"Clear the platform!" The Station Master cried out. "There's an express engine coming in from the mainland that's broken down and suffered an unknown amount of damage."

"Express engine?" Thomas asked, confused. "Is it Caitlin? Or Connor?"

Gordon kept silent but glanced at the empty platform beside him. His brother hadn't arrived on time and was late, something which did very rarely happen. His brother was usually there to greet him annoyingly when he reached Vicarstown but today he hadn't.

A deep unsettling feeling stirred in his boiler.

"Maybe it's the Flying Scotsman!" Thomas gasped and Gordon resisted the urge to yell at him to shut up.

They didn't have to wait long for confirmation however as a few minutes later, a large green engine with two tenders came towards them slowly pulling into the station with it's long line of express coaches.

"Flying Scotsman!" Thomas cried out when he saw the engine. The engine ignored him, clearly in pain and clearly struggling. Thomas couldn't see anything wrong with the Scotsman except for the black smoke and sparkles billowing out of his funnel.

Gordon however gave an involuntary gasp of horror when he saw the Scotsman's left side.

It was mangled and torn, the valve gear looked like it had exploded upwards into the Scotsman's side, no longer attached to his wheels. Part of his cab was torn, his front tender was damaged and his wheels were constantly slipping and giving off a horrible metal screech.

"Brother!" He gasped horrified but the Flying Scotsman didn't seem to hear him, concentrating on getting into the platform and finishing his clearly agonising effort. The Flying Scotsman stopped finally, let out a huge gush of stream in relief before he seemed to be concealing his whimpers of pain.

His passengers all cheered him, despite being delayed, for his dedication to getting them to their destination. The Stationmaster was pleased as well as other people around the station.

His driver and fireman were less than impressed however.

"You're done even more damage to yourself by refusing to be rescued," his driver snapped, assessing the damage. "You could barely build up enough steam to get here during that last leg. You've gone and damaged your boiler now. Is your pride worth more than your health Flying Scotsman?"

"I will not," The Flying Scotsman said with a pained tone through gritted teeth. "Let my passengers down."

"You've arrived late, you ridiculous engine!" His fireman scolded and Gordon felt angry at that. He was about to defend his brother when the StationMaster and the Fat Controller stepped up.

"I think it's very admirable of your engine to have risked damaging itself for the sake of it's passengers," the Fat Controller cut in. "I doubt he did it for pride and instead felt it his duty to his passengers."

His fireman and driver looked shocked for a second but then faltered, realising he was right.

"The Flying Scotsman has a history of pulling through the worst of things," the Fireman relented with a soft smile. "It's just frustrating with how stubborn he is to deal with at times. Especially when it results in hurting himself more than he has to."

The Flying Scotsman gave a faint wail of pain as more steam hissed from him. It was clear he was in terrible pain and losing steam rapidly.

"It hurts," he moaned feebly. "Make it stop."

"Sir please," Gordon interrupted the humans conversation. "My brother needs help," he urged them desperately, his concern for his brother clear.

"Right," the Fat Controller said quickly. He saw Thomas and called upon him. "Thomas, get the breakdown train as quick as you can. I will inform Victor that he will have a mainland engine to fix."

"Yes sir!" Thomas quickly moved off to retrieve the breakdown train.

Gordon wanted to stay and watch over his brother but the Express required his attention. He gave a half hearted whistle and pulled away from the station.

He could have sworn he heard his brother call out to him as he departed.


He could feel the energy slowly sapping out of him as his steam slowly left him.

He hadn't noticed the exhaustion when his part of his valve gear had failed at speed and ripped into his body. Thankfully the rods that had bounced up into him hadn't pierced his boiler and caused a far worse catastrophe.

But still, something had clearly damaged something internal inside him and it was slowly draining him of energy.

He had stopped responding to the humans' questions or comments by now and they had started in haste to get him to a steamworks.

The cold was slowly settling in as he began to lose heat.

It wasn't a calming experience as it was at night or when he was put to sleep.

It felt like he was being left out to freeze in a blizzard.

He prefered the pain over whatever this feeling was.

At least, the pain reminded him he was still alive and not an exhibition in a museum.

Panic gripped the Flying Scotsman and suddenly his wheels spun, frightening people around him.

"I am not an exhibit!" He heard himself loudly snap angrily. "I will not be scrapped!"

Without warning he suddenly felt himself violently jerk as if being held in the air and unbalanced.

There were yells and shouts of panic as he felt himself sway before he felt whatever he was being lifted by lower him quickly and he stopped swaying.

Gordon had been there when he came in he remembered, but then, but then, had he left?

"Gordon…" he mumbled weakly. "Where's Gordon?"

He heard people milling around him, voices telling him that he was okay, that they were going to repair him. He couldn't hear Gordon though. He barely heard the people around him, but he was feeling his panic subside.

