30 - Gresley's Grove
"Oh it's you dirtying up the LNER with your ugly shape."
The City of Truro didn't even need to see the other engine to recognise who it was.
"At least I'm not an overweight, overstuffed sausage that the rails tremble and groan under," City of Truro bit back savagely and he could practically feel the heat coming from the now angered LNER express engine.
"How dare you!" Flying Scotsman thundered. "Maybe you should learn some manners from Pendennis Castle! She at the very least knows how to conduct herself on another's railway!"
"A railway that's run like a circus!" Truro hissed back at him. "All its top-line express engines are ugly, crude experiments! You should trim down that boiler of yours, maybe you won't break the rails!"
"Such cheek! Talking to me like that!" Scotsman shrieked indignantly. "You'd speak to the superintendent like that?!"
"I speak to people who aren't worth my time like this!" The Great Western snarled. "You're not worthy of even being in the presence of a Great Western like myself!"
"Pendennis Castle thinks otherwise," Scotsman smirked, a cocky grin upon his face.
For some reason, the smirk angered the City class more than any insult that the LNER Pacific had said.
"Pendennis Castle is a Young Iron and should know better than to consort with the likes of you!" Truro shouted at him and Scotsman just gave a cocky chuckle in response. Truro continued, "It is truly abominable how you've led such a wonderful engine astray! You don't deserve her!"
"My, my, sounds like you're jealous of your friend," Scotsman smirked, a guile look in his eyes. "I do like Great Westerns, I think they're pretty. You, however? You're old and fat, not to my taste at all-"
"Flying Scotsman!" A voice thundered and Scotsman immediately fell silent as Quicksilver steamed into the station, a look of shock on her face. "I know that your behaviour has been indignant as of late but this is truly disgraceful! Embarrassing us in front of a Great Western! I am disgusted at you!"
Flying Scotsman bit his lip, glaring at his cousin but said nothing in return.
City of Truro sat at the platform equally as silent, Scotsman's words ringing in his eyes. He was vaguely aware of Scotsman arguing with his cousin but he didn't hear them.
Scotsman's words had cut deep and Truro didn't know why.
It did not help that Pendennis was currently refusing to talk to him, his constant demands for her to stop seeing Scotsman had put a wedge in their relationship.
Pendennis was probably the only Great Western that came to visit him these days.
… because she was seeing Scotsman behind the sheds… the logical voice in the back of his smokebox told him but he ignored it.
He humphed, pushing his conflicting feelings away and snapped at the arguing cousins before him.
"You LNER engines are nothing but uncouth, undignified upstarts!" He shrieked furiously and with a furious wheesh, hissed steam at them and quickly retreated from the platform before the two Gresley's could see the tears rolling down his face.
"What did Lady mean by showing me your Human Construct?" Scotsman asked Truro as he stared at the space where the glittery and delightful little engine had been. "Did she mean that you can use Gold Dust to appear human too?"
"It is the ability of a Golden Warden but I do not ever use it," the City of Truro muttered flustered. "I am not pretty or handsome."
Scotsman snorted in response.
"That doesn't matter," he scoffed. "As long as you are Truro, I do not care if you have 7 arms and an upside down face."
"It matters to me," Truro insisted. "I- I do not think you would like it?"
"Why?"
"I just- don't-" was all Truro lamely offered.
Scotsman was annoyed now.
"Do you really think appearances matter to me?" He asked incredulously. "After all we've been through? What difference does it make if you're not pretty? Or if you have blemishes?"
"It used to matter to you," Truro pointed out and Scotsman stared at him, dumbfounded.
"You can't actually be serious Truro? After everything that happened with Mallard?" Scotsman asked incredulously. "You almost lost your soul trying to save me! I really do not give a single care what you look like as a human! It's not important to me!"
Truro blushed but felt extremely flustered.
