33 - Proteus

It's been a while and this comes up a lot in this chapter, so here's a reminder of the Great Western Engines' true names:

City of Truro: Trahaearn

Pendennis Castle: (Heledd - Deadname) | Beynon

King George V: Eurion

Clun Castle: Meredith

Caerphilly Castle: Angharad

Trojan: Hywell

Lode Star: Seren

Duck: Montague

Lady of Legend: Tydfil

King Edward I: Merfyn

King Edward II: Rhion

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Scott, can we talk?" Truro asked of his stalwart companion.

Scotsman's half-asleep face brightened slightly and he gave Truro a tired smile. There was a hurt still deep in his eyes though.

"About not showing me your human construct?" Scotsman asked.

"Yes, I feel that I explained myself poorly and I hurt you unintentionally," Truro admitted. "I am sorry. I never meant to offend you or cause you distress, my dear."

"I just don't understand why you can't show me," Scotsman explained quietly. "I was so vulnerable, I've trusted you with everything I would deem sensitive. I thought we agreed to be open with each other. I can't be in a relationship where only one side is completely open and the other hides everything. I've shown you so much, you saw me at my worst, when my engine was falling apart, when I was so near death. Yet, you still conceal things from me that are bothering you."

Scotsman signed and looked away from Truro. "I'm just frustrated Trahaearn. Not being open with each other is the reason Pendennis and I split up. I don't want the same thing to happen to us."

"I know, I'm sorry," Truro apologised. "But it's, it's because I feel unworthy of you."

Scotsman was surprised.

"Still? After all this time? Truro, you are probably the only engine worth my time save for my brother and Tornado," Scotsman attested and Truro blushed deeply. "There are days when I long to be alone with you and no other. I have never felt that with any other engine, not even Pendennis. Only you."

Truro felt tears well behind his eyes. He wanted to believe Scotsman, he truly did but that nasty voice in the back of his smokebox still hissed and told him otherwise.

"I am flattered and I feel like I should know that but there's always this voice in the back of my smokebox that tells me I'm not and, and I think it's the reason why my human construct is just a stupid, short, fat ugly thing!" Truro was shouting now, catching Scotsman off guard. Tears were leaking from his eyes and in a rare moment, Truro was crying.

Truro never let himself cry, it was undignified. Yet here he was. He didn't mind though, he knew Scotsman would not judge him. Maybe Scotsman would even be relieved, he was showing his feelings to him.

He heard Scotsman approach him and gently press his buffers against his in comfort. Truro leaned into the touch desperately.

For a long moment they sat there, the only sound was Truro's soft sobs.

"I won't force you to show me your human construct," Scotsman softly whispered to him after what seemed like an eternity. "I know that you'll eventually show me when you are comfortable and ready but I need you to know that I love you, no matter what you look like."

"I know, I know," was all Truro could respond with.

An eternity passed as Flying Scotsman and City of Truro sat there, the previous tension evaporating leaving only a warm, comforting air as their steam intermingled with each others.

"Thank you dear," Truro quietly murmured as he released his grip on their buffer hold. "I am grateful for your patience with me. I know it can be difficult at times."

Scotsman smiled at him kindly.

"Of course Trahaearn, you do the same for me, why wouldn't I return the favour?" he responded and Truro blushed.

"I simply adore it when you use my true name," Truro mumbled and Scotsman chuckled.

"Traaaa-hae-arrrrn," the larger engine repeated, drawing out the syllables purposefully and Truro blushed even deeper.

"You're just making fun of me now."

"I would never."

"Rhion."

A voice echoed through the cold, through the darkness, stirring the weakened engine's consciousness from its nightmare.

"Where am I?" The King Class croaked out weakly and a sympathetic sigh as he felt a touch to his buffers.

Rhion seemed to jolt out of the strange dark place his mind had floated within and found himself looking up into the eyes of his eldest brother, the current Warden of the Great Western. He looked outside the strange shed he was in and found that the sky had turned to night.

