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eosr-by-muxse · 4 months

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One or the Other

April 1925

Word Count: +9,110

An experimental rebuild of his class has arrived on the Island of Sodor, bought by the North Western Railway. He wonders if he'll fit in just fine with the other engines as problems begin to rise.

The sun was setting within the horizon, tucked behind the ocean. All of the engines at Barrow-in-Furness had returned to their sheds, except for two.

While both engines were classified as Lancashire and Yorkshire Class 28s, the only two of their class with Hughes Twin Plug superheaters and Belpaire fireboxes, they were quite different. One of them was an original Class 28, no modifications on them were found. The other was a rebuild, an experimental rebuild specifically. After a year of trial, he was deemed as a failed experiment.

Today was one of his last days before heading to the Island of Sodor, to the railway he was sold to.

"You're gonna love it when you get to Sodor!" chimed the smaller engine, as she noted her younger brother's mood. "It's lovely, I promise you."

The rebuilt engine let out a high-pitched wheesh. He hummed. "But you said that the engines there were straight-up sinister," he remarked.

His sister chuckled. "I meant the other engines on trial. Though two of the five were quite mean, I would ignore them if I were you, little brother."

"I'm much bigger than you!" he huffed. "...but, what about the others?"

"Oh, they're quite pleasant," she noted. "Though one of them might not be there anymore." She looked down. "There was an engine who sat in one of the sheds all the time. He barely went out."

"So he could've been…" James gulped a heavy cloud of steam, which slowly backed up his pipes. "Scrapped?" He wheezed out.

"Mhm," hummed his sister. "Don't let it intimidate you. It's just how it goes."

He stayed quiet.

His sister sighed. "I'm sure you'll do great, and you'll fit in quite well."

"...And what about you?" he asked as he looked at his sister.

His sister looked down. "Oh, I'll still be here." She whistled before chuffing away. "Who knows. We might see each other here every now and then."

"Here? As in Barrow-in-Furness?"

"Mhm," she stopped. "There are a few engines who come over from Sodor to here. You might be one of them soon." With that, she left.

The younger engine smiled warmly as the engine, the only one he could truly consider to be family, left. He looked in the distance and could barely see it but it was there.

The Vicarstown Drawbridge was raised up as if reaching for the limitless sky. Once it was let down in the morning, he would leave, and when he crossed over, he would possibly never come back.

…

It was shortly after lunch as four engines were being fired up after a good hour break and a quick announcement from Sir Bertram Topham Hatt II, the director of the North Western Railway.

A grand blue tender engine named Gordon huffed. "Edward, you will give this railway a bad name, just by rolling up there."

Henry, a grand green tender engine right next to him, asked, "They could be reckless. It's better if one of us goes instead."

An emerald-green tender engine, Emily, gave them a quick glare before shifting her attention to Edward. "What do you think they'll be doing when they arrive?" she asked, in hopes of deviating from the negativity.

Edward, a blue medium-sized tender engine, looked at the two largest tender engines and smiled. He softly chuckled. "Ye're forgettin wha mentorit the both of ye," he said, then glanced at the emerald-green tender engine. "Emily, I'm sure it'll be fine. I've been seein more goods trains than usual sae thon's most likely what they'll be doin."

Emily hummed. "That's true."

Gordon huffed and Henry grunted.

"Noo, noo," said Edward. "Please be nice tae the newcomer. It would be rude of us not to."

Emily whistled but the other two said nothing.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Let's get tae work, now. I'll see ye around!" he exclaimed as he chuffed away, continuing to work in Tidmouth Yards.

…

Within a few days, Sir Topham Hatt II had a workman from Tidmouth pass a message to Edward's crew, Charlie Sands and Sidney Heaver.

"The new engine has arrived," he said. "He's at Crovan's Gate Works."

Without any haste, Edward had his tender refilled of coal and water before getting onto the Main Line and heading towards Crovan's Gate. He hummed along the way as he huffed and chuffed down the line.

…

The rebuilt engine nervously rolled to a stop right next to what appeared to be a factory or repair shop.

"Is this it?" he asked his driver hastily as he observed the large brick building. The massive brick building had tall windows that were quite dirty, making it difficult for the engine to look through. He was curious as to what was going on inside, huffing in frustration.

