It wasn't but another week before word of Kestrel's murder reached Hayden. Alex had photographs of Kestrel's body mailed to Cheyenne in a tightly sealed envelope that read 'For Hayden Jameson's Eyes ONLY.' The LNER controller was in Cheyenne stockyard's office area with Marjorie as she poured over maintenance reports for Jimmy and his brothers when he was handed the envelop by a mailman. He hesitated before taking it and simply stared at the Manila paper and Alex's unusually shaky handwriting. He tapped it nervously, then reached for a letter opener in a pencil cup across from him. Marjorie had stopped what she was doing and watched him open the mystery parcel. Hayden peeked inside and furrowed his brow. There was a repair file inside and he was able to read Kestrel's name on the tab. He pulled it out and opened it up. The first thing he saw was a photo. The photo of Kestrel's lifeless body and blood-soaked face surrounded by workmen and a rather somber Edward poised to the front of the locomotive. He took the photo, flipped it over and found a single line note written by his chief inspector:

'We couldn't bring him back'

Hayden flipped the picture back over and stared at it hard. He didn't know what to think so he began to read over the length of his repair notes and that's when a new piece of paper slipped into view. Bordered in hand applied gold leaf and carefully stamped gothic style lettering. It was a death certificate. It was Kestrel's death certificate. Hayden's throat tightened and he set all the papers down to look at Marjorie who was still watching him with obvious concern. He spoke softly. "Kestrel's dead."

"What?!" She moved to sit beside her guest and grabbed at the paperwork. She saw the photo and threw her hand over her mouth in shock. "Who did this?"

"They don't know," Hayden's voice was trembling. He could feel himself fighting tears. "He was found like that by Marilyn after they stayed the night together. The poor thing."

Marjorie continued to look over the photograph with careful scrutiny. She noted the wound on his forehead and frowned. "Someone used a bolt on him."

"What? Like your brother was talking about the other day?"

She nodded and pointed to the picture. "It's a perfectly round hole. A gun wouldn't do that and another engine couldn't either."

"So people killed my engine?"

"Or people led by another engine." Marjorie stated. "Who do you know that's good at manipulating people to do their bidding?"

Hayden's body stiffened but of course he knew who she was inferring to. He suddenly knew he needed to get back home. He needed to be with his engines and to get the whole mess straightened out. Though he hated to go, he was learning so much about making a railway more friendly for its working occupants, but he felt so incredibly helpless being so far away. He looked back to Marjorie and grabbed her hand. "I have to go."

She nodded. "I understand," she laid the photo down and sighed. "You can come back anytime and we'll pick up where we left off, okay?"

Hayden smiled and pushed up from the table, grabbing all the paperwork he had laid out along with Kestrel's file and started towards the door with Marjorie trailing right behind.

"But why are you going back?" Meredith called to Hayden. She followed him and Marjorie towards the depot, the both of them carrying armfuls of luggage. Marjorie had decided to accompany Hayden back, figured she could use it as an opportunity for more study of Mallard, given the circumstances and his very likely involvement in Kestrel's untimely demise.

Hayden set down his bags and turned to his engine, her lip was quivering and the controller's heart sank into his stomach. "Oh, Mer, I wish I could explain, but I don't need you to worry." She approached the platform and Hayden's outstretched hand. He rubbed her cheek and forehead, making her boiler rumble in a gentle purr. He stopped his petting so she would open her eyes and crouched down to look at her better. "I'll be back to get you soon, okay? It just takes some time to arrange the shipment of a steam engine so for now you'll stay here, alright?"

Meredith nodded dreamily, she loved when Hayden pet her and she leaned into his hand. At the same time, Jimmy and Chief had caught wind of their conversation and rolled up, both surprisingly stern. "What's the matter?" Jimmy inquired.

"There are some matters requiring my attention back home," Hayden replied, straightening himself, rubbing his palms on his jeans. "Meredith will be staying here in Cheyenne, I imagine you'll do well to keep her safe."

The two Big Boys nodded, Jimmy broke a smirk and purred. "Oh we'll keep her plenty busy. She won't even realize you're gone."

Hayden rocked awkwardly on his heels then turned back just in time to see a bright streamlined diesel slip into the station with a long line of matching coaches. Marjorie waved for Hayden to wrap it up and the LNER controller turned back to Meredith and angled himself to kiss her forehead. He rubbed her cheek one last time then reached for his luggage.

