A/N: I'd just like to thank my friend, asperman1, for suggesting this idea to me for Edward having a funeral following his death. I hope you like reading, and reviews will be much appreciated. Thank you.

….

The next day, Christopher Awdry was having breakfast at home when the post arrived. Rifling through the envelopes revealed mostly bills and junk mail, but then, he came across a letter that looked eerily like the letter that he received from the Fat Controller, announcing Thomas' tragic death.

He tore the envelope open, pulled out the letter and scanned through the contents.

"Dear Christopher Awdry,

It is with deepest regret that I write to you to inform you that Edward the Blue Engine has recently committed suicide over the loss of his mentee and dear friend, Thomas, to a fatal accident on the Vicarstown Bridge. Edward himself had driven off a cliff into the sea, and some fishermen found his remains.

I cordially invite you to attend his funeral and memorial service on Sodor on Sunday 25th of February.

Yours sincerely,

Sir Topham Hatt."

Christopher rubbed his face in dismay. Attending one funeral of the engines his late father wrote so much about had been very, very hard as it was- but having to attend a second in a short space of time was even less appealing.

Still, Edward was the first ever engine Christopher ever learned about on Sodor- even before Thomas himself, thanks to his dad. He'd want to go- even if suicide was normally against God's will.

Sighing, he solemnly fished his breakfast, and got ready to go. He had to make a phone call to postpone a Sunday lunch with friends, and he went to go and catch a train to Sodor. The funeral was tomorrow, and the journey wasn't too far, but he decided to go and see Sir Topham Hatt and the remaining engines before the funeral.

….

On arriving at Vicarstown, he saw Gordon waiting for him to take him on to Knapford. Christopher decided now would be a good time to start.

"Gordon?" he asked, walking up to the grand number '4' of the North Western Railway.

"Yes, sir?" a sullen voice rumbled quietly.

Christopher was shaken when he saw that Gordon's eyes were dull and his face ghostlike. He remembered this engine to be proud, arrogant and boastful….and yet, he was now a shell of his former self.

"I wished to say how sorry I am for hearing about Edward's suicide." Christopher said gently.

"I just don't get it… why did he do it? Well, I know he missed Thomas a lot, but we all did. We still do. Why didn't he talk to us?" Gordon asked, anger burning in his eyes.

"Perhaps he could see no other way," Suggested the man, benevolently. "I know my father's profession does not approve of suicide- but I have observed that a reason why people commit suicide is because they fear what they are facing and do not wish to trouble their loved ones anymore."

"But Edward could have come to us!" Gordon thundered. "We're his friends! It's just not fair- cos he didn't say anything, he"-

"Life can be unfair yes- but we find ways to cope with that unfairness." Christopher interrupted. "However, there are some people who struggle to cope, or are so overwhelmed by what they have to face, that they cannot see any other way of coping other than escaping the situation permanently. I can understand you are hurting, but Edward was hurting too. From what I have known of their relationship, Edward cared for Thomas as a son he did not have."

"He did." Gordon said, a bittersweet smile on his face. "He did so much for Thomas, even when most of us didn't like associating with him at the start."

"Precisely. The loss of a child is strongly felt, Gordon. It is a process no parent, biological, adopted or otherwise, wants to endure willingly. I cannot blame Edward for his decision, and I implore that you find it in your heart to forgive him."

"… well, he did a lot for me, like helping me up that wretched hill," Gordon mused. "And he forgave me for bullying him so shamefully in my earlier years of working here. I guess forgiving Edward for what's happened is the least I can do."

"Just remember, Gordon- people who commit suicide do not necessarily wish to die- or cause distress to loved ones. They see death as the only option to escaping their problems- and it takes a lot of courage for these people to step forward and admit they need help."

"Thank you, sir," Said Gordon, smiling slightly. "I… I appreciate you saying that."

"I am only passing on what I have learned, Gordon. It is a hard time, yes, to lose a loved one- suicide or otherwise. But it does not mean the end of hope."

….

Christopher met with the Vicar, who owned Trevor, and The Fat Controller himself, to discuss the funeral arrangements.

They agreed that it would also be held at Cronk, and Trevor was allowed a bereavement leave, of sorts, to pay his respects to the engine and friend who saved his life. They also agreed that only several engines could attend the funeral- but everyone who couldn't go would hold a two-minute silence for the deceased number '2'.

Flowers and tributes were organized, and once again, children were allowed a day off school in respect of Edward – with permission from the Mayor, like before.

…..

On the Sunday morning, the funeral was held. The Brass Band, whom Edward had always loved listening to, played mournful songs for their friend whilst their eyes watered with grief.

The engines shed tears of sadness as once again, Reg solemnly sorted out Edward's scrap parts. The realization that Edward was really gone hit them like a ton of bricks- they couldn't deny it any longer.

Edward was gone. He was dead.

Trevor, BoCo and Duck were all very upset in particular- in addition to the Steam Team- for they had been Edward's closest friends on the branch. It was also Edward's friendship with both engines that helped Duck overcome his prejudice of diesels and befriend BoCo, following his nasty encounter with Diesel.

