Author's Note: It's crazy to me that this is the last chaoter before the epilogue. Also it's almost entirely new content. Please enjoy and review, I'm really curious to hear what you think about the changes and ending!
Schemer stood politely behind Mr. King as he was introduced to the board as the newly appointed vice president. The crowd contained a variety of expressions; curious, confused, concerned. Schemer recognized some of the women and men at the table. Notably Hobart Hume, who gave the appearance of being disinterested. Schemer, having known the list off by heart, felt emboldened as he made eye contact with the bigoted man.
"Now Schemer, would you like to address the board?" Mr. King turned the podium over to Schemer and led the room in a warm applause.
"Thank you Mr. King, and thank you fellow board members. It's been quite the last few weeks, hasn't it?" he asked with a coy smile.
A rumble of relieved laughter reached around the room. It felt like the collective group had been holding in tension about the events of late, and breaking the ice seemed to put them at ease.
"Yes, I wholeheartedly agree. And I intend to help this railroad move past that ugly incident. It'll be difficult of course, but I wanted to share something that's helped me lately." He paused to smile warmly at the group, making eye contact that was slightly longer than would be comfortable with every member known to him to be a traitor. "Talking openly about my experiences has been particularly relieving."
He watched with some satisfaction as Hobart's facade began to crack. A few others squirmed slightly.
"Such as, did you know Paul lured me to the docks under false pretenses and held me at gunpoint? Paul was charismatic to be sure, and he sure fooled me at the beginning. Fooled all of us, I would think. But in light of such horrible actions that he took, I'd hate to think anyone would have continued to support him."
He let that sink in, watching the disconcertment spreading throughout the group. Mr. King leaned in beside him. "Schemer, what are you doing?" he asked in a low, worried whisper.
"Solving your little problem," he muttered back, before turning to face the unsettled crowd.
"Now! I know this fine group of people would never do anything to betray the railroad or Mr. King or innocent people. Isn't that right, what do you think Mr. Logan?" he directed the question pointedly at one member of the board, the first on the list. A pale man with nervous eyes.
"I don't know anything about that," the man replied with a shaky voice.
Schemer began to circle the table, hands clasped behind his back. "No? Does one hundred and fifty thousand dollars mean anything to you?"
The man slunk down in his seat, head in hands.
Schemer whipped his head around to face a woman. "Ms. Feldman, how about you? Did you enjoy your blood money?"
"Mr. Schemer, please, I-I didn't know," she sputtered.
"And yet you accepted a bribe. Does this room know, by chance, that bribes are not only a massive conflict of interest, but also very, very illegal?" he asked curiously, sounding out the syllables of 'illegal' very slowly.
Hobart stood up abruptly, red faced and furious. "That is enough, never in all my years as a member of the board have I ever seen such a disgraceful display! Mr. Schemer you are making a mockery of this respected group. Mr. King, have you really sunk so low after your reappointment to bring in such an unpolished knave to this respected railway?" he shouted angrily.
Schemer turned on him, inwardly smiling as Hobart took the bait, just like they knew he would. "Oh Hobart, I remember you. In particular, I remember your pretentious ways and the way you looked down on all of us at Shining Time Station. I also know a little something about you, you're not as comfortable as you would have people believe. You had the biggest bribe of all in fact, I'm sure your voice was valuable to Paul, wasn't it? But you needed the money badly, didn't you? Your business endeavours had been failing for years, and times were getting desperate. Not one to live beneath your station, no pun intended, you had to get a little dirty. Paul was perfect for that, and we know exactly what your price tag was." Schemer circled him like a shark.
"You don't know anything," Hobart hissed.
"I know that the police are waiting outside, ready to take the following people into questioning. Logan, Feldman, Hume, Peterson, Brooks, Cooper, Brown, Lopez," he recited dramatically, "Don't bother arguing, we've got the receipts from Paul. He kindly left evidence behind."
The room looked around in disbelief and horror. The ones who hadn't been named were by and large the ones who had been let go, however Paul appeared to leave a few innocent people planted amongst the slashed board. Realization dawned on the ones that had been called out that they were caught. Some had the good sense to look ashamed, others looked on defiantly.