How long had his mind wandered that he hadn't even realised that the entire day had passed and night had fallen? Why was he losing so much time? How long had passed since they had dragged the Parsons woman away to the authorities?

"King George?" Rhion asked, his voice timid and frightened. "What's happening to me? Why am I losing so much time? What's going on?"

His brother stared at him, his expression distraught and pained.

"I'm sorry, little brother," King George lamented. "You may call me, Eurion."

Rhion stared at him in complete shock. His brother was revealing his true name to him, giving him power over his soul in a way.

Why…?

Fear filled King Edward II's boiler as he suddenly realised how serious his condition was.

"No, brother please, brother please," Rhion pleaded to his brother but Eurion looked away from him, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

"You have the Cold Iron Sleep," King George V regretfully revealed and tears immediately welled up in King Edward II's eyes.

"I'm going to die!" Rhion cried out in terror. "Or I'm going to turn into a ghoul like Mallard!"

"No, no Rhion that's not going to happen," Eurion quickly cut in but his younger brother did not listen.

"There's no cure!" He shrieked, his frames trembling violently in fear. "No engine has been cured of it!"

"That's not true, Scotsman fully recovered from it," King George quickly pointed out but his younger sibling wasn't hearing him. "City of Truro is on the mend from his infection."

"I don't want to die!" The shuddering King Class pleaded desperately, ignoring Eurion. "I'm sorry for everything! I'm sorry for hurting Tydfil please-"

There was a sharp jolt to his buffers and Rhion snapped out of it. He looked up and found Eurion was buffer to buffer with him.

"That's enough now dear brother," Eurion murmured kindly to the younger engine. "Fretting will achieve nothing but make you more anxious. We will do our best to save you but you must promise to fight and not give in to despair."

Rhion stopped his mewling and willed himself to calm down.

His brother was right. Flying Scotsman had the Cold Iron Sleep and now the engine was celebrating his 100th. City of Truro had lost his sentience briefly, he'd been technically dead until Scotsman had dragged him back from wherever engines went after they died.

Embers of hope flickered and started to warm his firebox.

They had survived, maybe he would too.

He looked back at his brother who was watching him with concern deep in his eyes.

King Edward II gave a shaky and nervous breath which unintentionally came out as a distress laugh.

"I won't give up brother, giving up is not the Great Western Way," he eventually managed to promise and Eurion beamed at his younger brother proudly.

"You're a true Great Western like Truro himself, brother!" Eurion boomed with a grandiose voice, trying to lift his brother's mood.

Rhion could only manage a half-hearted chuckle but to Eurion it meant everything. It meant that there was hope that his brother could be saved.

"Could you tell Merfyn about me?" Rhion suddenly asked and Eurion gave him a reassuring smile.

Despite their differences, his twin brother was everything to

"Of course Rhion, I'll let Mr Corbyn know that you wish to let your brother know of your condition," Eurion assured his younger brother. "You're going to get through this Rhion, chin up old boy!"

Rhion managed to give the elder engine a smile.

"You're right, I've been through worse," The King Class reflected. "I survived dieselisation, I can survive this. I was left in the scrapyard for a decade, this will be nothing!"

Eurion grinned at his younger brother, delighted by this sudden surge in ambition. The King Class always did have that bombastic ego to them and it was good to see King Edward II regain it.

"That's the spirit!" King George approved and suddenly the darkness that had crept into Rhion's mind was retreating into corners.

He was a King Class of the Great Western Railway.

He would not shame the Great Western with such weakness, especially if the Flying Scotsman had beaten this.

And he would not be bested by the Scotsman, not like the others.

Not like Pendennis.

"You must be Proteus," Truro acknowledged the little narrow gauge engine, not letting go of Scotsman's unconscious body.

"That I am, hello," the little gold engine smiled. "Lady must have told you about me."

"She speaks of missing you dearly," Truro recounted. "She rarely gets to see you from what I've heard."