"This is the place," replied his driver, Fred Quill, as his fireman, George Turner, patted at the curious engine. Just a few minutes ago, the engine had been fuming and crying after a not-so-pleasant farewell. It's as if the events that had taken place the day before had never happened.

Just then, Sir Topham Hatt II approached him, followed by two men dressed in blue coats and blue slacks. He dressed appropriately as any other railway owner would, in a full tuxedo with a yellow vest.

The newcomer was a medium-sized tender engine of two leading wheels and six 5'6" driving wheels. His livery was matte black, except for his buffer beams. On his cab was his number, 12556, painted in yellow, the same yellow used for the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway logo on his tender. Unlike other engines, he had a three-chime brass whistle sitting on top of his domed boiler. Across his face, at eye level, was a black stripe, with the number 12556 in white.

The black medium-sized tender engine looked at the man with his heterochromatic eyes of rich brown and lush green.

"Hello there! You must be James!" Sir Topham Hatt II exclaimed with excitement.

The engine jolted, and quickly looked away from the building. His heterochromatic eyes landed sight on the stout gentleman. He was confused. "Who?"

The Fat Director nodded at him. "You, James," he replied.

"P-pardon?" he asked, confused and nervous. He avoided eye contact. "I-I think you have the wrong engine, sir. I don't have a name. My number is twelve-thousand-five hundred fifty-six or twelve-five fifty-six, sir."

"Then you are James," the director said. "I gave you that name. Do you like it?"

James was shocked. Flabbergasted, he looked down shyly. Eventually, he replied. "I do, sir. Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome. Where are my manners? Welcome to the North Western Railway. I am Sir Bertram Topham Hatt the Second, the director of this railway. I expect you to become of good use," said Sir Topham Hatt II.

"Of course, sir!"

"Marvelous!" Sir Topham Hatt II said before looking around. Suddenly, he exclaimed, "There you are!"

James looked in the direction that the director was looking in.

Up ahead, a cerulean blue tender engine rolled in and came to a stop on the track to his left. The other engine was medium-sized, like he was, though a bit smaller, and had four leading wheels and four driving wheels.

Sir Topham Hatt II glanced at the blue medium-sized tender engine, smiling at the warm presence the locomotive brought with him.

Edward smiled at the new engine.

The director looked at James. "You will be working with one of the railway's most hardworking engines." He looked back at Edward with pride before gesturing from him to James.

The blue engine gave a quick hum before rolling closer to James. "Hello thare. Ma name is Edward," he piped cheerfully, his Scottish accent being quite thick. "What's yers?"

"James," the black engine replied quickly. He was still nervous.

Edward smiled. With a quick fweep, fweep!, he exclaimed, "Welcome tae Sodor, James!"

"Edward will be your mentor, James," said the Fat Director, gesturing James to Edward. "You will be working with him at the shunting yards in Tidmouth. Edward will guide you there." He turned to the blue medium-sized tender engine. "Edward, please make sure James is in line with the others. Keep an eye on him."

"Aye, sir!" replied Edward.

James followed. "Yes, sir!"

"Alright then. On you go! I will be checking on your progress by the end of this week, James."

Once Edward was turned around, the engines left Crovan's Gate and headed for Tidmouth Yards.

…

"Are you Scottish?" James asked meekly. They hadn't gone far away from Crovan's Gate when the silence became loud and uncomfortable.

Edward hummed.

James perked up. "If n-not, I'm sorry!" he quickly exclaimed. "It's just your-" His stuttering began to crack into his voice.

"Accent?" Edward said, interrupting the nervous engine. He chuckled. "I wis built in Scotland."

"And what railway do you come from?"

"I canae remember," Edward replied.

"Oh."

It stayed silent again.

"Ur ye an LMS original engine?" Edward asked.

"No. I'm a Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway engine."

Edward slowed down. "Lancashire and Yorkshire?"

"Yes?" James eyed the engine suspiciously.

"We had two engines come over from thon railway back in nineteen-twenty-ane," Edward replied. He hummed. "I was shed mates wit ane but the other ane wis allocatit at yon old Vicarstown Sheds wit the other ladies." He shook his frame. "One wis an L&YR Class Nine and the other wis an L&YR Class Twenty-Eight."

