Much thanks to the many good readers and reviewers out there!
Oh, quickly to respond to a comment. Arseyman (And no, for those wondering, that's his user name, I'm not randomly calling a guy a arse), I'm actually glad someone picked up on that! Season 1 is close to my heart but I think Season 2 may be my favorite, mostly because it's got so many great episodes! Plus, the Duck and Diesel trilogy's a ton of fun, and it allowed me to actually begin hinting at a bit more of a over-arching plot (Stay with me on this.). Hope you're having a fun time reading!
And now, with that in mind, opening theme!
...
Miss Allcroft, Ringo and I think this could be the start of something great! Can we get Diesel back? He'd make a great villain- What?
Do you want me to-
Yeah yeah! What do you mean, he's not allowed back on the Island!? Oh, someone found something out about him? ...Okay. Shoot.
...
Duck the Great Western Engine puffed sadly towards Edward's station. As he crossed the viaduct, he became slightly tempted to throw himself over the side and just end it all. He was prevented from this only by his driver and fireman, who were already cursing up a storm about Diesel and what they would do to his crew when next they saw them.
If they ever did.
Duck was interrupted by this thought as he arrived at the entrance to Wellsworth. Edward was already there, having gotten up bright and early.
"Hello there, Duck was it?" Edward puffed forward. "So...no one's telling me much, save that you're to work with me for a while...mind filling me in?"
"Oh, it's just not fair!" Duck complained. He snapped back to professional mode. "God, I didn't think I'd get this involved. At all."
"Involved?"
"Gah, ignore me. You know Diesel?"
"Not personally." Edward had met Duck a total of two times, once when taking Thomas to the works, and once when they had been forced to share the sheds. He seemed a pleasant enough chap, even though he knew that he held some secrets, and he took Thomas's warning that Duck was concerned about Diesel seriously as a result.
"He's been telling lies about me. And he's made the Fat Controller and all the engines think I'm horrid!" Duck shook his head. "You know, if it wasn't me he had done it to, I might even go as far to say that I admire him."
Edward smiled. In doing so, he held eye contact with Duck. The two engines stared each other down, each testing the other, each seeing if the other was friend or foe. At last, Edward's smile grew bigger. "Well I can tell you aren't. And for all the jokes, so will the Fat Controller. You just wait and see."
"I don't like not having anything to do." Duck admitted.
"Then help me out with these trucks."
...
For most of the day, Duck was happy to work with Edward, and he set to work at once. The yard had been left in disarray following a drunken fight between two yellow tank engines, who looked as though they were going to mock Duck, only for Edward to glare and send them scurrying away. After tidying that up, Duck assisted the number 2 with sending trucks and coaches to the right places.
But every time he passed Gordon, Henry and James, they ignored each other.
He tried to get a word from Percy, but even that was difficult. Percy was constantly looking worried at him, as if Duck was pulling strings. Thomas was cordial enough, and Toby was nowhere to be seen.
Which was odd, now that Duck thought about it-
"Ah! Here we are." Edward gestured to a final train of trucks. "Mind acting as the back engine?"
They started on their way, passing through the Suddery Junction with good time to spare. Duck enjoyed the sun as it beat down on his paintwork, even though he felt a little unnerved in having to deal with, for the first time, a brakevan with a face. And not a pleasant one at that.
Eventually, they reached Gordon's Hill, which had recently taken on a more autumnal color scheme since the last time the camera crew had been there. The trucks were silly, heavy and noisy, so not much different than usual. The two engines had to work their socks off, pushing and pulling them around for what passed for the afternoon.
And at last, they reached the top of the hill.
"Well-" Edward said with delight. "That's that. I'm to leave these trucks here, according to the station master. You can go and take a wander round the Island if you want." He said this with casualness, but Duck caught the in joke of his sight seeing.
Grinning ruefully, Duck rolled off. "Goodbye!" he whistled, and rolled gently over the crossing to the line.
Duck loved the feeling of coasting down the hill, running easily with the wind whistling past. Especially as he hadn't exercised in so long. As he reached the Suddery Junction, he slowed down to examine the tracks. This was one section of the line he hadn't been on. His fireman snapped a few pictures, but suddenly, he heard a sound he didn't expect to hear.
It was a guard's warning whistle.