"Oh! When you see Kestrel, do tell him I hope it works out between him and Marilyn!" Meredith called, Hayden froze and looked over his shoulder at his engine. She was beaming. "Scot's been telling me all about those two. He says it's disgusting, but he's also never seen Kestrel so happy and I'm glad for him. He deserves happiness."

Hayden's throat tightened but he forced a smile. "I'll let him know."

"Thank you!" Meredith bounced and watched her owner board the train with the woman engineer who appeared weirdly solemn. The little tank engine decided not to dwell on the dark cloud Marjorie seemed to carry, she was certain the engineer was merely sad to leave her engines again.

"So, Mer," Jimmy purred, the sound yanked the little engine's attention away from the departing train. "Ole Chief and I are on a layover for a few hours, what do you say to… doublin' up?"

Meredith's gaze shot between the two brothers and her safety valve felt it would pop off. "You… the two of you… together?"

"Jim can take your valve," Chief growled, he leaned close to the little engine and breathed a hot cloud of steam at her face. "I want your mouth."

Meredith's eyes fluttered as his thick air caressed her smoke box. She didn't say another word but eagerly followed the two big males back to the roundhouse. Hayden watched her go from his seat on the train and wiped his face, wet with tears. He hated leaving her behind, but even more he hated leaving her in the dark about Kestrel.

"You alright?"

Hayden tore his gaze from the window to Marjorie setting down a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him. The controller wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic and exhaled slowly. "I should have never left."

"You had no way of knowin' all this would happen." The woman said as she took her spot across from Hayden while sipping her own coffee. "Engines can be extremely unpredictable, the same as people."

"Yes, but you've not had to deal with this," Hayden groaned, still clutching his coffee but never drinking it. "Your engines are well-behaved besides being outlandishly randy. They're not constantly going for the throat of another just for looking at their partner funny. I left fully knowing just how unstable my males are."

"Yeah… well— not at first." Marjorie was spinning her finger around the rim of her mug, avoiding eye contact. She sighed. "When Jimmy was first built, he was the perfect mirror of your Mallard. Cold, calculating, crass, a sociopath. He demanded power. Once all the rest of his siblings were built in the string of five days he killed ten of them." Hayden's attention at that point was fully on her, his expression hard. She continued while staring out the window at the passing brown wilderness. "And not only did he kill his siblings, he killed their crews, with only three crewmen surviving with life-altering injuries. I came on not too long after the incidents, I went before the railway's executive and begged for mercy on Jimmy's behalf. I convinced them I could reign him in, that I could make him a safe and productive worker. Eventually I did, it took almost a year and I nearly quit God knows how many times," she shrugged. "Chief helped a lot, he's almost like a father-figure for Jimmy. He kicked the crap out of Jim a couple times, nearly left him for dead once; that coupled with my persistent verbal dogging we finally broke through. He cleaned up his act and did his job, did it so well he wasn't scrapped. We quickly figured out the best way to keep him off the edge was sex, reformed the whole railway around it, stocked the lines with females and built private lines exclusively for locomotive use."

Hayden rubbed his jaw. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I was afraid you'd think I didn't know what I was doing…" Marjorie admitted with an awkward laugh. "I'd read some articles about Mallard before you contacted me and I was bitin' at the bit to work with him. I saw nothin' but Jimmy in him, but I realize now he's missing that one thing Jim has."

"Which is?"

"A Chief."

News of Hayden's return passed quickly along the LNER. Flying Scotsman was attempting to nap in his shed when his moment of peace was interrupted by a red-eyed Edgar nudging open the doors. The alpha blinked a few times from the sudden influx of sunlight and while he wanted to scold his lieutenant for waking him, he bit it back. "What is it you need?" He said groggily.

Edgar swallowed, trying to steady his voice which had gone hoarse from crying in private. "Mister Jameson," he said quietly. "He's coming back."

Scotsman perked up. "Is Meredith—"

"We don't know," Edgar sniffed. He let himself all the way into the shed so the doors would shut behind him. He let out a shaky breath. "Apparently he told Mister Hoffman to hold off on disposing of Kestrel's body until his arrival early tomorrow morning. I— well… my brothers and I were wondering if you might ask him to not have him smelted."