"Before you go, I think it's time for a little vote. Those in favour of suspending the named members, until the investigation is complete, raise your hands." There was unanimous support from the unnamed members, all raised their hands. Schemer and Mr. King similarly raised their hands.
Schemer opened the door to reveal several police officers led by Mason Jones. Schemer shrugged. "Well there you have it, I guess you're free to go now. We'll get back to you about a permanent decision after the investigation concludes."
The named members hurriedly left the room with Hume shaking his head furiously as he had to be escorted out by two officers when he initially refused to leave.
Schemer exchanged a look with Mr. King, whose stunned expression slowly morphed into that of awe and respect. Schemer smiled in response and turned back to the remaining members, just making up a little more than half the board.
"Don't worry, I have no doubt the rest of us will get along just fine."
She was finally feeling brave enough to leave the house. As she was about to unlock her car door a voice broke through the silence, causing her to startle and drop her keys.
"Have I done something to piss you off?" a voice drawled cynically.
She sighed and retrieved her fallen keys before turning to face Schemee.
"Of course not," she said sincerely, even though she knew this was coming, "Why would you think that?"
"You've been avoiding me," he said simply, folding his arms across his chest.
"I haven't been avoiding you. I've been avoiding everyone," she said with a shrug.
He opened his mouth as if to retort but closed it, her words having temporarily disarmed him. She smirked slightly at that.
"Fine, I get it, I do. But what do you mean you're leaving the station?!"
"Oh Schemee, it's complicated."
He looked deeply disappointed and incredulous. "It doesn't make sense. We need you there, the station needs you there. It's all wrong without you."
"Schemee, listen, maybe you don't understand it now but it really is the best decision," she said brusquely, but immediately felt bad and softened her tone, "There's too much baggage now, too much has happened."
He too softened his expression but still looked irritable. "Why not just take some time off? Take a break, get some rest, figure out what you want and need. But why quit everything?"
She had asked herself the same question and hadn't been able to answer herself. "I don't know," she answered, honestly.
"Is it just my uncle? He wouldn't even come around if you didn't want to see him."
"I… No."
"Is it me?"
"No! Of course not."
He smirked slightly at that but was only temporarily placated and frowned, looking worried. "Well then, I get that you're afraid. What happened was crazy, but I do think we're the only ones who can possibly understand how each other is feeling right now. If you want space, I can't really stop you and force you to stay but I just want to make sure that you know you're not alone."
She looked down at the ground. Only Schemee could bring the level of bluntness to force her to stop fooling herself.
"Schemee… I don't need space. I've made so many reprehensible mistakes that I don't deserve to be at the station anymore. I don't deserve you or your uncle's forgiveness. I definitely don't deserve to be considered worthy to have wielded magic," she confessed, meeting his eyes.
Schemee looked perplexed and disarmed. She almost found it funny. She knew he was the real mastermind behind Schemer's hostile takeover of the board from the corrupt members, but he was somehow caught off guard by her confession.
"I…. hmm," he sputtered, looking deep in thought.
"Yeah, real conundrum here, isn't it?" she asked, trying to sound lighthearted.
"Look, I can't tell you how to feel… or not to feel. Nobody can. But I can tell you none of us feel that way, and if you're confused by that just know that we are equally confused by the way you're feeling," he offered, sounding disconcerted.
She remained silent this time, unsure how to respond. She didn't feel like arguing with him, and he wasn't trying to change her mind, so if her feelings were valid then so were his.
He looked thoughtful but exhaled sharply, sounding amused. Shaking his head, he said, "That one night, when I first met Paul and you brought me out of harm's way, the one when we first actually talked about everything that had happened up until that point, you remember that, don't you?"
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying in front of you," she gasped, trying to wipe her tears away as they flowed unbidden.
Schemee felt a ragged sob rip through his chest. "S-stop apologizing," he said between gasps, "It's not your fault."
"Yes, I remember," she confirmed in a hushed voice.
"We were both so caught up in our own guilt, but that was when we decided to put that aside and work together. I'll never forget the relief of knowing that no matter how bad things were, I had a friend on my side. I guess no matter what happens I just want you to know that whatever choice you make I'm on your side. So I hope that even if you decide to leave the station you know that you're not alone."