"Well it matters to me!" Truro explained quickly. "You are the most famous engine in the world! How does it look when you have a fat, ugly straw-haired partner on your arm!"
Scotsman was stunned. He had never expected that.
"I- Truro," he began but was cut off.
"I can't change it! No matter what I do!" Truro snapped, uncharacteristically angry. "Everytime I use my human construct it's the same ugly face and overweight body! I hate it! I'll never be good enough for you!"
"Truro please-" Scotsman begged, concern written all over his face. "You are perfect! Please don't talk about yourself like this, it hurts me when you do."
Truro ignored him and humphed before storming out of the shed.
"You used to revel in such words not even 70 years ago," the Great Western snapped back and immediately regretted it when he saw the hurt in Scotsman's eyes.
"That was- unnecessary," Scotsman croaked, his voice pained. "Trahaearn…"
Truro shuddered when he heard Scotsman's call out his true name.
One day he would have to show him, but not today.
He would have to spend the day working out how to apologise to Scotsman for his outburst.
He really wished that it would not bother him but even after all these years, it still did.
Tydfil hid at the back of Tidmouth sheds where Thomas had somehow magically teleported them away from the shrieking, screaming mess that had once been King Edward I.
He was talking to her, explaining what their plan had been, something about baiting King Edward I into crashing into one of the older fish units so that the railway and markets had an excuse to upgrade facilities while ratting out Ms Parsons and her cronies.
Thomas voiced his concerns to her but she wasn't listening, she didn't care. Eventually, Thomas realised that she wasn't paying him any mind and stopped talking, content to simply sit beside her, occasionally reassuring her that he was there.
"If you're ever feeling scared or someone has threatened you can come to me and I'll help you out," Thomas assured her and Tydfil sniffed.
"I wish I knew that before," she mumbled shakily. "Right now I just want to be as far as I can from this Island right now."
She sniffed, tears welling up in her eyes.
"My entire life has been a lie and now Ms Maindy is gone!" Tydfil wailed loudly. "I only just reconciled with her and now she's gone! Merfyn took her from me!"
"Merfyn?" Thomas asked, confused.
"King Edward I, it's his true name," Tydfil muttered distaste in her voice. "I don't want anything to do with the Great Western anymore! I don't want to ever see another Great Western engine ever again!"
Thomas was silent as Tydfil burst into tears, the long and quite frankly traumatising night getting to the poor girl.
"I want to leave! I- I-" Tydfil stopped as she realised something.
Where would she go? Didcot had too many Great Westerns and apart from Sodor that was the only place she'd ever really been.
"I- I don't know what to do," Tydfil whimpered and Thomas looked concerned.
"We'll think of something," Thomas assured her. "Maybe you could go South or North-East?"
Tydfil just sniffed. She didn't really want to go anywhere. She didn't really know all that much outside the bounds of Didcot on the Mainland.
She really was a child, she realised.
"I don't know," was all she could lamely offer. "Just, keep any Great Western's away from me."
Thomas gave her a small smile.
"I can certainly do that for you Lady Tydfil!" The blue tank engine exclaimed brightly and Tydfil felt a small spark of joy in her boiler.
"You're so happy all the time," she commented ruefully and Thomas chuckled.
"I'm a happy-go-lucky engine!" Thomas seemed to puff himself up on his frames. "Even when things are dire, I always try to see the light in the dark."
"I wish I could do that," Tydfil muttered looking down at her buffers. "My mind tends to come up with the worst scenarios."
"It can be an effort," Thomas admitted. "And I'm not naïve like some of the engines may think I am. I'm fully aware of just how horrible the world is and what horrors we have faced. I've felt the worst of depression and I've lost my entire family. But, sometimes all you need is a spark in your firebox to keep going."
Tydfil just sighed, depressed and looked away from Thomas sadly.
"I don't really have-" she then stopped and she looked at her buffers. "I suppose I have Ms Evening Star. She came to save me and I don't even know her that well. We only met like a day ago."