Curiously, he peered forward (Even though he knew that the sound was coming from behind him, it did no harm to check) and then back. "Funny...we haven't a guard!"
The driver looked back. "OH FLIPPING HECK!" He shouted, and shook the fireman's shoulders. "Barry! Full steam! There's a runaway!"
...
"Hurrah! Hurrah hurrah!" laughed the truck leaders. Diesel had placed them exactly in the right position, with the Old Box Van in front, it could give the other trucks a extra burst of strength as they raced down the hill towards Duck. "We've broken away! We've broken away!"
Duck started quickly and began driving as fast as he could. But even now he could hear the hideous cackles of the Renegade Brake Van and the cries from both Open Top and the Deputy. "CHASE HIM! BUMP HIM! THROW HIM OFF THE RAILS!"
"Hurry Duck, hurry!" said the driver.
"What do you think I'm doing?!" Duck shouted back, feeling that feeling of panic rise up in his boiler again. Twice in one week, this was not natural for him. He raced through Edward's station, and had cleared the platform in seconds. But the trucks were catching up, at such a speed that even the most eagle eyed trainspotter would have just seen a blur.
Duck spotted a junction. "There! We can lose them in there!" As he whirled around, he felt his wheels briefly leave the rails for a minute and praying for a miracle, he kept as still as he could. Luckily, he landed back on the rails and continued on, but it had cost him precious time, and the trucks were coming nearer and nearer to him.
He stared in horror at the old ruins of the castle, but swallowed it down. Without realizing it, he had been switched onto the loop line and was heading back to Edward's station.
"As fast as we can!" shouted his fireman. "And then they'll catch us gradually!"
Duck grimly acknowledge this, as he reached Wellsworth once again. And this time, even though they knew what was coming, the signalman couldn't change the points. The trucks were now within coupling distance of Duck.
With a sudden jolt of the points changing, both Salt and Cattle Wagons rammed forward and the brake-van was jammed into Duck's back. "We've got him!" crowed Open Top.
The driver was gaining control as they thundered over the viaduct. "Another clear mile and we'll do it!"
"The crossword?" asked his fireman, who had taken a bump to the head.
"OH GLORY! LOOK AT THAT!" Duck shouted in thunderstruck horror.
James was pulling out on their line at the Crosby station ahead. And judging from the speed he was going at, not only was he trying to give the tourists something to look at, but he was also needing water. And at any minute (But particularly those in the next three minute bracket) there could be a crash.
Duck's mind was filled with bloodstained corpses, and he, would be responsible.
"It's up to you now Duck!" cried the driver as he slammed the brake lever down. Duck put every ounce of weight and steam he had against the trucks.
"Phew, need a little top me up." James said cheerfully as he took a long draught of alcohol from the water tank. Why was there alcohol in the water tank? Because the filler was drunk.
Duck's wheels were jammed firmly on the rails, but even so, they wouldn't stop turning. Sparks flew from the sleepers, and Duck could feel his brakeblocks catching fire, even if just for a second. He was almost under the bridge, and he felt as though he was going to give out completely. The trucks were laughing away, and with horror, Duck realized that they didn't care what happened as long as they got someone. His eyes were filled with the back of James's coaches, red filled his vision and even as he desperately felt his side rods buckle and his whistle strain with the amount of blowing, he realized with gradual panic that it wasn't going to be enough.
"It's too late!" he groaned, and shut his eyes in the vain hope that maybe he wouldn't be able to remember it. Suddenly, he felt the points switch and he veered into a siding.
Duck's fireman had launched himself onto the platform at the last minute, and had startled the signalman into changing the points.
The siding was where the Italian Barber had set up shop. He was shaving a customer.
"So, how's-a the stock exchange treating-a you!"
"Not too bad." muttered Jerimiah Jobling, almost unrecognizable. The Italian Barber turned to get some more lather, and stared open mouthed at the sight of Duck's terrified face rushing towards him.
"GET DOWN!" Duck screamed as he saw the white wall of the barber shop approaching. His last thought before slamming head first into it was 'Who on earth would be so stupid as to put a barber's on the end of a rail?'
The impact shook the building, not to mention the huge engine shaped hole in the front.
...
"A, nothing like a good old fashioned crossword!" Thomas turned to Percy. "Hey, what's a five letter word for a accident?"
"CRASH!"