"Why me?"

The black A4 struggled to keep his composure discussing the subject. He always had a soft spot for Kestrel, he was the kindest of the A4's despite his somewhat hard and uncouth disposition. In addition, Edgar always felt he had a duty to protect his younger siblings and the incident left him feeling a failure. "Because—" he said quietly. "Because you have special pull with Mister Hoffman given his favor of Meredith. We want him buried by that barn where he was found. It was his favorite spot after all."

Scotsman chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced out the window to the decaying sunlight. Then he heard sniffling and looked back to Edgar, new tears wet his cheeks as he fought another onslaught of grieving emotions. The A3 nodded. "I'll do what I can." He then softly placed his forehead to Edgar's. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off? I can work over and take your jobs."

Edgar blinked then sighed, moving his lips to meet Scot's. The A3 rocked awkwardly but turned his head and their mouths intertwined. The kiss was starved and sad, full of confliction as Edgar craved comfort while Scotsman hoped the kiss would evolve into something more. So much so that his movements were unusually sensual, Scot would lick the soft spot below Edgar's lips, rub his nose across his cheeks, breathe steam into his mouth, and growl low in his boiler. While Edgar's original intent behind the kiss was for emotional ease, he found himself heating up from all of Scot's tantalizing displays of desire. Not wanting to deny himself a good lay, he made an obvious show of opening his panel by shaking his body then dragging his tongue over Scotsman's.

Without a word, Scotsman effortlessly snaked his rod deep inside Edgar's opening, moving slow and methodically, gasping at the warm tight feeling around his sex. He'd abstained from proper coupling for almost two months and his nerves were ravenous for stimulation. He barely noticed Edgar's own heavy vocalizations as he moved faster and faster, rocking the A4 right into the door, swinging it open with one particularly aggressive thrust. Scotsman growled in frustration, removed himself, and shoved his lieutenant out of the shed and onto a nearby siding that was completely exposed to the adjoining neighborhoods. He bashed Edgar into the stops, reconnected, and began to fuck him hard, so hard the black A4 started to groan and curse louder than the highway traffic rolling back a few miles westward. He called Scotsman's name multiple times, rested his face against Scotsman's firebox and groaned right into one of his smoke deflectors.

"Moan louder," Scotsman demanded.

"But— the, ugh, the people…"

"I don't give a fuck," Scotsman nibbled Edgar's lip and the A4's eyes popped open to stare at his aggressive lover. "Moan."

Edgar bit his lip then did as his alpha said, he groaned with every thrust at a volume that startled a few people outside in their yards. They were quick to return inside at the sight of the two big males riding rough just meters away.

Scotsman watched the people scramble and chuckled low, he withdrew himself from Edgar, admired his rod's slippery surface as he dragged it over his partner's cheek. "Open wide." He smirked.

Edgar returned the grin then licked his lips as Scot's member slipped down his throat. He gagged suddenly and moved his tongue to help keep his throat closed. Though he typically enjoyed being on the receiving end of fallatio, he loved the faces Scotsman made as he sucked and licked him, the way he would scrunch his nose, bite his lip, roll his eyes back, and the little sharp breaths in after licking a particularly sensitive spot were enough to get him off without touching his own rod. Edgar slowed his mouth down when he felt Scotsman pulse and tense. He kept hold of only the tip and spun his tongue around it until his mouth was filled with a rush of hot, thick fluid. Most males preferred their partner swallow, Scotsman liked watching it fall out of his conquest's mouth and Edgar knew this, he parted his lips and slowly pushed the cloudy liquid out. It dripped down the sides of his smirk, wetting his chin, footboards, and the track below. Scotsman watched it then went in for another kiss, much to Edgar's surprise. The A3 didn't hesitate to take Edgar's mouth again despite it being covered in his own fluid. Their tongues found each other and they glided together with ease, the two males savored each other's flavor and once again Scotsman was inside Edgar, though for that round the black A4 rode hard, slipping on and off Scotsman, grinding his body and rolling his frame. When Scotsman came most of it ended up on the tracks after Edgar fumbled and lost Scot's rod, though only briefly. They laughed about it then went right back at it, Scotsman was finally feeling relieved and Edgar was for the moment distracted from the loss of his baby brother.