"It does take time to make friends, yes, but I think Evening Star needs a good friend," Thomas mused thoughtfully. "I'll let Sir Topham Hatt know that you'd like to spend time with Evening Star."
"Would you?" Tydfil asked hopefully. "I'd appreciate that."
Thomas smiled. "There, it's not all doom and gloom now is it? How about Daisy and Ryan?"
Tydfil smiled as she thought of them and Thomas chuckled.
"I think you have a lot more friends than you realise Tydfil," he remarked and Tydfil blushed.
She really did.
"I suppose I do!" She piped up, despite herself. She then frowned as she thought of something. "But what about the King Edward's? They won't give up! And Clun Castle! They won't-"
"Don't you worry about them, they'll get what's coming to them," Thomas assured the young iron and Tydfil just frowned in response.
"Well, as long as they stay away from me, I don't care!" She huffed, some of her spicy attitude returning to her and Thomas laughed.
"You're a very eccentric engine Tydfil!" Thomas commented and Tydfil gave him a sideways glance.
"So are you, Thomas the Tank Engine," she retorted.
Thomas the Tank Engine just laughed heartily in response.
Olivia hadn't felt herself fall asleep but she was very certain that she had. She found herself in a realm without colour and devoid of sound.
She'd been here many times before, drawn here by Pretty Polly in her dreams so they could talk.
"They didn't mention Great Northern," Polly lamented and Olivia turned to look at the A3 Pacific towering above her, a 'crown' around her chimney and the number 60061 on her buffer beam.
Olivia's eyes widened in shock when she saw the state of the engine. Parts of her were missing, entire parts of her boiler were void, her cylinders were missing and she had half a tender behind her. She was rusted, plants grew over her and almost all her paint had peeled off.
It was like she was fading from existence, forgetting who she truly was. Like she was glitching or rust was slowly devouring her engine.
"Pretty Polly," Olivia exclaimed, her voice laced with horror. "You're disappearing."
Polly just stared at Olivia, heartbreak in her large golden eyes. Said eyes were losing their colour and turning grey and white almost like she was blind. It shook Olivia to her core.
She did not want to lose her lifelong companion.
"I severed the connection to my engine to protect you. Without my soul, it's rusting away," Polly sadly proclaimed. "I wouldn't change it, but I fear that time has caught up with it. I'm giving my Gold Dust to save you. It's gone so long without touching my soul that my engine may as well be dust at this point."
Olivia's expression turned to one of deep sadness as she approached the fading engine and placed a hand on her bufferbeam, her heart pounding in her ears. Her heart sounded weak, slow and irregular but Olivia ignored it.
She placed a hand on Polly's buffer beam and felt its warm embrace. Polly gave a sad chuckle as she gazed down at Olivia.
"You used to be so small, you couldn't even reach my buffers when I first shared my Gold Dust with you," Polly reminisced. "Now look at you, you've grown so much."
Olivia said nothing, she just looked straight ahead, staring at Polly's buffers. Her expression was one of fear.
"I don't want to die," Olivia whispered to Polly, terrified. "I don't want you too either."
"I have faith in my brother," Polly tried to reassure her but the underlying tone in her voice suggested that she wasn't entirely sold on the thought that Scotsman would save them.
"What about Lady? Can she help?" Olivia asked Polly and the A3 sighed in frustration.
"I think if she could, she would have healed you when you were a child," Polly remarked. "She is a fickle entity and she does not often intervene. Something about interfering with the fabric of reality and the flow of time."
Olivia clicked her tongue and looked down as she felt baby Polly move within her womb. Even through her clothes she could see Polly's Gold Dust encasing the babe in a protective cocoon. It felt warm and full of life compared to the ice cold tendrils of black smoke she could feel coursing through her veins.
"I may try to hurry the child along," Polly murmured despondently. "Your body is weakening."
Olivia looked terrified but nodded in understanding.