"Thank you." Thomas started as he looked for the source of the sound. James rushed in, sans coaches and sans, it appeared, his sanity.
"Duck! BARBER SHOP! TRUCKS! DISASTER! MOTHER! HELP!"
Gasps greeted this. Sir Topham turned. "Thomas, get the brakedown train. If you're lucky, you can assist that poor engine. James, Percy, you will follow on soon enough. I wish to talk to all of you before we go."
"Er...right?" Thomas took off.
Diesel, having quietly been sidling away, was suddenly stopped by a sharp feeling in his wheels. He glanced back, and there was-
"Toby, good man, bring him forward." Hatt smiled serenely as Toby pushed the diesel forward. "Now...let's clear something up right away. Duck is, and never has, been the result of any insults or nicknames or collusion with the trucks."
"Wha-" Gordon gasped. "But...But you sent him away!"
"To get him out of the way and for his own safety, which has clearly failed, so that the real culprit could be lured into a false sense of security." Hatt looked at Diesel. "Well well...I can't believe it took me this long to put the pieces together."
"What do you mean sir?" wheeled Diesel desperately.
"A number of things. I never suspected Duck, and as bad as most of my engines-" He glared at the three large ones in particular "-can be, spreading rumors is not something I believe them to do. To trucks, that is." Hatt smiled. "Toby overheard. And he has had no reason to lie to me since he never met you in person." A growl emitted from Diesel, but was stifled by the sudden changed on the Fat Controller's expression. "Diesel, if you are wise, you'll shut it...as I say. This accelerated the discovery, but I had already started...see, my contacts on the other railway sent me information that a BR Class 08 matching your description was reported missing."
Silence now. No responses from anyone.
"That's right. Missing. Not stolen. Because the crew, the very specialist crew who know how to work you, were still in their homes, baffled as all hell. And then Edward told me something earlier that fitted another possible idea..."
"You-"
"Diesel, I don't doubt you are really named Diesel. Or that you are a genuine shunter diesel that would have come to my railway at some point. I do, however, cast aspirsions on you having been here before. At least in your current form." Hatt looked stern. "All those veiled references of you being here before and seeming familiar gave you away...Diesel. Or should I call you by your real name?
Marklin."
There was a huge number of gasps.
"Marklin was reported, on the last few days of 1984, arriving at a known knock-off works. Apparently, he was preparing to gain a new identity, perhaps as a steam engine, perhaps as a diesel...but something went wrong. The workers weren't exactly great at fixing things, and they made a bad situation worse." Hatt pulled out a series of pictures. A black tank engine, gutted like a fish, lying on the ground with a horrified expression on his face. "And so Marklin died. But according to the sheds, he haunted the area until it was closed. And thus, we come to my personal theory...you made your way to the Other Railway. After a time, you heard the news that a second series of the documentary, the one that airbrushed you out once we found out just how much you were behind the problems of that year, was being made. And you knew we needed more engines."
Diesel was silent.
"So then, you took control of Diesel. You stole away, because you didn't need a driver nor a fireman to help steer you as in the old days. You posed as a engine to be delivered, you got to the Island, and you lay low...you spied and took note of all the changes. And then you presented yourself to me...and you fooled nearly all of us."
Diesel raised a eyebrow. "Well, it's a fun theory. Adds a lot of loose ends together. I must congratulate you, FAT CONTROLLER, you'd make a excellent novelist...but it's all a load of bull of course." But he was twitching,
"Well then Diesel." Edward said calmly. "Explain this to us...where has your crew been?"
There was a tranquil silence...and then Diesel EXPLODED.
"YOU THINK YOU'RE SO SMART DON'T YOU!? YOU IDIOTS THINK THAT YOU'RE TOP OF THE RAILS, DON'T YOU!? Your time is over, you're old fashioned relics of the past! You replaced me over and over again! You demeaned me repeatedly by making me clean up your messes! So what if I tried to ruin your lives, you only succeeded in ruining mine!" He frothed. "Ohhh the pain I went through! The unimaginable agony of being torn apart and put back together in such a shoddy way! You will know, except you won't come back! My hate is stronger than all of you combine! I will NOT DIE!"
"No." Hatt's face was cold as ice. "And I doubt that we have seen the last of you. But let the diesel go. I can tell you're struggling. Look at you."