"I know that Class Twenty-Eight engine!" James exclaimed.

His loud voice startled Edward. "Eh?"

"That was my sister, fifty-five!"

Edward stared at James.

"W-What?" James became nervous all over again.

"Och, nawthin, nawthin!" Edward quickly reassured him. "Ye jist donnae look like yer sister…" He looked away, wincing at his own words.

James huffed. "I'm an experimental engine that was once a Class 28," he muttered bitterly.

"Och, och!" Edward braked harshly. "I'm sae sorry! I should'nae-"

James halted and backed down, lining up with Edward. "It's fine," huffed James. "How much longer to Tidmouth?"

"A while," replied Edward.

"Where is Tidmouth?"

"Oan the other side o the island!"

"What?" James exclaimed.

….

Tidmouth was very far away.

By the time the two engines pulled into Tidmouth Yard, which sat next to Tidmouth Station, dwindling towards the west, James was low on water and coal. Said engine could barely see it but from a distance, he saw what appeared to be the bay of the island. Not too far away and closer to him was a turntable.

"Here we are! Welcome tae Tidmouth," Edward exclaimed as he rolled into the shunting yard. James followed suit. "This is where we'll be workin for now," said the blue medium-sized tender engine.

James looked around the small yard. "And where are the goods trains?" he asked, confused.

"Och," Edward's lips strained, forming a thin line. "Well… aboot thon." He cleared his pipes. "The Fat Director wants ye tae do shuntin."

"Shunting?" The black medium-sized engine tensed. "But I'm a goods engine," said James.

"It's what he directed."

"But why? Do you not have any shunters?"

"We do."

"But where are they?"

"You're talking with the only one right now."

James' heterochromatic eyes slowly glanced over at Edward, meeting the other engine's brass eyes. The worry within boiled. "You're a shunter?"

The baritone of his voice threw Edward off, startling him. "Aye," he replied, tense.

"But you're a tender engine!"

"I ken."

"Tender engines-"

"Ur'nae meant tae shunt," interrupted the blue medium-sized tender engine. "But it's the Fat Director's orders. Nawthin I can dae aboot it."

"And you're the only one."

"Ye're jist goin tae keep askin questions, ur'nae ye?"

James backed away.

Edward took notice, alarmed. "It's no a bad thing!" He glanced at the yard, concerned. "But we have work tae dae."

"And it's shunting?"

"Aye! Noo, let's git tae it!"

…

Throughout the afternoon, both engines had some small chats. Edward spoke what little he could remember of the early days of the railway, adding his experiences with the other engines.

Despite the good things he was hearing, James was still worried.

"Do you think they'll like me?" James asked.

Edward hummed as he shunted some Troublesome Trucks to the end of a track. "They will," he replied rather bluntly.

"Oh." James wasn't convinced.

The blue medium-sized tender engine sighed with a warm smile. "Hey, listen. If they donnae like ye right away, give thaim time," he said as he backed away from the trucks.

Suddenly, a low baritone-pitched whistle was heard from a distance. The two had heard it multiple times throughout the day but this time, it got closer to them.

"Is that one of them?" James asked.

"Aye!" Edward replied. He backed up next to James in time to see a grand blue tender engine thunder into the shunting yard with empty coaches. "Come along, come along!" he piped to James, who followed suit.

The blue grand tender engine halted and hummed, observing the two engines approaching him. He focused on the new one.

"Are you the new engine?" The great blue engine asked.

"Yes, uh-" he swallowed a cloud of steam. "I'm James," James replied with a strained smile. He felt small, smaller than Edward.

Edward inched forward. "Why don' ye introduce yerself?" he suggested to the grand blue tender engine.

"Well then, hello. I'm Gordon, and I pull the Wild Nor' Wester," Gordon said bluntly.

"O' the afternoon!" added Edward.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gordon," James responded, feeling tense.

"It was a pleasure as well." Once the grand blue tender engine was uncoupled from the coaches, he left.

"I'll get thaim, ye keep workin oan the regular freight cars," Edward said as he moved to the track where the coaches were.

James looked at the coaches. "Are those the Wild Nor' Wester coaches?"