"Looking after the world in between and the souls that inhabit it doesn't allow me to interact with the physical world I'm afraid," Proteus explained, sadness in his tone. "I do miss Lady. She is a fine and beautiful engine."

Truro smiled at Proteus.

"That she is," Truro agreed. He looked around at the forest around them. "Did you bring us here?"

"I brought Scotsman and Mallard here with help from the delightful Gadwall," Proteus acknowledged the Raven on his buffer pad who puffed his feathers up proudly. "You, however, found your way here through your love of Scotsman."

Truro blushed a deep red and looked away from Proteus embarrassed.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, dear Truro," Proteus assured him. "The both of you were always meant to be together."

"That's sweet of you to say," Truro conceded, still not looking at the Narrow Gauge engine and down at Scotsman's unconscious face. His face softened and bore an expression of worry.

"He will be fine," Proteus assured the anxious City Class. "Injuries do not translate to the physical realm unless they affect the psyche. Scotsman is strong enough to not let such things wound him. At least, nowadays."

Truro nodded absent-mindedly at his words before looking back at Proteus.

"Did you bring Scotsman here during his restoration after the NRM sale?" He asked and Proteus gave him a comforting smile.

"That is correct," Proteus affirmed. "He was here a very long time. I was deeply concerned."

Truro returned his gaze to Scotsman, lying still in his arms.

"He… does not remember that time," Truro hesitantly revealed. "Those memories are deeply repressed and there is a good reason why."

Proteus gave a soft hum and looked away, his expression deep in thought. He appeared to grow worried.

"What is it?" Truro asked concerned.

"Being in this realm could make those memories resurface," Proteus warned, his voice laced with anxiety.

"Oh dear," Truro looked concerned now.

Gadwall gave a croak, drawing their attention.

"You're together," the raven pointed out and Truro gave the bird a warm smile.

"I suppose you are correct, we are together," he agreed and looked down at Scotsman, a smitten look in his eye. "Should Scotsman be tormented by such memories, we will weather it. Just as we did during the worst days."

Truro felt the forest around them sing and the atmosphere spark with a comforting and reassuring energy, as if the world itself approached their union.

Truro looked back up to thank Proteus, but the little narrow gauge engine was gone, leaving Gadwall perched on Scotsman's leg, ruffling his feathers and shaking the dirt from them.

Truro stared at where the strange, magical engine had once been before sitting back against his feet and pulling Scotsman's limp body closer to him, waiting for the famous engine to return to consciousness.

He did not have to wait long however as the man began to stir, groaning in pain and his limbs spasming and twitching before his eyes opened and he stared up at the forest canopy for a moment trying to get his bearings.

Truro felt his embarrassment rise and ashamed, realising that Scotsman, the handsome, built like a sculpture of a beautiful dashing prince, would see his short, overweight gold dust construct.

Still, he pushed those thoughts from his mind. Scotsman's well being was far more important right now.

"Scott?" Truro gently squeezed Scotsman's shoulder and Scotsman immediately looked up at him.

Truro couldn't read Scotsman's expression as he stared at him for a long while.

"Truro?" Scotsman asked, confused, and Truro nodded to him with a warm smile. Scotsman took in his appearance and he felt extremely self conscious.

Scotsman then gave him a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with delight as he nodded to him, approving of his appearance. Despite his grin and the delight, Truro could feel a heavy shadow over his partner.

"Scotsman what's wrong?" Truro asked, deeply concerned by Scotsman being strangely muted and the Pacific's smile faded, unshed tears welling up inside his eyes.

"North is gone," was all Scotsman could croak out and Truro felt all his self-doubt fall away. "I tried to find him, but he was gone! All I could find were memories!"

Doubting his worth and appearance wasn't important right now. Scotsman needed him, now more than ever.

Scotsman had broken down into tears and all Truro could do was embrace him to reassure him that he was there.

"What do you want?" The abrupt, cold and boorish voice of King Edward I ground out from within his berth as Mr Corbyn approached.