"Do what you need to to save the baby," Olivia ordered Polly. "I just hope that Scotsman gets his shit together in time."
"Perhaps North will return and come up with something," Polly mused quietly. "Despite his flaws, Great Northern is incredibly intelligent and he is persistent, even at the cost of his own health. It's one of the few aspects of him that isn't horrid."
Polly stopped as she suddenly saw Olivia's face. Tears were suddenly streaming down her cheeks.
"Precious Olivia, why are you crying?" The A3 asked concerned.
Olivia sniffed and tried to wipe her tears away but they kept coming for no apparent reason.
"I- I don't know," Olivia replied, puzzled. "Does it have something to do with North? Can you sense him?"
"I can barely sense you, dear child," Polly regretfully answered. "My attention is only for your baby right now."
Olivia looked back down at her gravid stomach as tears still streamed down her face. Baby Polly had grown bigger, stronger but Olivia did not like what it was costing.
"If I survive will the Gold Dust have any other effects on me?" Olivia asked, less out of curiosity and more of a distraction to try and stop crying. "How much is too much? What if I can't expel the excess Gold Dust? Will what happened to Sir James Wakely happen to me? The man overdosed on Gold Dust and died a horrible death. They couldn't even give him a funeral.
"I don't know," Polly admitted. "Perhaps. Or perhaps the Gold Dust will return to Scotsman. Or perhaps it will create a new soul inside you and you'll have to deal with another voice inside your mind besides myself. I do not know in this respect."
"Well, North better get his arse up and return to me so we can get this sorted," Olivia proclaimed and Polly chuckled at her sudden boisterousness. This was the Olivia she remembered and adored. "You mentioned a while ago that North saved your engine."
Polly hummed thoughtful in response.
"He did. He took me from where myself and Merry sat awaiting our fate," she revealed. "He used Gold Dust to transport me to Gresley's old workshop, underground. I don't know what happened to Merry. He wouldn't say a thing when I asked him about her. North saved a lot of engines though. He was determined to redeem himself but in the end, he always felt it was never enough. I do miss Merry though. She was my closest sister."
"I'm so sorry," Olivia lamented and Polly just sighed.
"As sad as it is, the pain has faded and does not compare to all the engines we lost," Polly glumly retorted.``Merry was just another one of thousands and we both knew it was coming. We had accepted our fates and my only regret is I never got to say goodbye to her. But still, we were together, at the end."
Olivia looked at the ground downhearted. She did not like it when Polly sounded hopeless.
"You're still here, Scotsman and Gordon are preserved," Olivia assured Polly.
The A3 gave her a sad smile.
"If I could just stay a little longer, I'd quite like to meet Gordon, I adored the Railway books," She sighed wistfully. "He seems such a fantastic engine. So heroic and grand! A shame I never met my famous brother!"
Olivia chuckled and nodded to her.
"He is very heroic and grand," Olivia assured her, she clasped her hands over her swollen belly which shone like a beacon, the gold dust pulsing inside her. "Seems like we both have things to live for, Lady Polly?"
Polly giggled and blushed.
"Indeed we do, Lady Gresley."
"You scared her off!" Murdoch snapped at King Edward II and the King Class shook his frames agitated in response.
"I didn't mean to!" The Great Western defended. "I was trying to warn her to keep away from my brother!"
"Well it's a bit late for that now isn't it!" The usually calm and collected orange 9F snapped at the glitzy engine in its fancy paint and spotless shine. "You King Class's seem to be nothing but trouble!"
King Edward II humphed indignantly, upset at being called, 'nothing but trouble' but with a second glance to the huge engine he decided not to confront him.
He very much preferred to be intact and picking a fight with a 9F usually meant that you would not be intact for very long.
"I'm trying to be better," the King Class finally admitted as he contemplated his thoughts.
Murdoch however did not look convinced and just frowned at him.