Later that evening, Marilyn was alone in the barn where her and Kestrel last met. She was quietly crying, watching the sun set in the reflection of the little pond. She struggled to maintain her motivation to work over the past few days. All she could think about was Kestrel's last moments, how terrified he looked when he breathed his last, how instantly cold his body was, the realization of his blood on her own face. It was all so traumatic but she was too scared to talk to anyone about it, instead she would return to their hiding spot in her free time to cry, scream, curse, and grieve intensely. Much to everyone's surprise, she ran to Flying Scotsman after the initial incident and not Sam. The alpha was hesitant to receive her as she approached him bleary-eyed and sobbing, but after a rather awkward pause he allowed her to cry into his smoke box though he never said a word. Sam was none too pleased to hear she went to their estranged father for comfort and not him, but even a male as cold as he knew it best to not confront her during such a vulnerable time. He didn't understand why the incident upset her so, but when she did finally come to him he did his best to be supportive.

Marilyn began to feel the weight of exhaustion once the sky had lost its fiery glow. She looked up at the sliver of a moon and let out a shaky exhale; she was prepping to return to her shed when the sound of another engine approaching stopped her. The female peeked her head out and audibly gasped at the sight of Mallard coming towards her. "H—hello," she said with a sniff. "What are you doing out here?"

"I came to check on you, dear," Mallard purred. He drove towards her slow, his soft smile did little to hide his darker intentions. "I know you've been in a bad way since Kestrel."

She looked down and moved back into the shed. "Yeah." Marilyn had never really interacted with Mallard and no one had warned her just how devious the seductive A4 could be. "I'm trying to keep it together but every time I close my eyes all I see is…" she trailed off, looking to a pile of hay laid beside the tracks. Mallard was in the shed by then, eyeing the young female intently. She looked back up at him and caught glimpse of that lustful smirk. Her body shuddered. "I'm sorry," she said, averting her gaze again. "He was your brother and I'm more of a mess than you."

"We all grieve differently," he assured with an uncharacteristically warm smile. "Some cry, some resort to violence, some work until their wheels can't turn, others…" he ran his nose against Marilyn's cheek, his voice a vibrating whisper. "Others manage their grief in the berth."

Marilyn closed her eyes, breathing in Mallard's warmth, his boiler rumbled as he dragged his lips over her nose. She didn't know him at all, but he was so devilishly handsome and his low tone titillated her senses. He was always a mystery to her, remaining on the outskirts of the railway and hardly ever speaking to anyone. It never occurred to her that there was a reason for his being alienated. To her his solitude made him more enticing and when his lips found hers she didn't hesitate to let his tongue explore her mouth. His own mouth was unusually hot and the way his saliva almost burnt her tongue shocked her and she let out little moans which made Mallard smile.

"Why don't you and I grieve together?" He breathed, barely lifting his lips from hers.

Marilyn giggled then kissed him again, she opened her panel slowly so the scent wouldn't hit him instantly, but when it did sensual Mallard left the building, he slammed her into the stops, connected himself and laid into her with his typical fervency. He kept his teeth clenched but when she started to grind on him a few rare moans escaped then he laughed. "Ohh, damn that bastard keeping you all to himself!"

"Do you plan to share?" Marilyn moaned softly as she bit at his mouth. The male growled.

"Not one little bit," Mallard hissed, he picked up his pace as her valve tightened around him in orgasm. She cried out.

Marilyn's mind was nothing but incomprehensible static, he moved in a way she'd not experienced, rocking her body and soul to a world of blissful euphoria. Her eyes rolled back which made Mallard grab at her. "Where do you think you're going?" He demanded. "Eyes on me!"

The young female did as she was told and kept eye-contact with him though it was a struggle. She wanted to focus on his movements, the in and out motion of his rod as it stimulated every nerve, how his heavy breathing felt against her face. The way he smelled of fresh condensation as it dripped down his face. He put his whole body into sex, working his pistons and brakes overtime to make certain he wouldn't roll backwards from the strength of his forward momentum, and the louder Marilyn moaned, the harder he thrust. She then began to cry his name which sent the male spiraling, she sounded just like Meredith in the height of her ecstasy and his head filled with all the memories of him fucking that little engine mercilessly. It threw him over the edge, his lube filled Marilyn and dripped out around his rod. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and admire the beauty before him, but he wasn't done with her. He removed his rod for a second and gave it a bit of a flex then he started rubbing Marilyn's swollen wet valve with it. "You and my brother ever pull an all-nighter before?"