"I would drop that attitude immediately if I were you," Mr Corbyn quickly cut off the King Class's next insult. "Your behaviour is extremely appalling and it contravenes the Great Western Way."

"I am the Great Western Way!" King Edward I boomed arrogantly. "Release my wheel restraints!"

Mr Corbyn shook his head. He knew that it was a lost cause to try and reason with the King Class.

"I shall do no such thing," Corbyn snapped. "You can sit there until it is decided what we do with you!"

"If I had a Golden Soul-"

"But you don't have one and you could never have one with that ego and maliciousness in your soul!" Corbyn snapped at the Great Western. "At least I would hope that you would like an update on your twin brother, Merfyn."

"Rhion?" The King snorted. "What has that idiot done now?"

Corbyn gritted his teeth, fed up and annoyed with the King Class.

"Ms Parsons hijacked him and used him to try and get to Olivia Gresley," Corbyn explained. "They were intercepted, however, a scuffle occurred and your brother was infected with Black Smoke. He has the Cold Iron Sleep. We will do everything we can to save him."

King Edward I gave a dismissive 'humph' but said nothing more. Corbyn frowned at him.

"You have nothing to say about the condition of your brother? You are the one closest to him after all."

"My brother is useless," Merfyn coldly stated and anger flashed in the Great Western Warden's eyes.

"He is your brother!" Corbyn snapped at him.

"He is a coward! A blind engine that cannot see potential! He tried to stop me! He tried to save that disgrace of an engine! That, rolling corpse! She was never anything but a means to an end!" Merfyn ranted and raved.

Corbyn stared at the engine in disbelief at his callousness. To call young Tydfil such a thing. He was very aware that Lady of Legend was a controversial build among the engines. But he'd never heard King Edward I sound so venomous. Realising that he was going to get nowhere he shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. He decided to be blunt and to the point.

He did not want to stay in the engine's presence a moment more than he had to.

"Caerphilly Castle has summoned Clun Castle back to Didcot. She will deal with her on Lode Star's behalf," Corbyn informed the King Class. "She is going to receive the same punishment as yourself for negligence and endangering both human and engines life."

"It is of no concern to me," the engine arrogantly proclaimed. "I will get the Gold Soul whether it be in years, or the next few decades."

Mr Corbyn shook his head and clicked his tongue in despair.

"I see it was useless to even try and appeal to your better nature," the man's shoulders sagged in defeat, an expression of anger plaster over his face. "But I promise you this, King Edward I, you won't escape justice this time. You will pay dearly for what you have done."

King Edward I merely snorted dismissively at the Great Western Warden's words and looked away from him.

"Um, hello!"

Tydfil looked up from her buffers as a cheery voice distracted her from her swirling, anxious-filled thoughts.

She was annoyed and so said nothing to the little green saddle tank that had just rolled up to the front of her berth.

It looked like Trojan, only a brighter and more vibrant shade of green.

"You look like Trojan," Tydfil commented and the little engine frowned, then his expression seemed to recall who she spoke of and he lit up.

"Trojan is my brother!" The little Saddle Tank exclaimed brightly. "Although, I only just found that out recently. I don't know him that well."

Tydfil gave a soft snort in response.

"Well, he's a pain in the tender, are you a pain in the tender, little engine?"

There was a rudeness to her words, but her tone sounded flat and distant. Like she was only saying such things out of habit rather than meaning.

"Are you okay? You sound upset," The Saddle tank asked concerned.

"I've-" Tydfil began hesitantly. "Not had the best day. Or week actually."

"I'm sorry to hear that," The little engine sympathised. "What's your name? I'm Percy! And my passenger is Lyell!"

"Passenger?" Tydfil asked, confused before suddenly noticing the flatbed Percy was pulling. A very strange, very small engine tethered upon it. "Oh."

"Hey!" The little engine chirped shyly. "I'm from Australia."

