Well, hopefully I haven't just driven away most of my audience, and you're all here waiting for the next chapter to start! Or, alternatively, with pitch-forks and torches to lynch me! I'll address any concerns you have in the reviews, but let me just say first off, thank you for understanding my choice in the last chapter. This is probably the only time I'll do something like that. Probably. Maybe. Who knows, really?
AaronCottrell97- I have not a clue! And it's so weird as well! It's not like he even gets a name-check, it's just...he's there! So for whatever reason they dragged his and Daisy's model out of wherever they stored it, but not BoCo, the one who'd make more sense! Not a bloody clue.
Game-Watch- Thanks! Hope I don't let you down!
MattPrice01- Thanks! Yeah, this one isn't one of my favorites either. It's fine, for what it is, and Derek was a character with some potential, but...yeah. Glad you enjoyed not only this but re-reading it all! Hope I keep up the good work!
Reality Rejection Service- Yep. Not going to lie, I'm looking forward to writing his reaction the most.
TrainManiac- Thanks! Don't worry. I have got a plan should he come back, but this was the only way I could write him out and have it mean anything.
Bronze Shield- Thanks! Derek was a hard one to write, so I'm glad he came off well to you! Hope you enjoy this one, I've tried to maintain some level of the spookiness.
Hughie96- Thanks! Very glad you enjoyed! BoCo's character vanishing is weird to me, hence me writing it the way I did. I actually agree with you to some extent, the first five seasons are great and amazing and all that good stuff! Season 6...eh, I have a soft spot for it, for the narration and music and writing, which is still on Season 5 level of humor for me. But you're right, a lot of the changes they made to the models don't look that great. Especially Oliver. I never liked how they gave him the more garish paint. Hope I keep up the high standard!
CUE THE THEME
"Bluebells, bluebells everywhere, and not a drop to...pollinate? I don't know."
"Doing okay, Stepney?"
"Just fan-frigging-tastic, Rusty."
Stepney was still working closely with Rusty the diesel on the Bluebell line. And it was fine, he supposed. It was fine that it felt like it was the millionth time he had traversed this particular piece of track on this day alone.
Since he had been rescued from scrap, he had become steadily bored with just how static the Bluebell Railway was. He'd muster up some energy for whenever the tourists came, of course, but for the most part he had to just grin and bear it as Baxter and Adams argued over whether or not the nose was a necessary design feature on an engine.
It was a good life, he supposed.
But whenever he saw Rusty, it made him a little bit peeved. Rusty's day seemed to be great. It stimulated the mind, as the little diesel told him what they had been up to, and it was fun to watch the idiots get in trouble.
As he arrived back at the shed (An old shack for the time being, as renovations were being done on the main sheds as they were) he was surprised to see that the Fat Controller was there to greet him. Without preamble, he launched into the hard sell. "Rusty tells me you're in need of change again. They went into quite a lot of detail. I've just met Captain Baxter, and I can see why. So, if you want, you can head off and join Toby and Mavis in the quarry. Thanks to BoCo, we're jammed up with trucks there."
"Thanks, sir! Sounds like a laugh. Will I be away long?"
"Well we wanted to use you for our own selfish interests- I mean, give you a break for longer, but the manager says that you'll only have today for that. And you'll need to be back by dark, rumors are that there are some diesels going around nicking body parts like some bloody Burke and Hare tribute act!"
"We will!" said the driver, who crossed his fingers. He wanted to get drunk, go to a bar and get laid. He didn't really care about getting back on time. That was the fun part of the holiday.
...
"So, where are you from?"
"Complicated question, kid." Carlin tried to ignore the fact that he was currently talking to a far younger version of Sir Topham Hatt himself and grabbed hold of Glynn with great strength. The ride was rickety and chaotic, and every time they went round a tight bend, he worried that he was going to be thrown over at great speed. "Originally? Manhatten? Nowadays? ...Hard to tell."
"Always lived here myself! You've heard of the Hatt's, of course?"
"How could I not?"
"Well, my brother is the next in line! He's so amazing! He'll really change things for the better and no mistake!" Topham stared ahead. "Strange, really...I wonder what I'll do with my life when he takes over."