….

At the memorial service after the funeral, which was held at Wellsworth Station in his honor, the children sang songs about him and his brave feats on the line, which had enthralled their parents and grandparents when they were young children.

The Fat Controller then stood up to make a speech.

"Ladies, gentlemen, children and engines- as you all know, we recently lost Edward to a tragic suicide." He began. "Ever since I first brought Edward here from the Furness Railway, I had always known him to be a kind hearted, patient, and brave engine who has done so much for this railway. He never gave up when he was needed most; he always knew how best to teach younger engines and calm down everyone else, he took great pride in his work; and he was never far behind when his support, advice and guidance was needed. He was a most trustworthy, reliable worker who always did his hardest with a smile on his face, and he was also a loyal and affectionate friend to all who knew him."

The engines all agreed with his sentiments on Edward- truer words had never been spoken by anyone.

"He never let it matter to him how old he was; he was always focused on what he could do." The Fat Controller continued, wiping away a few tears that had formed. "His loss will be greatly felt by myself, my engines, and a great many more. Thank you." And he shuffled off to rejoin his wife, mother, children and grandchildren. m

Christopher was next. He stood up and said, "I just wish to say that my late father, the Reverend Wilbert Awdry, told me stories of this wonderful place as a child, before he told every other child and childlike adult." He smiled fondly. "Edward was the first engine I have ever heard him talk of, and I always admired him for his kindness and determination- something which I hope young people and engines can learn from in future."

He paused a moment and cleared his throat before continuing. "And that is the reason why Edward will hold a special place in my heart. He showed me not only the magic and beauty of Sodor, but what a huge impact acts of compassion, courage and fortitude can have on people. He has inspired me and many others, and I sincerely hope the marvelous legacy he has left behind will continue to do the same for younger generations. Thank you,"

He moved away as well, and then the Vicar led 'Amazing Grace' before the engines shared their experiences with the kind engine; Gordon mentioned how Edward often acted as his banker; James recalled with glittering detail the daring feat he performed when James himself inadvertently became a runaway; Henry reminisced on how the old blue engine pulled a train home on a broken valve- and also accidentally mentioned that Edward had conversations with the Queen and Richard III in his sleep, eliciting some chuckles from the crowd.

After that, they shared a few more stories about him; funny, memorable, heartwarming, sad; anything to help keep his memory alive.

The children also mentioned they would miss seeing Edward chuff about on the line, and the Vicar blessed Edward's soul, and closed the service with a hymn, and a final song in Edward's memory, before everyone departed, with hugs and sympathetic words exchanged aplenty.

A few days later, Christopher went home, his heart heavy with the fact that Edward was now gone- but also relieved that he had been laid to rest.

A statue had also been erected in Edward's honor, near to Thomas' and many tributes were left in Edward's berth too- poems, flowers, wreaths, teddies, candles, drawings and even a copy of 'The Sad Story of Edward', with a heartfelt message from Christopher himself.

'Dear Edward,

I know we never saw each other very much, but I merely wish to say that, ever since my father first told me your story, I thought of you. Whenever I was sad, lonely or ready to give up something I couldn't do, I always thought of you. Often, I would still fail in my task, but I persevered and eventually succeeded- because you had done so. You had achieved what seemed impossible to me, but I know now never to doubt one's abilities- either my own or someone else's.

Thank you, for teaching me what it really means to be kind and brave. You are an inspiration to all, and I wish all the best, wherever you may be now.

Yours sincerely,

Christopher Awdry.'

….

Two pearly white drops gently splashed on a white buffer beam on reading those benevolent words.

"You can't be crying, can you, Edward?" Thomas teased, rolling up beside his beloved mentor.

Edward smiled at his friend and former pupil. "Well, I'm just touched, that's all. But I also feel bad… I took my own life, and yet, everyone took the time to hold a funeral service in my honor and leave tributes in my shed." Edward confessed. "I thought…. I thought everyone would be mad at me."

"Hey, you were hurting, badly," Thomas pointed out. "Besides, it's not your manner of death that's their concern- it's how you lived your life. I'm not saying your death's not insignificant, it's just…. Funerals are meant to celebrate life, in a sense."

"You're right," Smiled Edward. "I guess they are. But they are also sad affairs, because there are dead people being buried."

"Or scrapped," Thomas added quietly.

"Touché." Edward murmured. "If only we can go back, Thomas." He said sadly.

"When you can't go back, don't look back," the little tank engine advised. "We can only go forward from here, and allow our friends to do the same.

"That's right, Thomas." Edward smiled sagely.

Thomas smiled back at his friend. "So, want another race?" He asked cheekily, winking at Edward.

"Oh, I will win this time!" Edward said, laughing.

"No, I will!" Thomas said.

"Well, only one way to find out," Answered the old engine, playfully. "Are you ready?"

"Steady…."

"GO!" They both chorused, and they raced off into the starry skies, laughing cheerily. They let out one last goodbye whistle to the Island they called home, the engines and people they called their friends, the railway they called their place of productivity and then… they faded away.