"They are," Edward responded as he gently shunted them in place. "It's our passenger express service."

"Does someone else pull it? You said something about the afternoon."

"Aye. She's in charge o the Mornin runs."

James hummed curiously. "Do you get to pull it?"

"Mm, naw. No-"

Another whistle was heard. Though this time, it was a higher pitch than Gordon's. "Hello, Edward!" A voice hollered out.

"Och, thon's Henry!" Edward exclaimed. He looked at James. "This way, this way!" He chuffed backward. James followed.

"You must be the new engine. My name's Henry, what's yours?" a grand green tender engine asked as he rolled to a stop in the yard.

"I'm James," the black medium-sized tender engine replied. He liked Henry already. He's nice, he thought.

"It's nice to meet you. I need to get going. I'll see you around," said Henry before he whistled and left the yard.

James hummed. He asked Edward, "Is he the other engine who pulls the Express?"

"Naw, he pulls the regular passenger coaches an goods trains. Gordon pulls goods trains as well, thouch not often," Edward replied.

"Then who's the other engine?"

"Thon would be-"

"Edward!" An English-accented voice hollered.

"Emily, hello thare!" replied Edward.

"Did Gordon do the final Express run of the morning?" Emily quickly asked. She became excited when she noticed the unfamiliar engine next to Edward.

"He did. He juist left for his break."

"Good, good," Emily said in relief. "Now, who is this?" The emerald green tender engine inched closer to the two medium-sized tender engines.

"Gae on," Edward whispered to James. He backed up. "Introduce yerself."

"Hello, I'm James," said James. "It's Emily, right?"

"It is. Welcome to the railway, lad!" Emily replied. "Have you met the coffee pot engine, yet?"

"Coffee pot engine? The ones with the vertical boilers?" James asked, surprised and curious.

"Thae are the anes," Edward replied. "Thare's only ane left on the railway. He runs the Ffarquhar Branch Line, ane o the only operatin branch lines left. Still frequentit as it wis back then."

James hummed. "Do you guys work on the branch line?"

"Nope," replied Emily. "We work on the Main Line, which runs from here to Barrow-in-Furness."

"Oh. Will I be working on the Main Line?"

"Of course. In fact, you are right now." Emily paused when she noticed the lettering on James’ cab. "Welcome from the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway! Did you come from a railway before then?”

"Yes. The Lancashire and Yorkshire," replied James.

"Lancashire and Yorkshire, huh? Think we had two engines on trial from there, not too long ago…" Emily looked at Edward. "Have the other two met him?"

"They have. Shortly before ye came, thon is," replied Edward.

"Good. I must get going. Sir Topham Hatt wants me to pull the passenger train while Henry's gone. I'll see you two later!"

"Alricht, Emily," said Edward as Emily pulled away from the shunting yards. He looked at James. "Wid ye like tae shunt the passenger coaches?"

"Uh, sure," replied the black medium-sized tender engine worriedly. "Which ones are they?"

"The red coaches on the second tae last track."

James spotted the red coaches and went to work.

When he shunted the red passenger coaches into the station, he heard a little girl.

"Mummy, look! A new engine!" she exclaimed, pointing at James.

Her mother hummed. "It's like all the other engines," she commented with a smile.

James began to smile.

Finally, someone else recognizes that I am just like the others. Just as great. Just as useful-

"I don't see what's so different about it from the rest," the mother said, her smile disappearing. "Other than the eyes," she added, dropping her voice level. She looked down at her daughter and motioned at the passenger coaches. "Come on. Let's get on the train, dear."

The little girl simply followed her mother as James' heterochromatic eyes followed the pair. His eyebrows furrowed at the comment.

Despite the fire still going in his firebox and his water supply full, his boiler felt empty and cold.

So much for wanting to be like everyone else… he thought as he quietly puffed away.

…

It was evening when James and Edward finished with work. The two engines headed to Knapford Sheds, which were not too far. The other engines were already waiting for them, including the coffee pot engine.

On the way back, the comment from the mother had nagged at James, who tried to push it away.

"Glynn, guid evenin!" greeted Edward as he backed into the berth, along with James next to him in the no-longer empty spot.

"Good evening to you too, Edward," replied Glynn when he noticed the unfamiliar engine right next to him. "Hello there. You must be the new one around here, chap," he said.