"I need to stop my brother!" He insisted. "He and that woman are going to do something foolish if they haven't already?"
Murdoch looked worried but also confused, his frown deepened. He said nothing more as the both of them stopped at Wellsworth. A Sterling Single was sitting in a siding and she gave King Edward II a strange look.
"Hello Emily," Murdoch greeted the Single and Emily gave him a sweet smile.
"Hello Murdoch, long night isn't it?" She commented, her eyes not leaving King Edward II who began to shift on his frames uncomfortably.
"It's not over yet," Murdoch muttered with a glance to King Edward II who felt his face burn and the pressure in his boiler rise slightly. "This fella chased Tydfil towards his brother."
"It wasn't intentional!" King Edward II snapped at the 9F.
Emily frowned.
"Ah, so that's what caused all this panic," Emily realised and wheeshed steam in the King Class's direction. "A pox on you, you ridiculous thing."
King Edward II humphed.
"My name is Rhion," he pointed and tried to draw the attention away from him, thinking it best to introduce himself to the Single. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of ever meeting a Stirling Single before."
Emily blushed, affected by the Great Western's words but she shook herself out of it and glared at him.
"Don't you go changing the subject!" Emily scoffed. "You've caused us to scramble and change our plans at the last minute!"
King Edward II humphed and looked at his buffers. He did not like being spoken down upon by such engines but he was very aware of the position he was in. He was here to make amends with Tydfil and maybe his brother. He did not want to antagonise an entire railway like his brother.
Merfyn had always been impulsive and arrogant to a dangerous degree. It was probably why he got along with that narcissistic woman.
"I apologise," Rhion tried to placate the Single. "It was not my intent."
Emily just gave him a disapproving hum and looked at Murdoch. If the 9F could shrug, he would have.
"How's your sister?" Emily asked Murdoch, deciding to ignore the Great Western.
Murdoch gave a nervous chuckle and looked away from Emily.
"What happened?" Emily sighed, immediately catching onto something.
Murdoch pursed his lips, agitated now.
"Imagine if you will, myself if I got angry and let people know about it in the worst way possible," the 9F put forward and Emily looked alarmed now.
"Ah, that must be why Sir Topham asked me to take over the night train from Gordon," Emily realised, anxiety still on her face. "I doubt that he'd be able to stop a 9F though. Maybe he should have taken Henry."
Murdoch just frowned.
"We'll see what happens I guess," Emily suggested but the 9F and King Class just glanced at each other, doubt in their eyes.
Murdoch was about to speak when there was a sudden commotion on the platform beside King Edward II.
"Oi you!" The Station Master shouted at a person close to Rhion's cab. "Get away from the engine and back behind the yellow line! Damn, trespasser!"
"I don't think you know who I am," a voice sneered and King Edward II's eyes widened in panic.
No, not her.
An ice-cold feeling began to creep down his tender and envelope his cab as the woman ignored the stationmaster and pushed his crew out of the way, climbing into his cab.
"Get off of me!" Rhion shrieked furiously. He shook his frames violently, inadvertently throwing his crew from his cab but Ms Parson clung on to him like a disgusting barnacle.
"You are one of my engines, you will do as I say!" Parsons shouted at the King Class, stomping her foot on his footplate like a child.
"No!" Rhion shouted furiously and shook his frames even harder in response. "I'm not one of your toys! Get away from me!"
"You will do as I say!" Ms Parsons shouted furiously at the King Class.
"No!" Rhion shouted, refusing to move when Parsons released his brake.
"You. Will," Parsons demanded, her voice lowering into a deep growl as sharp pains, like icicles penetrating deep into his boiler suddenly erupted and he screamed.
"Stop it!" Rhion shrieked as a confusing sensation that was neither hot nor cold but completely eldritch and just iwrong/i filled his boiler and tender. "No- no! Please! Stop!"