She was moved to the point of tears until he opened his arms with such an arrogant swagger that she had to laugh. Still she accepted his embrace and pulled him tight.
"Whatever it is you choose to do, please don't be a stranger," he said gently.
"I won't, I promise."
And she meant it.
After parting ways with Schemee she continued on to her actual destination, her parent's house. She wanted to tell them about her plans. That she wasn't returning to the station, that she was going to stay with her sister Tracy for a bit until she figured out the next steps. Her sister had similarly moved away from Shining Time several years ago, though for the much more organic reason of moving for school and then a subsequent career. Not like Stacy who was running from her career, a feeling she couldn't shake no matter how hard she tried.
Her conversation with Schemee had shaken her faith in her plans slightly. And as she pulled into her parent's driveway she cursed the universe for continuing to disrupt her thoughts. There, clear as day as if mocking her, his damnable car was parked in the driveway.
As she incredulously exited her own car she saw Schemer and her father exit the house, talking animatedly. It was bitterly ironic to her that she had once remained silent while her extended family openly mocked him, and now she was watching him chat with her father as if they were old friends. It also filled her with a melancholy over what could have been. In another life this was exactly what she had wanted, but it was bitterly out of reach.
They caught sight of her, and while their smiles didn't fully disappear they must've noticed the stunned expression on her face because they had the sense to tone down the humour that they seemed to have been sharing.
"Hey Stacy, I'm just heading out now, I'll get out of your way," Schemer spoke first, somewhat hurriedly.
She realized that it was the opposite of what she wanted.
Her father gave her a small smile, "Hey Stace, I'll wait inside for you," he said, leaving them alone before she could say anything further.
"Hey…" she drawled awkwardly, "What's all that about?"
Schemer was already standing beside his car, "Ah, well, I was coming to thank your dad for his help at the head office the other day," he said, sounding equally awkward.
"Oh right, I heard that you kicked up a fuss and fired anyone Paul had corrupted," she said with a faint smirk.
This seemed to put him at ease, and he visibly relaxed his shoulders. "Heh, yeah, I guess we did. I have to thank Schemee mainly, but it was kind of fun."
"Glad it's going well then. What comes next for you? What's your plan for the rest of your career as vice president?"
He shrugged but a coy smile spread across his face. "Well, I guess I'll have to see where it takes me. But now that I'm here I guess I'll need to set up shop somewhere, and I'll want a bit of space from Mr. King. I have just the place in mind, in fact."
He was baiting her, she knew it. It felt so reminiscent of the early days that she had to bite back the urge to tell him off. She wasn't going to let him get the better of her, not here. She may have given up the station but they weren't at the station; he was at her parent's house, this was her territory.
"Well," she shrugged, "I guess you finally won the station out from under me. Congratulations, it's well deserved." She stuck her hand out in front of her, offering it to him to shake.
He deflated slightly, put off by her lack of banter. "Mr. King told me that you declined receiving anything, why?" he asked, ignoring her hand
"You're infuriating, you know that?" she asked, not unkindly, "You know I don't need anything from Mr. King."
"I may be infuriating but you, my dear friend, are scaring me. I know you don't need anything, but it's the fact that you don't want anything that bothers me."
This made her pause. "Can I ask you something?"
He gave a small smile. "Anything."
"Did you want your new position or did you take it because you felt like you should?"
He considered this for a moment. "I mean, can't it be both? I wanted it for slightly different reasons before and after, well, you know, but I guess one of the reasons that I want it now is out of a sense of duty."
This brought a genuine smile to her face. "I understand, it's a relief to know the station is in the best hands. I'm really happy that you got what you wanted, Schemer, truly."
He smiled back but there was sadness in his eyes. "What happens after you leave? Will I see you again?"
"Of course, you know I won't be far. I've got plenty of reasons to come back here," she said meaningfully. It was the first time she had said it out loud, anytime she spoke of leaving there had been no indication of her returning. She knew that she was fooling herself though, and the idea of him made her want to return.