James was no longer thinking about what happened earlier. He was staring at the coffee pot engine in awe. He'd heard about them but had never seen one before.

Glynn was tiny in length but was nearly the same height as Edward. His boiler pointed upwards and his livery was red, covered in a few scratches and dents.

"Oh, hello!" James greeted back, with a sudden rush of eagerness and curiosity. "I am. I'm James!"

Glynn chuckled at the reaction of the black medium-sized tender engine. He was used to it. His design was one-of-a-kind. "Hello, James. Welcome to the North Western Railway."

"Thank you," replied the black medium-sized tender engine.

"You're very welcome. I'm hearing you're around in the shunting yards for now."

"I am… Glynn, was it?"

"It is, lad. With Edward guiding you, you'll be fine on this railway."

"I hope so…"

"Is something on your-?"

"Can you please keep it down?" muttered Gordon from the other end of the shed. Henry, who was right next to him, was fast asleep. "Some of us are trying to get some rest. It's getting late."

Edward yawned. He had stayed quiet for the majority of the time, occasionally speaking to Emily, who tried to stay awake but had fallen asleep rather quickly. "He has a point," said Edward, with another yawn. "Guid night…"

Glynn looked at James. "We can chat tomorrow. Good night, James. Have a good rest."

"Good night, Glynn," replied James.

Soon, all the engines were fast asleep, with James looking forward to the following week.

…

A loud shrill rang throughout the sheds that morning.

The engines panicked, waking up with a startle. Henry suddenly moved backward, his fire having barely started. He bashed into the buffers at the end of the track.

"Goodness me, who was that?" he asked with sudden fear.

Someone nervously chuckled. All of the engines looked at James, who was about to leave.

"T-that was me…" replied James. "Was it that loud?"

"Well-" began Edward.

"Yes, it was," Gordon huffed. "With that kind of whistle, you'd certainly scare off the passengers."

"Gordon!"

The grand blue tender engine ignored Edward as he whistled and chuffed away.

"Dinnae-"

"Don't mind him, I know," James said, interrupting Edward. He brought his voice down to a whisper. "My sister told me not to."

"Did you say something?" Emily asked.

"N-no, I didn't say anything," James replied. "I'm on my way to the yards."

"Is yer whistle a three-chime whistle, by any chance?" asked Edward.

"Oh, it is," replied James. "It was given to me during my rebuild, 'as a gift' they said. I'm sorry for scaring you all like that."

"Donnae worry aboot it, James. Thouch it wid've been nice tae ken beforehand…" Edward reassured with a chuckle.

"Right, right." James chuckled nervously as he headed out of the sheds.

…

The next few days went by with ease, or they did so initially.

James had been making great progress. However, by halfway through the week, it was becoming quite sloppy, to say the least.

"Dinnae let them get the best of ye, James. They want engines up tae high doh," said Edward, reminding the black medium-sized tender engine.

James groaned. "'Up the high dough?""

"Flustered, upset… rile up an engine!"

He huffed. "That's troublesome."

The Troublesome Trucks continued to laugh. "No good engine, no good engine!" they chanted with boisterous laughter.

Edward shot a glare at the trucks. "Thon's why they're callit Troublesome Trucks," he said, looking back at James. "Ye'll neit tae learn hou tae deal with thaim properly. Sir Topham Hatt is hopin tae have ye pull yer first goods train by the end of the week."

"Why not now? I was a goods engine on my old railway," James asked as he finally managed to shunt the trucks in place.

"Most of our goods trains have Troublesome Trucks, thon's why not noo," replied Edward. "Sir Topham Hatt doesnae want tae risk ye gettin intae an accident for bein inexperiencit."

"Oh, right," replied James.

Edward hummed. "Och! Before I forget, Glynn is stoppin by for his break. He wantit ye tae shunt his coaches for him."

"Really, why?"

"I dinnae ken," said Edward. "He simply askit me tae tell ye."

"Alright…" said James. "Edward, I'm like the other engines, right?"

"Well, naw. We're all different from ane another-"

"I meant as in- Nevermind," huffed James, returning to shunting the Troublesome Trucks and leaving a confused Edward behind.