"Rhion!" He heard the Stirling Single call to him but her voice was nothing but a muffled haze as the world around him began to spin, colours turning into a sickening pinwheel that made his smokebox feel uneasy.
He had no idea what happened next, as he felt the rails beneath him fall away into nothing and a pain so intense ripped through his boiler that he passed out and thought no more.
'I should not have assaulted Mallard,' Scotsman thought to himself as he fought his way through the darkened forest. Branches and leaves scratched him and got in his way, almost as if the forest itself was trying to stop him from reaching Mallard.
Mallard always had an affinity for nature. He had an affinity for many things it seemed.
His thoughts drifted to jealousy. He'd always been mystified about how well Mallard got on with Sir Gresley, his fascination with the man's ducks and his love of birds. He'd often seen Mallard and Sir Gresley laughing together and it irked him deep in his boiler.
It made him question if he was the favourite engine anymore. Probably not, he was always the favourite but Sir Gresley treated Mallard as a friend and an equal.
The way the two spoke, it was more than just a designer and engine relationship. The man would gleefully explain things or tell Mallard things about birds occasionally.
Scotsman did not want to admit it but they made him jealous.
He doesn't like those thoughts. They weren't him, he was not a jealous engine.
His thoughts were abruptly stopped when a branch suddenly swung back and smacked him in the face, hard.
He yelped in pain and fell straight onto his back with a groan, staring up at the night sky, pink and purple glow illuminating the clouds as dawn slowly came to the forest.
A golden glow caught the corner of his eye and he sat up, looking around.
It seemed to be coming from a lamp, one like Mallard's Scotsman frowned to himself.
That lamp of his had been projecting Gold Dust as if it were a small star. He'd never seen anything like it, not even the Golden Well at Ulfstead had shone so brilliantly.
Picking himself off of the forest floor with a grunt, he headed towards the Golden Light, knowing that Mallard would be waiting for him.
Hendrick had said it was a Gold Dust artefact but he had virtually no idea what that meant or what to do about it. It was some engine named 'Proteus's lamp and it granted wishes. If he could take it from Mallard and use it to wish Olivia and Polly back to health it would solve his problem.
Did it only work for engines though? Scotsman's mind began to race. What if it did not affect Olivia? She was human after all. What was he going to do? How was he supposed to save her then?
He began to panic and stress but it was soon stopped when a loud squawk sounded right beside his head and the next thing he knew a large raven had swooped him, its beak grazing his neck and leaving a nip in his neck.
Scotsman shrieked and tried to swat at the bird but it had flown out of his reach before he had even gone to grab at him. The bird perched on a nearby branch and flared itself out intimidatingly, hissing and cawing at him.
It was a second too late before Scotsman realised that Mallard had snuck up behind him and struck at him with an old iron bar. It missed his head by inches and caught him in the shoulder, pain exploding in his chest and neck as he felt his collarbone snap.
He howled in pain at the strike but managed to catch the weapon and grab onto it with his uninjured arm. He tried to pull it away from Mallard but the other man was stronger.
"Leave me alone!" Mallard demanded of him, trying to strike out at him again. "Why won't you leave me alone!"
"Stop! Stop! I didn't come to fight!" Scotsman desperately tried to placate his enraged cousin. "It's about Olivia! She needs help!"
"What of her?" Mallard hissed angrily, advancing towards Scotsman and trying to back him against a tree. "Why would she need my help?"
"She's dying!" Scotsman implored Mallard. "I am sorry for attacking you, I've had- I've had nothing but horrible things happen to me all night!"
"Oh, and trying to slam my head into a wall was some kind of relaxation technique was it?" Mallard hissed at him. He'd lowered the iron bar and seemed curious about what Scotsman had to say now but was still highly alert and ready to attack from his body language.
"You were there with Great Northern's corpse," Scotsman pointed out. "What else was I supposed to think, especially when you have a history of threatening him and going to kill him."