Marklin was shaking. "No no nonono!"
"You're getting angry, Marklin...I don't believe that you can haunt this Island for too long...I imagine that my old friend Vicar Teddy will be along soon. Ready to banish you."
There was a hiss, and suddenly Diesel's eyes rolled back into his head. And then, his mouth opened and thick black smoke poured out. The engines screamed, and Edward puffed forward.
Marklin was staring at them. Even now the smoke was being ripped apart, cast to the wind. "I will NEVER give up! I will be back! You have not seen the last of ME!"
And then he was gone.
Teddy stepped outside. "Is that taken care of, Sir Topham?"
"Indeed Vicar. I thank you." Hatt smiled. "Didn't even suspect that he was being slowly exorcised."
"But-" Gordon's expression was that of a man who has just discovered that his wife is in fact a male fish. Henry's eyes had glazed over, James was staring open mouthed and Percy was just boggled.
"The Island has a history of ghosts. Be it the narrow gauge engine that fell to his death, to the scrapped engine haunting the yards...it's not too hard to imagine once you've learned those legends." Hatt walked onto James. "Edward, when he awakens, send Diesel back to the mainland with my deepest apologies...now. To see if Duck is all right."
...
Duck, meanwhile, had woken up.
On the plus side, he was not dead.
On the minus, he felt he soon wished he would be.
The silly trucks had knocked their guard off his van, and left him far behind even after whistling a warning. But the trucks didn't care, they felt very pleased with themselves. The Brake-Van's face had been crushed inwards, both Open Top and the Deputy had been derailed to such a extent that it was clear they would never ride the rails again, Salt had twisted inside out, Cattle was on the verge of collapsing and even the Old Box Van looked as though it's wheels had been torn apart.
And when they heard Duck cough out a "I'm alive!" they felt themselves shrink.
No more flawless reputation for them.
"Beg pardon sir." said Duck casually. "Scuse my intruding."
"NO! I-A WON'T!" shouted the barber flamboyantly. "You have frigthened-a my customers!"
Jobling's expresison indicated that he was more concerned with the bad haircut he had recieved than the train in the wall.
"I'LL-A FIX YOU!" And he lathered Duck's face all over. Poor Duck looked like a drunk Santa.
...
Soon, Thomas arrived to clear the trucks away, and then the Fat Controller came to the door.
"I-A WILL NOT HAVE-A ENGINES POPPING THROUGH-A MY-A WALL!" fumed the barber passionately.
"I understand and appreciate your feelings." Hatt picked up a soup can and looked into it in interest. "And we shall pay for the damage. But you must know this. This engine, and it's crew, have done what many have thought impossible. They've stopped the deadliest trucks on the Island from claiming any more victims. And in doing so, they've prevented a very serious accident, and prevented deaths of fellow humans. It was a very close, um, shave."
Duck groaned visibly.
"Oh." The barber frowned. "OH! EXCUSE-A ME!" He filled a waterbasin. "This-a will sting."
"What will-" Duck screamed as the cold water washed his face.
"I'm sorry. I didn't-a know you were being a brave engine."
"That's all right sir." said Duck honestly "I didn't know that either."
"You were very brave." Hatt praised. "I'm so proud of you." He sighed. "Dear god it's been a long day."
...
The Fat Controller watched the rescue operation, if Thomas dragging Duck back could be considered one. Then he had more news. "Soon as you are properly mended, you're coming home."
"Home sir? You mean...the yard?"
"Where else?"
"But sir. They don't like me...they like Diesel."
"Not now." Hatt hesitated, and then realized that the truth right now would be too complicated for him. "I never believed Diesel and sent him packing. The engines are sorry and want you back."
...
A few days later, when he came home, he was greeted with a rousing welcome of whistles...for Duck the Great Western Engine.
And things, for the moment, returned to normal.
...
Marklin roared in anger as he ghostly paced back and forth.
There was a sudden roar of tires, then a screech. A figure dismounted the motorcycle and strode over to the ghost. He removed his helmet and spoke with a American accent.
"Well Marklin...you remember me. PT Boomer's my name. You have a lot of explaining to do.
...
If you are confused...then at some point I'll explain better. And if you think that there's no reason to include ghosts, go back to Season 5...I'm building up to that as well. Hope you enjoyed!