"Whit dae ye mean by 'as in?'" asked Edward as he followed the black medium-sized tender engine. "James?"

"It sounds silly but am I an engine? Like a real engine?"

"Of course, ye are," he replied, confused.

"Even if I'm a failed experiment?"

Edward was flabbergasted. "A failed-? Aye, e'en sae, James."

"That's good to know."

"Why are ye askin this? Is awthing alricht?"

James hummed. "...Do passengers often say really rude things?"

Edward's eyes widened. He sighed. "It's best tae ignore thaim." He began to chuff away, leaving the black medium-sized tender engine to ponder. "Nawthin we can dae aboot it."

…

Around the early afternoon, Glynn arrived at Tidmouth Station. After dropping off his passengers, he headed towards the shunting yard. James was waiting for him, just having arranged a goods train for Henry to take.

"Hello, Glynn," he said as Glynn approached him.

"Hello, James," said Glynn. "I want you to meet my coaches."

"Hello there!" piped up the first coach. "I'm Annie, and she's Clarabel," Annie said, smiling as she glanced back at Clarabel, the passenger brake coach.

"It's nice to meet you, James!" exclaimed Clarabel, as she and Annie were uncoupled from Glynn.

"Hello, Annie. Hello, Clarabel," greeted James to the auburn passenger coaches as he was coupled up to them from the back.

Glynn chuffed away. "I'll be near the water tank. Thank you, James!"

"You're welcome, Glynn!" James replied as he reversed. He thought about where to put the auburn coaches for the time being.

"We usually go in that shed over there," said Clarabel, noticing the pondering engine. She glanced to the left. "Where the red passenger coaches are."

James hummed as he reversed further and switched tracks to reach what looked like a carriage shed. It was at the edge of the shunting yard. As gently as he could, James shunted them in place.

"James, have you ever pulled coaches before?" Annie asked suddenly as a workman uncoupled her from James.

James sighed. "No, I haven't," he replied as he backed away.

"Would you like to one day?" asked Annie.

The black medium-sized tender engine stopped in his tracks. "Sorry?"

"Would you like to pull coaches one day?"

James was hesitant. "I would, but I'm a goods engine. I'm not meant to be pulling passenger coaches."

"Well-"

"You better get going, James. Glynn does want to spend some time with you," said Clarabel hastily, interrupting Annie.

"Oh right! See you in a bit!" exclaimed James as he chuffed away from the shed. He left to join Glynn.

"Goodbye, James!" said Clarabel frantically. Her franticness went unnoticed by James.

But not by Annie. "Clarabel, what was that for?" asked Annie.

The equivalent of Clarabel's eyebrow bone furrowed. "We can't be telling a newcomer such things, Annie. Besides, we don't know for sure. It's… just a possibility."

…

"...Henry refused to come out of the tunnel. An engine on trial almost got him out but he was being stubborn."

"Would this engine happen to be an L&YR Class 28?"

"Pretty sure it was. Do you know this engine?"

"She's my sister. Number two-forty-three?"

Glynn hummed. "Oh, I remember her. I didn't see her much, though."

"Then how did you know about that?"

"The other three told me about it. They'd seen how hard she tried, but Henry's strong. He wouldn't budge."

"Not one bit?" asked James, amused.

Glynn chuckled lightly. "Not one bit. So the board, including the old Fat Director, ordered for the tunnel to be walled up. He was let out eventually, but that was only because Gordon burst his safety valve and none of the other engines were available to cover for him."

"Wow," said James with a stale tone, though amused. "Even if Gordon hadn't burst his safety valve, Henry would have still been let out, right?"

Glynn stayed silent.

"Right?" Fear began to creep into his boiler.

"No," Glynn replied bluntly. "I don't think so. The others do, but I don't."

"O-oh…"

"It's been a few years since that happened."

"So it won't happen again?"

"No, I doubt it would," said Glynn, teeth clenched.

"Alright. So what happened after?"

"Everything went back to how it was after Gordon was fixed up, just like it is now."

"Nothing changed?"

"Nothing changed," Glynn replied. He heard footsteps. The red coffee pot engine looked in the direction of the sound and saw a group of men walking toward them. "That's my crew. My break's over. Don't worry about Annie and Clarabel, I'll get them myself."