He seemed to sigh with relief. "Good… That's good."
She felt a pang of remorse. "Schemer, I came here to tell my parents that I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm going to pack up my desk after this," she confessed.
"What? Tomorrow? Already?!" he asked, entirely disarmed. The pained expression on his face only worsened her guilt.
"I'll keep in touch, okay?" she offered, hating how unsure she sounded. This was supposed to be her decision, something she was doing to protect herself.
He looked away, scuffing one foot against the ground. "I wish I didn't know how this felt, but I went through something similar. Please don't let yourself get too lonely. It will eat you up, and it's hard to pull back from." As he said it he gained a bit of confidence and met her eyes once more and reached for her hand gently. "Please don't make the same mistakes I did."
"Schemer… I…" she couldn't finish, she didn't know what to say. Instead of words she responding by bringing the back of his hand up to gently touch her cheek. She leaned into it and savoured the feeling of having him back. Even if this was just a temporary moment she wanted to remember it forever. He responded by turning it over and letting his palm rest along the side of her face.
She met his eyes and found his expression was unreadable. As she moved her own hand away he let his own fall back slowly. He swallowed nervously and took a step back.
"I know I shouldn't, but could I ask you just one more favour?" Her voice was gravelly with emotion.
"Anything," he responded in a hushed voice.
"Could you avoid the station today? I can't keep saying goodbye to you."
He looked pained and closed his eyes for a few counts. When he opened them again he nodded, though the conflict was evident on his face.
"If that's what you want, I promise I'll stay away."
The strange thing was though, she didn't think it was.
Standing outside her car she stood for a moment and observed. It looked no different than before, but as she surveyed the outside, she felt an immense sense of loss. The station would not be the one she once knew. A new conductor would take up residence in the mural. Her spot would be filled by someone else.
She heaved a sigh and shut her car door before heading inside. She just wanted to see it one last time, then she would pack her things and head home to finish the job.
However, the fact that the arcade spot would once again know its old owner gave her a small amount of joy.
Bracing herself, she unlocked the door and pushed it open cautiously. She felt hesitant but no one was inside. The station was still closed and wouldn't reopen for a week yet. Schemer would likely oversee that job himself. She smiled to herself, it was funny to think of him having climbed from being a lessee of a small space to the second in command of the entire railroad. But he'd be fine, he had a lot of support backing him.
She thought of Mr. Conductor as she observed the mural closely. It's funny how many times she had walked past this very painting, without giving it much thought. Similarly, she thought of how much she had taken the station that she once knew for granted. The station truly wasn't what she was going to miss, now that she was leaving it. But neither was it merely the sum of its parts. What it actually represented was the entire collection of people within it, and together they had been far greater than they could have been on their own. She learned quickly over the past few weeks, the station alone hadn't been worth the cost of Schemer or the two Mr. Conductors. Schemer had miraculously returned, but what she wouldn't have given to hear one of Mr. Conductor's stories again.
The nostalgia was overwhelming. She gave a sad sigh and placed both elbows down on the ticket booth in the middle of the station, and rested her head on her hands. It was selfish to try and pretend everything was back to normal and pretend like nothing had happened. Besides, he had an entire railroad to help run now. To expect him to return to the arcade and entertain her was unfair.
Speaking of the arcade, she looked up towards the original space. Paul's eye sore of an office was gone but the arcade was still a sad state of affairs. The split level stood empty, awaiting the return of its beloved machines. She was compelled to walk over to it. It wasn't the same but she still wanted to see it one more time.
She ran her hands along the railing and stopped just before cresting the top stair. Crossing that threshold seemed too intimate, but as she bit her lip she found that the call was just too tempting.
Two things happened as her foot touched the top step; as if waiting for her the gentle chime of a whistle rang out and a small man appeared. He brushed his jacket off and shook his head as if he had just woken up. She froze in shock. "Mr. Conductor?" she asked in disbelief.
It was the conductor that had saved her and Schemer in the train yard. "Stacy! Goodness am I glad to see you again," he said sincerely. He sounded cheerful but there was a hint of concern in his voice.