Australia? Tydfil recalled that Pendennis kept mentioning that place a lot.

"I'm taking Lyell around to meet everyone and show her Sodor!" Percy explained.

"Where's Australia?" Tydfil asked, confused. She didn't know much of the world outside Didcot. "Is it close? Pendennis always working there."

"Australia is on the other side of the world!" Lyell peeped up, her tone one of bewilderment.

"Oh," Tydfil felt stupid now. "I haven't been to many places except here and Didcot."

Percy looked back at Lyell and the two looked sorry for her.

"Well, maybe you'd like to join us?" Percy offered. "I can show the both of you around the Island!"

Tydfil gazed at Percy confused. What did the little engine want from her?

"Why would you do that for me? I just met you," she asked quietly of the little saddle tank.

"Because it's a nice thing to do!" Percy beamed at her. "And besides, you look really bored and lonely in that shed. It's been days since you've come out hasn't it?

Tydfil hummed to herself in thought.

She had been endlessly going over thoughts in her head for days. At first the solitude from what had happened had been nice. But more and more she began to get agitated and bored.

She wanted to do something, she needed something to distract her from the emptiness that had been left by Maindy Hall.

She had tried so desperately to call her back, do anything to bring her back but there was nothing.

Having a little impromptu tour of the island would maybe ease those feelings, for a little while at least.

She looked back at the little engines and gave them a small smile. It faded slightly when her thoughts drifted to the Sudrian Controller.

"Sir Topham Hatt will not like it if I go places without permission," she mumbled dejectedly.

"That's okay, it was his idea to take you with us!" Percy exclaimed brightly, a cheeky grin on her face.

Tydfil frowned. She was unsure about the little Tank Engines words. There seemed to be untruths behind his eyes.

"I've gotten into more trouble than I should have this past few months," She ruefully pointed out. "I don't know if they'll tolerate more disobedience from me."

"I'll take the blame for anything that happens!" Percy assured her. "I promise."

Tydfil wasn't sure. She didn't want to get into any more trouble.

But at the same time, being alone with her thoughts, with the emptiness in her smokebox, was dragging her down and she needed an escape. She needed to get out, run her wheels, do something, anything.

She needed a break from the thoughts swimming around her smokebox.

Tydfil gave Percy and the little Australian engine a small smile and bouncy slightly on her wheels.

"Okay," she agreed and Percy's grin grew impossibly large.

"Alright let's go!" Percy squeaked happily and Tydfil felt her mood lifting at his contagious enthusiasm.

Maybe things would be alright for her. Maybe things will get better.

Deep in her boiler, she knew that she was right.

"Scotty's been gone a long while, everything okay with the big man?" 3801 asked Pendennis and the Great Western gave her an apologetic look. "Is Tornado going to be okay?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he noted before glancing at Bittern who frowned at him.

"Don't look at me, I've got no idea!" The A4 deflected.

"He's your best friend!"

"He doesn't tell me anything!"

"What kind of a best friend is that?"

"Stop yelling at me!"

"Alright geez, calm down both of ye!" Grey quickly butted in to stop them arguing even further. "I was just curious, that's all!"

"We don't know how long Scotsman is going to be or what will happen with Tornado, I'm sorry," Pendennis apologised to the foreign engine. "We know we're not who you came here to see."

"Yeah nah, don't worry about it," Grey smiled at the Castle Class and the A4 Pacific. "The Big Man is looking after Tornado, I get it. He always speaks so highly of her, I can tell he loves her dearly."

"He does, it's rather annoying," Bittern spoke dejectedly of Grey's claim. This caught Pendennis's attention.

"You're just jealous Scotsman spends more time with her than he does you," Pendennis pointed out and Bittern glared at him.

"It's none of your business, Castle!" He spat back, a little too aggressively. He suddenly noticed 3801 who was staring at them, an irritated look on her face. "You're embarrassing me in front of the foreign engine."