Carlin hesitated. "You're...you'll be fine, kid." To change the subject, he fastened on to something else. "Look, no judgement, but why aren't you out there with the other boys?"
Topham laughed. "Can't. Flat feet. And Lowham can't, because he's...well he's taking care of mother at the moment. So we're both stuck here. Listen, I'll have to drop you off here. The station isn't far from here. Sorry, it's just that...I have to get some stuff for mother."
"I understand. See you around."
And so saying, Carlin watched as his future boss drove Glynn onwards. He waited until he was quite gone, before turning around and taking in his surroundings.
He was at the bottom of a rather steep slope. The line here crossed through an area that lead to what was known to Carlin as Henry's tunnel. He had always seen this large embankment, but had never ventured over it. He knew that not too far from here was the place where Kirk Ronan was to be built. The town was off in the distance. And yet despite that, Carlin had the distinct impression that wherever Benn was, it was to be found over this.
It was a hard climb, and by the end of it, Carlin rolled down the hill swearing he would never mock Gordon again. At the bottom, he noticed a few tracks, one leading to a pair of buffers, and the others leading off into the distance near a cliff. He walked along the line that connected to the buffers, for no real reason other than he felt that was what he should do.
Presently, he came to a small secluded glade. For a moment, a wave of desire to leave this place swept him. But Carlin was nothing if not stubborn, and pushed ahead determinedly.
"BLOODY NORA!" Benn shouted as he entered. "You took your time!"
...
"Bloody hell! These parts would be bloody expensive if we were to sell them on the open market, eh, Bert?"
A grunt.
"Shame, you know, about that old green traitor. Another universe, another life, and he might have been a good mate. Still, can't think like that. All right, so we've got the wheels from that bloody Yank, the claw from Maithwaite, a couple of bits and bobs from the old Russian that we scuppered...pity we didn't get Ivan too, his buffers would have made a great little finishing touch. Ah well. And now, of course, the majority of BoCo's parts are now firmly in place. I do love my work."
A second grunt.
"Ah, Bert. Once again, you cut me to the quick. Of course we're not stopping here! So much more to do!"
"I'm glad to hear it."
"JES-What did he tell you about phasing through walls?! And you know that thing that Graham Bell invented?! You know, the phone!? How about you use it once in a while!? Oh, you're still bummed about that little...accident we had when we attempted to reformat you?"
"Oh trust me, thought I'm still enraged at you, I almost have to thank you. But I bring news. An engine is coming here tonight."
"Why do we-?"
"It's Stepney."
A third grunt, this time very excited.
"Go on."
...
"-So I said to him "James, mate, Mavis is more than up to the task! The day she quits doing her work down here will be the day when the Island falls!" and then he did his usual thing of laughing at me and flouncing off."
"Thanks Toby...So how much do you have riding on me again?"
"Twenty pounds. And my dignity. Please don't lose me this bet."
"So kind. Oh, speaking of which, here he comes!"
Stepney cheerfully puffed up, having spent the remainder of the night crowing over escaping once more to Baxter and the twins. "What ho, you lot!" he declared proudly. "Guess who is back!"
"Is it Class 40?"
"Oh, shut up. Seriously though, nice to see you Toby. And...er, I don't think we've had the pleasure."
"Mavis. I was in the quarry when you came last time."
Stepney frowned. "Huh. Surprised I didn't meet you." He paused, and then grinned. "Still, better late than never, am I right?"
"We're glad to have you with us."
"Those my trucks?"
There was a pause as all three realized what an odd statement this was in an area surrounded by lines upon lines of trucks.
"Oh, those ones? Yep. Well...some of them. But there are tons more in the sidings."
"VIVA LE REVOLUTION!"
"Shut up, Fred!"
"You shut up, Rickety!"
"The more the merrier! Let me at them!" Stepney paused as Mavis moved off to get his first lot ready. "Oh, and by the by, Toby...Duck about? I was curious to see how he's been doing."