She was truly bowled over. She had not expected to see him again. Actually she scarcely expected to see any Conductor here again. She found that she couldn't help but smile as she leaned down to speak with him.
"Are you alright? You don't know how grateful I am to see you! We were so worried, we had assumed the worst had happened," she began to say, feeling the self-doubt creeping in again.
"I just needed some time, that's all. Also I had help, the station was healing me. The same way it came to your rescue in just a nick of time when I was indisposed. It needed our friend Schemer as a conduit, which he bravely allowed himself to be, but it also healed him up the same way," he explained.
She frowned. "The… station did that?"
"Yes! Well, the manifestation of its magic did. It may not be living and breathing in the same way you and I are, but it does exist and it cares deeply about its people. It also relies on relative harmony. It's what helped you, Billy and Schemee to stay safe from Paul when you were working together. It also very wisely shut itself down as much as possible to avoid becoming corrupted by the dark magic that Paul and that unknown person were using."
She took this in. She always knew this place was special. There was always something about it, she always said that. But she didn't realize that it was also sentient in some capacity.
"Now that we're under better circumstances, let me formally introduce myself. Mr. Conductor, at your service." He bowed deeply. "The pleasure's all mine, I assure you."
"Stacy Jones, station master," she replied with a small smile, "Well, I guess not for much longer." She gestured at her box of personal effects.
She had become increasingly unconfident in her decision. Everyone she told had their own unique reaction. Schemer was regretful but unsurprised, Schemee was irritable, and yet Mr. Conductor was the worst of them all, because he was entirely unprepared for this answer. She could see the raw sorrow on his face, which cut deeper somehow because they hardly knew each other.
"I'm so sorry to hear, I wasn't expecting that," he sputtered.
She cocked her head to the side. "I understand, but the station is in the best hands possible. I'm not needed here anymore, we saved the day afterall," she explained, weakly, with a shrug.
He slowly lowered himself to a seated position, letting his legs dangle off the railing. He looked up, pondering this.
"Not having a Jones in charge will definitely be strange. But the magic will understand, even if it doesn't agree," he explained quietly.
She sat down on the floor, seated across from him. "Okay so can you explain something to me? When you talk about magic, it sounds like it has a mind of its own. What does it mean? How was the magic able to help us, seemingly without anyone controlling it?"
He smiled. "Nobody controls magic, not really. It has sources, usually rooted in places with significance or links to specific people. Like this one, the magic is very much rooted at the station. You, Schemer, Billy and your families have been around a long time and have very much contributed to keeping it alive and well." He caught the horrified expression on her face. "Now don't panic, if you leave the magic will remain, but it certainly will feel the loss. But like everything, time heals."
She frowned. "So if nobody controls magic, what is it that you do? Or worse yet, that strange man Paul was working for?"
"Conductors simply conduct, we can channel it, bend it to our will even, but within reason. We're more like guardians of places where magic exists. Humans can sometimes wield magic, like what you did, but you still needed my help to facilitate that. However, that man… It is rare but not unheard of for humans to independently wield magic. He seemed to be able to do so, and we still don't know why or how, or what his end goal was, but I do know one thing. He doesn't control it, not as well as he believes. I maintain what I said, nobody controls magic. There's always a price for misuse," he said gravely.
She considered this, twisting her mouth in thought.
He sighed. "I don't want to influence your decision, but I do want to tell you that I believe the risk is low for this man causing trouble anytime soon. He's made himself very visible and now we're on high alert looking for any sign of him. Whoever he is, he won't be free for long."
"That is comforting, thank you," she said gratefully. But what he said gave her pause and she frowned again. "So these 'agents', the ones looking for him. They're presumably some kind of special operation, yes?"
He nodded sagely, but didn't elaborate.
"Okay, I get it, it's top secret. But one weird thing I've noticed is that people around town seem to be forgetting everything that happened. Like they seem entirely unconcerned with the fact that Schemer is back after the huge scandal we caused at his memorial. I figured it had something to do with that investigation team, those agents, and perhaps it was just the way they sold the story but I feel uncomfortable nonetheless. I don't want to lose my memories, but how is it that some people seem to be forgetting when others can't?" she asked. She lowered herself into a seated position on the steps and he quickly disappeared and reappeared on the top step beside her.