"Oh, alright then. I should get back to work. Goodbye, Glynn!"

"Goodbye, James!" said Glynn as the black medium-sized tender engine left to return to his work in the yard.

…

"James? James!"

"Hm? Who's there?" asked the black medium-sized tender engine as he backed away from shunting a few cars into the siding. He saw the engine, who had been calling out for him. "Oh, hi, Gordon," said James.

"For how much longer are you going to work in the yard?" Gordon bluntly asked with no greeting.

"By the end of the week, I think," replied James, thrown off by the question. "Why?"

"Just curious," he replied. Gordon brought his voice down to a whisper. "You could be a replacement."

James froze. "R-Replacement? Who?"

"Edward."

"E-Edward?" James looked around frantically to find the engine. He managed to spot him on the other side of the yard. "What's wrong with him?” he whispered. “He seems to be just fine."

"Yes, but that's because he stays in the yard. Have you not noticed how he never leaves the yard?"

The question made James think. "He left once for a goods train to… somewhere, but I've only been here for a few days-"

"Edward's old," Gordon said bluntly. "He's been a shy steamer from the day he was built."

"I've never seen him have that issue…" replied James, looking down as he thought back to the past week.

“He never wheeshes because he just cannot steam enough to do that.”

"But Edward's a reliable engine. Sir Topham Hatt said so himself," replied James. "Besides, I was brought here to pull goods trains. I just… need to be ready."

"Sure," Gordon huffed as he rolled out of the yards, leaving a worried James behind, who recalled something his sister had said.

…

"Edward, when were you built?" James asked the blue medium-sized tender engine the following morning.

Edward hummed. "I canae remember… but I might be a few decades old," he replied. Edward noticed James' tense stance. "Is somethin botherin ye, James?"

"No, no. No… Actually, yes." He looked straight into Edward's eyes. "Were you the engine who stayed in the shed during the loans? The one who never left?

Edward was startled, but he still answered. "Aye," he replied, looking down. "But I did leave a few times."

"How many?"

"Mmm, five times?"

"A year?"

"The entire time."

James frowned. "And since when have you been here in the yards?"

"Since nineteen-twenty-three, when the Amalgamation happened. But I dinnae mind it. As lon’ as I'm no’ left in the shed all the time, I'm quite pleasit wit it," replied Edward with a pleasing smile.

However, Edward's words shook through James' boiler, and the smile of the blue medium-sized tender engine bothered James.

James watched as Edward went on with his work. "And what about the Troublesome Trucks?" he asked. He had become more annoyed with them since he arrived, growing tired of their mockery.

"Whit aboot thaim?"

"How can you handle this job? Dealing with those Troublesome Trucks?"

"Well, ane, I enjoy it. An’ two, it takes time."

"You enjoy it?"

"Aye, an’ thare's nawthin-"

"Yes, there is!" James yelled.

Edward was startled but his eyebrows furrowed.

"How do you not want to lose it with those trucks?" He huffed. "I'm ready to shunt one off the rails."

Edward hummed. "I am patient wit’ thaim."

"Don't you wish you could do something else?"

"Well, it wis either this or tae be lockit up in the sheds," replied Edward sternly. "An’ I wid rather no’ be sittin in the sheds, deterioratin’ over time." The blue medium-sized tender engine moved away, continuing his work.

James had an idea.

"How about we travel along the mainline?"

Edward stopped. "Pardon?"

"Travel along the mainline. You said you've been here for quite a while. That means you barely go on the Main Line, right?"

"Well, aye. But like I said, I like workin’ in the yard. It's not much but it's nice," replied Edward, getting a bit worried.

"Then let's go on the Main Line!" James exclaimed. "We can chuff around for a bit!"

"Ye're off yer smokebox!" Edward exclaimed. "We're supposit tae stay in the yard. Orders frae the Fat Director!" Despite his own insistence, the offer to leave was tempting.

"He won't find out," said James. "Lighten up a bit!"

"Aye, he will," Edward said sternly.

"It'll only be for a bit!"

"Doesnae matter!"

"Please! The others have just left. No one else should be coming back, right?"