"Ah, sorry, he's off the Island for the day. Apparently he and City of Truro are meeting up to have a chinwag about whatever mysterious organization he works for, and whatever weird thing they've got him doing on the Island."
Stepney frowned. "Hang about, you know that? Did he take my advice and come clean?"
"Nope. I worked it out."
"...How?"
"You really think I can't hear the weird shit he mutters about under his breath when he thinks no one is listening?"
...
TWO WEEKS AGO.
"Got to get back and tell Truro about what happened with the Juggernaut that night. Hope he believes me-"
"HI DUCK!"
"AAAARGH! TOBY?! Someone should stick a bell on you!"
"They already did! Ding ding! Watcha doing?"
"I was doing, er, the comic books!"
"...The comic books."
"Yep! I do love the Juggernaut, he's probably my favorite Marvel villain there is! WELL LOOK AT THE TIME, NON SPECIFIC EXCUSE! I'm just going to...er...MY PIANO LESSONS! OH BOY DO I LOVE THE PIANO OKAY BYE."
"...Pfft. Smooth."
...
Stepney laughed. "Piano recitals!? Seriously?!"
"Trust me, that's not the only time I've caught him talking under his breath and doing 'ominous' things. Eh, I'll just act super surprised when he brings it up. If he brings it up. Ever."
"Hey! Less chatting and more working!" snapped Mavis.
Stepney worked as hard as five engines, or ten James's if you want it in metric. The dustier he became, the harder he worked, and the more his nose acted up. Mavis and Toby were impressed, and wondered if they could trade both Bill and Ben for Stepney. Then they realized that perhaps burning down the Bluebell Line wasn't the way to go.
Soon, the quarry was almost empty, and the foreman spoke to the Bluebell Engine's driver, who was currently more than a little drunk. "We've got this night special...well, it's more of a dumping ground for some of the older trucks, it heads off to the construction site of the new branch-line. They're thinking of re-doing Toby's old place. Want to take it?"
"is it just me, or are you a bit golder than usual? Sure, why not?!"
"Shouldn't you have asked the Fat Controller first?"
"Shut up, Stepney!"
Night came, as it often does. Stepney was coupled up to a line of trucks, and the driver and fireman hurried off to the bar to get one last lot of gin. This gave the engines chance to say goodbye.
"Thanks for your help, Stepney. Careful as you go, now."
"I will, thanks for a lovely day! I do hope I can come back again!"
Toby scoffed. "The way this railway is run? I can almost guarantee it!"
Mavis jumped as the owl hooted. "Bloody owls! They should be shot! The track you're heading on can be spooky. Take care."
"Bye!" And so saying, Stepney puffed off. "Thanks the warning!"
Mavis and Toby watched as Stepney disappeared from sight, and then looked at each other. Another bloody boring night at the quarry.
Stepney made good time, and soon arrived to drop off the rock and stone for the workmen. Butch the Breakdown Crane was there as well, and tried to get a speaking part in the episode. But thankfully, we don't have to pay for his salary, as his scene was promptly cut.
Then he set off for home.
...
"Tonight, Bert?"
A harsh sort of growl, the kind that started from the stomach and clawed it's way up through the throat answered Arry's remark.
"Yeah. You're right. This is going to be fun."
...
"We're lost! Again! Bloody lunatic!"
"We are NOT lost, Stepney! Look, we're doing perfectly fine! See! We're right on course to the Vicarstown Bridge! So on point! It amazes me sometimes, how good I am with a map."
There was a pause as the fog set in, then the fireman turned the map the right way up. The driver glared at him, before glancing down. "See! This is still great! We're not too far from the Bridge-"
"Doesn't it say at the top that this map was printed in 1821?"
Silence for a moment.
"OHHHHHH FU-"
At that moment, Stepney let out a blast on his whistle, hoping to attract someone's aid. Unfortunately, they weren't too far off from Hawin Lake, which had been abandoned since Old Bailey had gone slightly off the rails. No one was around.
"God, Mavis was right. Suddenly everything does look spooky! And someone needs to prune these trees, someone could seriously hurt themselves on them!" They carried on in silence for a few more minutes, before at last, the driver spotted a signalbox with the light on.