"It's a good question, would you want to lose those memories?"
"No!" she said a bit too quickly, "No, I've already had that sort of memory loss happen to me. It was… jarring to say the least. It was an accident caused by our last Conductor and, well, Schemer, but it's okay now. For this situation, no I don't think I'd want to lose them. As traumatic as it all was, I don't think forgetting would help me."
"So you know that there is a way, and yes it's likely they used that technique, shall we say, to influence people's memories gently. It's no doubt a bit of a security concern, can't have too many people talking about magic. But they don't take the decision lightly and generally don't disturb people they trust. You've known about magic your whole life, it would be unfair to take that away."
"So if I leave, they won't erase my memories?" she confirmed.
"No, I daresay they won't. You are a free woman and if your happiness lies elsewhere don't let that stop you," he explained, though still sounded sad.
When she remained silent he looked up at her quizzically.
"If you don't mind me asking a personal question. You are doing this because you think it'll make you happy, yes?"
She swallowed thickly. "I… thought it would. But now I'm not so sure." It was the first time she was able to admit it out loud. "What if I'm making a terrible mistake?" she asked in a small voice.
He patted her hand in a consoling way. "You can always come back. If this is something you need to do to heal, absolutely no one can fault you for trying."
She sighed deeply. "Yes, you're right."
"Take care of yourself Stacy," he said, right before the front door suddenly opened and closed, catching her attention. As Mr. Conductor disappeared in a shower of gold dust she swore she could see a coy smile spreading across his face.
She watched, just out of sight and obscured by the arcade railing, as Schemer entered in a panic. Her box of things was out of sight but she had left her former station master cap on the desk, having decided that she could not part it from the station. He beelined for her desk, noticing it was empty save for the cap. He lifted it up and inspected it, as if hoping it would provide a clue about her whereabouts.
She couldn't see his face but his breathing seemed rough with emotion and she watched as he slowly placed the cap back down and let his head hang to his chest.
It was at that moment that she realized she was wrong about something. She thought her internal conflict had to do with him being the reason she didn't want to leave. But it was only then that she realized that he was the reason she wanted to stay.
She cleared her throat quietly. He spun on his heel abruptly, and she felt the air escape her lungs as she saw him. His expression was open, vulnerable; she could see the depth of emotion behind those brown eyes. His lower lip was slightly pouted, and as he realized she was there the relief he felt was palpable. He slowly opened his palm and outstretched it towards her.
"I'm sorry for breaking the rules again," he said mournfully, "I just couldn't bear the thought of letting you leave this place alone."
She felt a small smile dance across her face but he wasn't finished. He crossed the station and came to meet her at the steps.
"Please. Don't leave now that's getting good again. None of this is worth it if I can't have you with me. I can't do this without you. I need you."
Any resistance she had finally broke down to give way to acceptance. He was here, this was him. He put on the top step, hand still outstretched.
"Please." His eyes were pleading with her. No one had ever looked at her with that much unrestrained emotion.
A shaky, ragged gasp escaped her lips involuntarily and she launched herself towards him. He caught her as she gripped the lapels of sport coat, sobbing into his dress shirt. His arms wrapped firmly around her, placing one hand around the back of her head as he pulled her in close.
"What can I do to make it better?" he asked, his voice a quiet rumble in her ear.
The sobs subsided and she took a few gulps of air. "Just… just never let go," she whispered, pulling her head back to take in the sight of him.
He smiled and pressed his cheek against hers, "That can be arranged."
She let out the cross of a laugh and a sob and, still firmly held in his arms, they stood nose to nose, one of his hands entangled in her hair holding her head close to his. She moved her hands from his chest to either side of his face. She pulled him into a deep kiss that he gratefully reciprocated.
In that one moment, all the pain of the past several weeks had been completely forgotten, and they could feel the love begin to heal their broken hearts back together as one. Breaking apart, their foreheads rested together and they stared into each other's eyes, taking in the beautiful sight and feeling of finally being reunited and in each other's arms. There were no words to say to each other, their actions said enough.