engines had finished their lines for the day. He heard one of the larger engines roll up behind him and stop to watch him.

He looked over and saw that it was Pendennis Castle who was smiling at him.

"It's good to see you back on the rails Trojan," he greeted and Trojan rolled his eyes at him.

"That's what you all say but you always complain about me getting in your way," the engine grunted in a Welsh accent as he shunted a line of coaches into a siding.

"I don't complain about you," Pendennis said.

"The Twins do," Trojan huffed.

"Yes well, they are named after Kings so it's to be expected, you know?" Pendennis pointed out. "They don't mean any harm. They're grumpy old men. Especially Number One."

"Yeah well, they need to get the sticks outta their axles or I'm gonna start complaining to the bossman," The Saddle Tank grumbled to himself.

"At least Lady treats you well I guess?"

Trojan blushed and didn't answer. Pendennis smirked.

"The young lass has charmed you I see, how sweet," Pendennis teased and Trojan snorted.

"Ah can it ya Australian Pest," Trojan snapped and Pendennis just laughed at that.

Both engines suddenly stopped talking as the sound of a loud steam engine approaching suddenly began to echo across the fields and hills. The engine sounded loud and had a distinct roar to it.

"I thought I was the last one out today," Trojan said gruffly. "All you big engines don't work as late as me."

"Maybe we have a late visitor?" Pendennis suggested, curious.

It was highly unusual to have an engine arrive so late without any warning. It usually only happened if an engine was arriving for an event the next day.

They watched as a huge express engine suddenly appeared through their own smoke with a purposeful stroke of their gear.

"It's Tornado," Pendennis frowned and rolled up to meet her with Trojan close behind.

"Ms Tornado? What are you doing here at Didcot?" Pendennis asked as she stopped before them.

"I need your help, PenPen," Tornado said hurriedly. "And any Great Westerns you can spare."

"Why? What ever for Young Lass?" Trojan grumbled at her.

"It's City of Truro, he's in danger and we haven't got much time," Tornado panted as she hissed steam. Clearly, she had stormed her entire way across the mainland to get to them in record time.

"I think you should speak to the Twins," Trojan said as he and Pendennis glanced at one another worried.

Dear lord these chapters are getting longer.

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