"Ah ha! See! What did I tell you!? My sense of direction is perfect! Oh, and look at that, a green light! Must have been expecting us! And you doubted me! Ha! You're just like my parents."
He was wrong, of course. The signalman was bored out of his mind, and had fallen asleep. Like a real trooper, of course. Stepney continued onwards into the night, passing by a windmill that he was pretty sure he hadn't passed coming in. The points ahead were set to take them even further off course, but in the mist and dark, Stepney couldn't tell.
"Home, here we come!"
And then things went from bad to terrifying in an instant. They stumbled into an unknown area of the Island, where rarely anyone ventured. The mist and smoke from the massive furnaces made it hard to see what was going on at first, and so Stepney didn't cotton on where he was for the moment. But the driver and fireman were now both keenly aware that they had made a very bad choice indeed. The former made a decision. "We'll have to stop here until everything clears up."
Then came the sounds. The sound of metal being torn apart, the sound of crackling fires being stoked with things that were definitely not coals, the sound of metal crushers pounding things into new shapes.
"What are those strange sounds?"
Then the fog lifted.
"Oh...oh nonononononono, we can't be! We mustn't be! We're not in the scrapyard, please! Please god alive, please! LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" Stepney frowned, and looked back to his cab. "GUYS?!"
The fireman and driver had departed as the mist began to disappear to find help in one of the sheds. They hadn't spotted the same thing Stepney had. Desperately, the Bluebell engine tried to back away, but his wheels refused to move. Truly it was awful. Around him lay dessecated corpses. They might have just been rubber props for all he knew, but the ghoulish looking bodies, bodies that looked eerily similar to Thomas and Gordon and James, and the Twins, and even one hung up in an almost mocking way that resembled City of Truro, struck fear into Stepney's heart.
And then, from behind, he heard the sound of wheels moving, and a familiar voice echoed around him.
"Gotcha now, Stepney. Oh, what fine scrap you will make indeed...buffer him, Bert. Let's give him a little tour."
Bert growled, and locked his couplings around Stepney's. There was no way out, no magic diesel coming to the rescue, no one would know once he had been dragged off. As hard as he could, Stepney fought, but the two Grim Reapers of the scrapheap had him trapped.
They took him to Shed 14, the large Smelting Shed. The bright red light filled everything, temporarily blinding Stepney as it did so. Arry and Bert were used to it, and ignored it. As they did so, they moved him into position.
"Bye bye, Stepney!" said the diesel, and they backed off. Stepney started and tried to pull back, but clamps from beneath shot up and took hold of his wheels. Wincing, by chance he looked up. Above him was a huge grabbing claw, one that looked as though it could crush even Gordon with no effort whatsoever.
"AAAAAARGH! THIS ENGINE'S NOT FOR SCRAPPING!"
The claw didn't listen as it continued downwards. Why would it? It's a claw. Stepney shut his eyes and prayed that the end would come quickly. He felt the sides of the grabber press against his boiler...and stop.
"IT'S A GOOD THING THAT I'VE CHOSEN TO COME HERE TONIGHT...and bloody convinient too...SAVING YOU FROM SCRAP IS A BAD HABIT! PLEASE STOP IT!"
"God!? You sound much more like a Yorkshireman than I would have guessed!"
"It's me, you bloody fool!"
"Yep sir! I've realized something!"
"Yeah?"
"No place like home!"
"Then what are you doing here!? Get off with you!"
"BLUEBELLS FOREVER!" wailed Stepney as he crossed the bridge with such speed you would have thought it was the Flash himself. His driver and fireman, however, promptly got smacked by everyone in the vicinity for being such a pair of twits.
...
Arry and Bert watched as Stepney puffed over the bridge to safety. The latter snarled angrily, but the former took it with surprising grace and calm. "Ah, pity. Would have been fun to see that one fry at last...ah well. Always next time."
They entered the shed far away from that that Stepney had exited. This was Shed Number 17. The area was designed to be a testing ground for all of their worst and most deadly weapons. The Rusticide Plague, that could reduce an engine to scrapings on the floor within weeks. The Misty Island Project, in which whole Islands could be created at the drop of a hat. Marklin's own special project, kept away from everyone who wasn't named Arry or Bert.