"How many times do I have to tell you that I did not kill Great Northern!" Mallard stated firmly through gritted teeth. The taller man in his blue fox coat seemed irritated at having to repeat himself.
Scotsman grimaced and gripped his left arm, trying to lessen the pain Mallard had inflicted on him.
"Lady told me that I should not be so quick to judge when I found out what happened to North," Scotsman muttered to himself. "She said that I should listen to what you say."
Mallard frowned at him.
"Who is this Lady?" The famous A4 ground out, eyeing Scotsman suspiciously. It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with this Mallard was curious as to why Scotsman needed that Lamp and who this Lady was.
"A deity that was the first locomotive," Scotsman explained. "One who moves and breathes Gold Dust and pure souls. One who gave part of her soul to me so I may watch over the railways across the world."
"What are you talking about!" Mallard snapped. "I've had enough of this! Go back to civilization and leave me to my ducks!"
Mallard raised the bar again to strike at him but the raven that had attacked Scotsman earlier suddenly leapt from its perch and managed to land on the iron bar, squawking at Mallard incessantly.
"Gadwall, get off!" Mallard snarled at the bird, but the bird refused to listen instead protesting loudly in Mallard's face.
"Gadwall? As in your brother?" Scotsman asked confusedly as he stared at the bird. "I never met Gadwall as an engine."
Mallard snorted in response and Gadwall pecked his hand, eliciting a hiss from Mallard.
"Probably for the better," Mallard sneered at Scotsman. "Gadwall would have been susceptible to your pretences and veiled personality."
Scotsman frowned at him. He did not like what Mallard was saying.
"What do you mean?"
"It was one of the reasons I never liked you and found you an idiotic engine," Mallard retorted, looking at Scotsman with disdain. "You were always like North, always worried about what everyone thought. Always trying to impress those whose opinions didn't matter, when you should have answered to your betters. But no, you were content at stealing money from engines like Arrow!"
Scotsman was hurt by the accusation. It was true though. Most of his life he tried to impress and please everyone. And he had never meant to steal Arrow's rebuild.
"Like you didn't do the same thing going on about your record! Besides! It was what Sir Gresley expected of me, I was supposed to be a good role model for everyone, engines and people," Scotsman tried to defend himself. He then frowned. "And I never meant to hurt Arrow. Why did you manipulate Arrow anyway? I thought smaller engines weren't worth your time."
"Green Arrow is smart and I appreciate his company and intellect," Mallard praised, he then appeared hurt and regretful. "Had North not hammered into me the discrimination against his class, I do believe that Arrow would have been one of my closest friends. Ah, too late for that now. I believe he would like to see me dead."
Scotsman frowned. Mallard seemed to be genuinely upset at the fact that Green Arrow wanted to see him dead.
"You ordered his driver to tear out his voice box, you didn't care about him at all!" Scotsman accused and Mallard glared at him, angered.
"Green Arrow was the only thing in all those years of being soulless that I felt even a sliver of hope, but my insane desire to kill you overrode that! I don't know why, you're a pathetic kettle!" Mallard retorted. "And it's not like you cared about me! You said you did but where were you when Thompson stole my Gold Dust from me!?"
"I couldn't even save my siblings! If it weren't for Gordon I would have been alone! So why would I? You tried to kill me several times!" Scotsman shouted back at him. "You at least had siblings around you! I couldn't even visit Gordon when I needed to! I needed my siblings but there was no one! Do you have any idea how lonely that is!"
Mallard said nothing. He simply stared at Scotsman as he ranted.
"When you attempted to have me scrapped, there were times when I wished you had succeeded!" Scotsman continued to rant. "You have no idea the pain I have been through these past 100 years so I'm sorry that if constantly forcing myself to be happy for these stupid crowds when my entire life was hell got on your nerves, Mallard!"
Mallard frowned and looked to the ground, appearing as if he was ashamed. He looked as if he wanted to speak but Scotsman continued, as if yelling at Mallard was chartetic of him.