"Nah mate, you're doing a pretty good job of that yourself," Grey pointed out. "Foreign engine has a name you know."

Bittern blushed and looked away from Grey. She was a lot more forward than the engines in the UK.

"I apologise Lady Grey," Bittern profusely apologised. "Pendennis here tends to bring out my more abrasive side."

"Oh he does that to everyone, I know," Grey teased with a smirk and Pendennis humphed. "Stirred those Victorian S Class's up for years. They still talk about you."

Pendennis just smirked.

"Good to hear the lovely ladies still remember me," He smugly claimed. He then looked back at Grey. "I am sorry though Grey, Flying Scotsman would never abandon his duties if he can help it."

"I know that silly," Grey smiled, relaxing and throwing a wink to Bittern who turned red in embarrassment and avoided her gaze. "It's good to catch up with you and meet new people in the meantime. I didn't come here to just see Scotty ya know!"

Pendennis laughed and looked at Bittern.

"Well, Bittern here's still looking for a girlfriend, know any Aussie gals who might be interested?" Pendennis teased and Bittern backed away, trying to hide behind his friend.

"I dunno, how do you feel about emu's, Sir Bittern?" Grey questioned and in an instant Bittern's embarrassment faded and he frowned at her.

"What do bloody birds have to do with me wanting to get a girlfriend?!" He shouted so loudly that it startled a few rail workers nearby.

"Australia is full of birds Bittern, big birds, big birds that are taller than your drivers," Grey teased and Bittern looked flustered. "You want to come to Australia, you better steel yourself mate."

"Don't be stupid! You're lying to me! Like that, that fake drop bear thing that you tell all the tourists!" Bittern snapped back and now Grey looked offended.

"Fake? Fake!" Grey shrieked. "You listen here! I won't have such a dangerous threat trivialised by some fancy British bloke who's scared of sparrows!"

"I'm not scared of sparrows!" Bittern screeched defensively. He glared at Pendennis who grinned at him mischievously. "Good to know that people on the other side of the world now think I'm afraid of birds because of some gossiping twats!"

"Hey now it wasn't just me," Pendennis smirked. "Scotsman helped too."

"You fuckers!"

"BITTERN!" Stepney shouted furiously out of sight, spooking the A4, and eliciting a small yelp from him.

"Sorry…" Bittern apologised in a timid voice even though the little terrier wouldn't have heard him.

He glared at Pendennis and Grey who were stifling laughs at his expense.

Desperate to change the subject he frowned at Grey upon realising something.

"Didn't you come here with another engine?" He asked and Grey's face lit up brightly. "Sir Nigel said there were two Australian engines here."

"Oh, Goldie!" She excitedly cried out. "My bestest buddy in the entire world! They'll be so pleased to hear that I conquered an incline all by myself and rescued an engine too!"

"They sound great!" Pendennis cheered. "But, er, where are they?"

"They went to a museum to meet a diesel, uh, some DP1?" Grey considered and Bittern snorted in response.

"Not him," he grumbled and Pendennis weeshed steam at the LNER A4.

"Horatio ain't bad, he's just honest," Pendennis pointed out. "He'd fit right in, in Australia to be completely frank."

"I love it, my kinda guy!" Grey gushed enthusiastically. "No wonder Goldie was so excited to meet them."

"Well if Scotsman's not coming back anytime soon, maybe we should escort you to Shildon," Bittern offered and Grey made a cooing noise.

"That's so sweet of you bluebird, but don't you have other things ya should be doin'?" Grey question and the two engines just looked at each other.

"Not really," Pendennis chimed. "We came here to surprise Scotsman but he's not here so we might as well entertain his guest."

Grey laughed.

"Well alright then, have at it lads!" She laughed, accepting Pendennis and Bittern's offer. "Let's go visit some relics ay?"

The two UK engines looked at each other with wide grins. The Australian engine was a fun gal to say the least. Her visit would be most interesting.