And of course, HIM.
There was a flash, and a strange series of noises as a portal opened up, and the Fat Director and Captain Zero staggered out. They had deposited the treasures they had stolen somewhere for the Fat Director of the past to find and make his fortune. He turned and stared in wonder at Diesel 10's framework. "Magnificent" He gasped, and made for the larger than life diesel. Tentatively, as if it would shatter if he held too tightly, he brushed against the frame. He tried not to smile. He failed. It was the most terrifying image any of the workers had ever seen.
"Oh yes. You will be beautiful."
He turned around and looked at the others. "I do believe-" he remarked "-that we have a certain favor to pay Mr Gotch. Zero, get your ships ready. We're going after Hargreaves."
...
Carlin recovered first. "God above! Benn, you bastard, wait for me next time! I nearly got blowed the hell up!"
"That's not grammatically correct-"
"YOU'RE NOT GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT!"
"You're overreacting."
"I NEARLY DIED."
"Enough! Both of you! For me's sake, can't you just calm down!?"
Carlin looked at Lady. He started in surprise. Time had not been kind to her, clearly. Her paint was cracked, and fading away. Large cobwebs seemed to cover her cab and boiler, and especially her buffers. Her face, which had been so alive and intelligent, looked rather grey and dulled now. Her eyes had lost their glow, her face seemed more wrinkled, and she seemed to have her mouth locked permanently downwards.
"Of course, Lady." Mr Benn sighed, apologetically. "Sorry, Carlin. There was an incident. Halfway through the portal, I got dragged back to the shop by something. It's been three or four days since I saw you last. Getting here's been a nightmare."
"Yeah...sorry too." Carlin looked around. "Where are the others? Why aren't we at Great Waterton?"
No one answered for a bit. Then Lady looked Carlin in the eye, wearily. "We...Great Waterton fell into disrepair a long time ago. We had to abandon it in case it got worse. And the Island...it shifts. Every so often the entire geography of the place switches around and no one notices. So...we left. All of us. Some went off to other areas...I heard that Posideon and Tubby headed off a long time ago to the Bigg City Port and Flitterwick Harbor respectively. Others have gone to...far off places...Dream Street, Harefield Airport, Tarrytown, Halifax Harbor, some London Airport...they've gone off to live their own lives."
"And others? Where' s Proteus?"
Lady looked away, and almost choked on her words. "Gone...he's...gone."
There was a long and awkward silence, before the sound of chatting brought them back to the present. Much to Carlin's surprise, three teenagers walked on through the glade as if it was nothing. The two boys and the girl stopped their rather cheerful nattering away to stare in surprise at Carlin, who in turn stared back with an equal amount of shock.
"Sorry, Miss Lady." said the first boy. He was tall, sort of the stereotypical farmboy you'd see in very naive pictures in the war effort, blond hair, brown eyes and a slight deepness to his voice. "We didn't know you had company."
"It's all right. Neither did I until a few minutes ago."
"Is he a threat? Do you want me to take care of him!?" said the second lad. He was a good deal shorter than the first, with a pair of spectacles, a rather muscular build slightly hidden by a black jacket and trousers combo and brown hair bordering on black. He looked rather aggressive, before the girl placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She too was a brunette, albeit one with a far lighter complexion than the boy, and her somewhat Edwardian dress hid a wiry figure.
"Not a problem. Let me introduce you. This is Carlin." Lady winked. "He's a Conductor."
The three gasped. Carlin coughed and looked from left to right as if someone was listening in. "Wow, dropped that in quite fast. Pleasure, I'm sure."
"It's great to meet you! I'm Burnett Stone."
"I'm Tasha Bower."
"And I'm Pete Boom! Remember that name!"
That's right. It's time for the MAIN EVENT.
Quick notes. Tasha's last name is a reference to the actress who played her as a child. I struggled for ages with a nickname for P.T Boomer, but eventually went with Pete Boom as a reference to how it's often incorrectly mentioned by fans.