It was more from the fact he was losing consciousness and the cold was getting unbearable now.

He felt the cold creeping into his smoke box and gave a weak struggle to fight it but found himself falling into the darkness with a terrified scream.


"Flying Scotsman?" Thomas asked the engine as it suddenly became unnervingly quiet. It now hung silent and still, his face no longer pained but expressionless and slowly being drained of colour.

"His firebox must have gone out," Judy noted quietly.

"Poor Engine must have started panicking when he felt the cold settle in," Jerome sympathised and Thomas felt terrible for the large green engine. "Must have thought he was going to be scrapped or preserved."

They hoisted the Flying Scotsman up again, this time with no reaction and carefully placed him on the waiting flatbed pulled by Henry.

His wheels were clamped and he was tied down to the flatbed carefully. His tenders which had been uncoupled were placed on separate flatbeds behind him.

"Slow and steady Henry," the Fat Controller ordered as he climbed into Henry's cab.

"Yes sir," Henry said quietly, slowly moving off with the Scotsman in tow. Thomas followed along behind with Annie and Clarabel, all their faces twisted into one of worry.

"Hello Tornado," A voice called out to her and Tornado was startled awake by her owner greeting her fondly.

"Oh! I'm awake now sir! Sorry sir!" Tornado stammered, still very startled. She looked over to the berth next to her and saw that it was empty. She was surprised. Her big brother was usually back by now and there were no special rail tours he was on.

"I need you to pull the Flying Scotsman's trains tomorrow," her owner said with a sad tone in his voice. "And for the foreseeable future."

"But, but- I can't pull his train! He said he would double head with me, show me the route before I ever went on it!" She squeaked anxiously.

She was a nervous new engine, picked on by the other steamies for being so young and 'not a real steamer' or a Gresley in their eyes. That was until the Flying Scotsman took her under her wing and showed her, her potential, her usefulness.

No one dared bully her when the Flying Scotsman had declared her his little sister. Not even Mallard. Not after the severe beating the Scotsman gave him for calling her a 'fake'.

He was protective of her and she in turn looked up to him. She was almost like his child in a way. She only knew her routes because the Flying Scotsman had doubled headed with her first, teaching her how the signals worked and how to navigate the confusing mess of rails.

"Sir please! I can't do it alone!" She begged and her owner shock his head sadly.

"I have no one else to take his express," he urged her. "The Flying Scotsman's personal crew will take you through the route tomorrow. I've sent notices out warning public there may be delays until you become accustomed to the route."

"But, if his crew will be with me then who-" Tornado stopped and she paled. "Where is my big brother?"

Her owner was silent for a long moment.

"His valve gear malfunctioned at full speed," he said sadly. "It ripped into his left side, damaged part of his boiler and he's currently in repairs on the Island of Sodor. The damage was extensive, I don't know how long it will take to fix it."

Tornado was silent.

She felt like crying at the thought of her big brother hurting.

"Tornado, I know Flying Scotsman isn't here to guide you and you're anxious about this new route but," Her owner paused. "Someone needs to look after his passengers and I can think of no better substitute than you."

"I'll do my best sir," she gave a weak smile through her tear filled eyes.

"I know you will."


Gordon didn't sleep that night. He was awoken many times in the night by seeing constant images of his younger brother's side ripped to shreds.

It disturbed him, more than he would ever admit to.

He glanced at the others, making sure they were asleep before setting out to the Steamworks as silently as he could.

When he got there the steamworks were silent and still.

Gordon never liked the steamworks. They always brought up bad memories of breakdowns and pain.

His brother was on a hoist, held close to the ground his wheels clamped to prevent them from spinning. His face was silent and still, incredibly pale like that of a preserved engine.

A huge tarp was draped over him, hiding the worst of the damage from view.

"Gordon?" Victor asked startling the big engine. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"I, no, I just came to see my brother," Gordon said quietly, not moving his eyes from the Flying Scotsman.

"I see," Victor said, glancing at the Large Green Engine.

"How bad is the damage?" Gordon asked and Victor frowned.

"His boiler will have to be replaced," Victor said sadly. "At first it didn't look too bad, but once we discovered the extent of it, he'll require an overhaul. It's safer to do so, so we don't miss any other damage."

Gordon was heartbroken, but said nothing.

"He'll be alright Gordon," Victor reassured him. "He has an entire crew coming from the mainland to repair him alongside us."

"Has he, woken up?" Gordon asked.

"No," Victor said sadly. "I don't think he will for a while."

Gordon was disheartened but didn't show it to Victor.

"You're welcome to stay the night here Gordon," Victor offered. "I know you care about your brother deeply. Just be sure to not disturb anyone else here."

The smaller engine left as Gordon slid into a track beside his brother.

He stared at his brother for a long while before finding himself drifting off to a dreamless sleep.