Tornado awoke, tears streaming down her face and a feeling of emptiness inside her boiler. At first she thought it was pain from her firebox but it didn't feel the same. It felt different.

"Tornado?" A soft voice called to her.

It took her a moment to regain her bearings as she recognised she was back at Darlington. She was confused. It had been like she had been in a strange world where things didn't make sense.

"Tornado are you okay?" The voice called to her again and she looked up at Flying Scotsman's engine before her.

"Scotty?" She asked quietly then her expression grew to one of elation when she realised who the soul inhabiting his engine was. "Saint Mungo!"

Saint Mungo gave her a quick smile but then continued to look concerned.

"You were crying in your sleep, little Storm," Mungo told her, Tornado suddenly felt the dried tears on her cheeks.

"I was…?" Tornado was confused. They'd used Gold Dust to ease the pain of her damage, so she was feeling numb so that couldn't be it. "I don't know why I was crying… I just, It's strange… I don't know."

"Tornado?" Mungo asked, deeply concerned.

"It's like, it's like I've lost a part of me, or something close to me, it's hard to explain," Tornado mumbled to herself, her eyes staring down at her buffers. "I don't feel sad. I just feel like something is lost."

"That is very odd," Mungo mused quietly. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Tornado sniffed and shook her frames slightly before smiling at Mungo.

"Apart from my firebox, I am okay," Tornado assured him. Her eyes lowered to the ground and she looked dejected. "I really fucked up this time. They say it might take two years to repair me."

Mungo just stared at her sadly, his expression suggesting he was trying to come up with something to respond to her. Finally he gave a weak smile.

"Language young lady," he gave her and Tornado gave a small giggle.

"You're funny," she smiled. "I wish I could spend more time with you. I wish I had gotten to know you when you were alive."

She frowned and looked at the ground.

"Blue Peter must have loved you a lot to do anything to bring you back," Tornado proclaimed softly and Mungo gazed at her sadly.

"Blue Peter… he is very troubled," Mungo admitted to her. "It is not your fault Tornado but I believe that all his anguish, his desperation was projected onto you unfairly."

"He was abandoned in a shed for a long time, that's what King Edward II, or Rhion told me," Tornado recounted. "That he was left to rot, not even bothering to clean him after his last train."

"That's true, but he went into that shed with the full belief that I would be saved, he sat alone for years, the thought of seeing me his one glimmer of hope left," Mungo solemnly recounted. "When he found out I had been… murdered, he lost himself in despair."

Mungo looked dejected and hurt.

"It hurt, having to watch him fall apart and not be able to help him," Mungo continued sadly, heartbreak in his voice. "I thought that you would be able to pull him out of it but… he was so desperate and tunnel-visioned on bringing me back that-"

"He hurt me," Tornado mumbled to himself.

Tornado looked at her buffers.

"I don't want to force you to forgive Blue Peter, Tornado," Mungo told her. "But I ask that you at least try to understand him and hear him out. I know you may not believe it but he does care about you deep down. He has yet to truly admit it to himself but, I think he's finally seeing you for who you are."

Tornado sat silently for a long while, the sound of lathes running and engineers chattering filling the shed yet she barely heard them.

Finally, she gave Blue Peter a small smile.

"Okay," she spoke in a soft voice. "I'll try to listen to him. But if he upsets me I'm letting him know."

"That's all I ask Tornado," Mungo with a quiet chuckle. "And I would expect nothing less from a rambunctious young iron like yourself."

Tornado was about to snipe back but a loud yell stopped her.

"Who are you talking to Ms Nado!" Charlie shouted suddenly, the baby engine having roused from his nap. "Is the Scot-man back?!"

"Scotsman," Tornado corrected the engine. "No he's not back, his engine is just occupied by my brother, Saint Mungo."

Charlie giggled. "That's a funny name."

"I like to think I'm a funny engine!" Mungo puffed up on Scotsman's frames and the two younger engines giggled with him.

It's been a while.

The series is slowly winding down. Hopefully the next update won't be in a month.