"Yet- yet I still saved you and gave you my soul! I still question myself why I did that! Especially after what you did to Truro! You broke him! I almost lost him because of you!"
Mallard paused, he stared at Scotsman and saw tears slipping down his face.
"You tortured and almost killed Truro and yet I still wanted you to live…" Scotsman exclaimed exasperated, an expression of pure confusion on his face. "Why… Why did I want you to live?! You almost took the person who gave me a reason to live when everything went wrong, when I was ready to give up… Why do I still care about you…?"
Mallard was silent. Scotsman could feel his eyes on him and Gadwall had not made a sound.
He bowed his head and refused to look at Mallard.
Scotsman could hear himself, he sounded heartbroken and he hated it. He didn't want to appear weak in front of Mallard but… it could not be helped.
After an eternity, Mallard finally spoke.
"I'm sorry Flying Scotsman. Truly, I am."
There was a soft thud as Mallard dropped the iron bar he'd attacked Scotsman with.
A peace offering.
Scotsman stared at Mallard, taking in his appearance.
He looked exhausted, broken… lonely.
Gadwall gave a sad croak and nuzzled into Mallard's cheek, the man reaching up and gently scratching the bird for comfort.
The apology wasn't a lie. He knew when Mallard would lie and this wasn't one of them. He was being genuine and Scotsman felt something lift from his shoulders.
The tension in the air seemed to clear as if something had been settled. Both of them did not know why but it felt as if a mutual understanding had been reached.
"What makes you think I can help Olivia?" Mallard asked quietly after a long moment, his tone full of curiosity and concern.
Scotsman blinked and shook his head. It was almost as if he was seeing Mallard in a new light. As if something had changed.
"This grove, no, the entire forest is very strange," Mallard muttered, seeming to confirm that the shift in the air between them wasn't just his imagination. "It isn't… normal."
Scotsman just gave a soft grunt, trying to ignore the pain in his collar.
"That lamp of yours. Proteus's lamp, it's said to grant wishes," Scotsman pointed out. "You can use it to heal Olivia back to full health and perhaps restore Pretty Polly."
"Pretty Polly," Mallard mumbled and frowned. "I knew there was a reason Olivia felt so familiar. A human with a Golden Soul. Even through the Black Smoke I recognised her."
Scotsman motioned to Mallard.
"Give me the lamp so I can save Olivia!" Scotsman desperately encouraged him but Mallard wasn't listening. He was staring at the raven perched on his shoulder who was cawing softly in his ear.
Scotsman then realised what Mallard was considering. Of course he would consider bringing back Gadwall. Giving his younger brother his voice, his body back.
"Mallard-"
Mallard glared at Scotsman.
"You won't take Gadwall from me," Mallard hissed at Scotsman who now glared at him.
"Mallard please- Think of Olivia-"
"No! Olivia is a human! She will eventually die, Gadwall is an engine, he can and will outlast her!"
"She's Sir Gresley's granddaughter!" Scotsman shouted at him furiously. "You can't turn your back on her on his legacy!"
"Then perhaps I could wish for Sir Nigel Gresley himself back, yes?" Mallard snapped back at Scotsman.
Scotsman glared at him.
"She's expecting a baby, Mallard, don't be so cold hearted," Scotsman hissed through gritted teeth. "Polly's soul is destroying itself to keep her alive. You'd be killing three people!"
Mallard narrowed his eyes and the two of them glared at each other for a long while. He then frowned at Scotsman and turned away from him, moving to walk away from Scotsman.
Scotsman glared at him and went to stop him, grabbing at Mallard's shoulder.
"Don't walk away from this Malla-"
Scotsman hadn't noticed when Mallard had picked the iron bar back up but he certainly did a split second before it came crashing into the side of his head.
There was a sickening crack and Flying Scotsman crumbled to the ground, the last thing he heard was the scream of a raven in the distance.