Marilyn shivered, she could barely think with the way he was playing with her undercarriage. But she shook her head. "He did well and lasted quite a while, but never all night. A few good hours at most."

"Then I hope you were able to get a good nap in today," Mallard hummed, he slipped himself back inside the young female, earning a sharp moan. "Because I'll be fucking you until the sun comes up."

The sun rose the following morning and Mallard held firm in his promise, the pair of them were still deep in the throes, their voices grainy and undercarriages wonderfully sore. Marilyn was covered in more sweat than she thought possible and her valve was raw, but she didn't want Mallard to stop, he tried to pull away a couple times but she yanked him back and he was never one to turn down a demanding female. He continued to fuck her until he had absolutely nothing left, his orgasms ran dry and his axles ached. He rested against Marilyn who was still worked up and chuckled as she went after his mouth again. "Easy," he said, allowing her a gentle peck and nothing more. "You younglings have so much fucking energy."

"You started it," Marilyn teased, running her tongue under Mallard's chin.

The male shivered and laughed again. "Fuck, I see why Kestrel was so damn obsessed with you."

"He loved me."

Mallard purred. "Keep fucking me like that and I just may fall in love with you too."

"Don't you have a thing for my mother?" Marilyn joked, bumping Mallard's buffers. She didn't know much about the blue A4, but it was never a secret his attraction to Meredith. She also didn't wish to discuss Kestrel for fear of crying again.

Mallard snorted and kissed Marilyn's forehead. "Dear, no offense, but there's not a male worth his salt that doesn't want to fuck your mom. And I have, many times."

"Scot is okay with this?" Marilyn nuzzled her new partner and smiled. "He's protective of her."

"Possessive more like," Mallard scoffed. "Your mom's an insatiable vixen and it seems you've inherited that from her." He kissed her lips then her cheek. "But no, Scot is not okay with it, we've had a few… disagreements over it."

"You mean fights," Marilyn corrected with a sigh. "I'm not stupid, don't try to muddle things down."

Mallard couldn't help but smile wider at her perceptiveness. "Okay, yes, we fight, but it's what males do. Aside from sex, it's how we work out our frustrations."

"Hmph," Marilyn watched the sun rise higher above the tree line through a foggy window, Mallard's breathing filled her ears and she leaned more into him. "How come I never see you with your brothers? It almost seems like you avoid each other."

That question made the male shuffle uncomfortably on the tracks. He stiffened his jaw and looked over Marilyn's funnel at her dome with a cold glare. "We just don't see eye-to-eye on things, that's all."

"Again with the muddling."

"It's complicated, Marilyn." Mallard did his best to not become agitated. He liked that she was genuinely interested in him, but he also knew it was because she didn't know him. He decided to change the subject. "So what about your own brother, what's his deal? He and Scot don't seem to get along at all."

It was Marilyn's turn to shift weirdly. "Sam is stubbornly independent, doesn't like being told what to do and Scot does just that— it rubs him wrong." She hated always being asked about Sam, but then again she understood, he was odd.

"Well he and I have something in common then."

"Yeah, well, good luck trying to talk to him if you want to try. He doesn't care for any of you A4's. He thinks you're all haughty and self-important, especially you."

Mallard frowned. "Where would he get that impression?"

"I'm not sure, but he doesn't trust you."

A deep growl slipped out from the back of Mallard's throat and Marilyn looked up to find him glaring out the window. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No no," Mallard cleared his throat and softened up once more. "It's nothing you did." He took a deep breath. "Maybe we should be getting on, I know I'm late so I'm sure you are too."

"Yeah… can we do this again?"

One corner of Mallard's mouth twitched up, he'd never had a female ask to see him again, it made his boiler flutter in the most disgusting way and internally he cursed himself for feeling excited at her enthusiasm towards him. He nodded. "Here tonight? Say close to midnight so you can get some sleep?" He winked and Marilyn giggled before planting a firm kiss on Mallard's cheek.

"It's a date."