"No’ for a while," replied Edward. He looked up. "Emily jist left wit the Express, Gordon is gaun’ae tae Vicarstown tae deliver a guids train, and Henry is pullin the regular passenger train before headin’ tae the docks wit a guids train from Barrow-in-Furness."

"Then we aren't disturbing anyone."

"An’ the yard?"

"It'll be fine! It'll just be for a bit! Please!"

Edward frowned but then sighed. "Fine. It daes sound nice, but I dinnae like the idea o’ leavin' wit'out Sir Topham Hatt knowin'…"

"Don't worry! We'll be back shortly!"

…

And back shortly, they were. They had spent less than an hour traveling from Tidmouth to Wellsworth, before turning back.

As they approached Knapford Junction, Edward struggled to see the signals. He squinted, solely focused on the signals that he didn't notice Gordon coming from his left.

Gordon whistled loudly, startling Edward. "Edward! Watch out!" He exclaimed.

"Och!" Edward exclaimed as he pushed on his brakes. He braked in time, missing Gordon. "Gordon! I'm so-!"

"Edward and James!"

The three engines at the junction gasped as they saw the small chubby director storm over to them.

"Gordon, get back to work. Now," he said sternly.

"Of course, sir!" Gordon quickly replied as he chuffed away to Tidmouth.

"You two. The station, now!"

"Y-yes, sir!" exclaimed James.

"Aye, sir!" exclaimed Edward.

The two quickly chuffed towards Knapford Station, leaving the director behind to follow them.

Once the engines settled in the station, Sir Topham Hatt II spoke loudly and sternly at them.

"Edward and James, where have the two of you been?" he asked, raising his voice.

James panicked. "We were on the Main Line, but we didn't go far before coming back, sir!"

"Not far? You're not supposed to leave the shunting yards, the both of you know that!" the short and chubby director exclaimed with fury. He looked at Edward. "Especially you."

"I'm really sorry, sir. James really wantit tae gae, and I agreit. I really wantit tae wander around. Jist for a bit," Edward quickly exclaimed.

Sir Topham Hatt II sighed. "I can't say I'm not upset or disappointed, especially with you, Edward. From now, you're both staying in the yards. You are not to leave unless I say so, understand?"

"Aye, sir."

"Yes, sir," the two medium-sized tender engines replied in solemn unity.

"I hope you do. I'll come back next week instead. Clearly, you both need to learn and behave." Sir Topham Hatt II said sternly before walking away. He shook his head in disappointment, leaving the two engines to think about what they'd done.

…

The following day, James was listening to another of Glynn's stories. This time, it was about the old days of an old railway: The Tidmouth, Knapford, and Elsbridge Light Railway.

"... they were such great engines. Sadly, the first one didn't make it past the beginning of the century and the other was scrapped in nineteen-twenty. The other engines were scrapped by then, so it was just Edward and me. Thankfully, Emily, Henry, and Gordon have come along, and now you have as well." Glynn sighed. "You've been quite helpful since you got here."

"Mm. I'm glad I am," replied James.

His flat tone worried the red coffee pot engine. "You know, you've been quiet for most of the morning and I've noticed you've been ignoring Edward. Is something going on, chap?" Glynn asked.

James looked down, staying quiet.

"It's about yesterday, isn't it?"

The black medium-sized tender engine sighed. He continued to look down at his black running board. "Do you think Edward's mad at me?"

Glynn hummed. "He isn't one to stay mad for long. Talk to him."

"Alright…" James looked at Glynn. "Who were the other engines? Were they from other railways?"

"Well…" Glynn hummed. "There was a tender engine, along with two tank engines from the old Wellsworth and Suddery Railway, and two box-tank engines from the Sodor and Mainland Railway." He squinted, looking down in thought. "Actually, one of the box tanks might still be around here somewhere."

That piqued James' interest. "Really?"

"Maybe. I just don't know where. The tender engine was responsible for leaving them on a siding… His name was-"

"Glynn! Break's over!"

Both engines looked in the direction of the sound. It was Glynn's driver, Gilbert Perkins.

"Alright, Mr. Perkins!" Glynn exclaimed. As Gilbert climbed into Glynn's cab, along with his driver, Glynn looked back at James. "Talk to Edward about it. It's the only way to know." He whistled a farewell and left to pick up Annie and Clarabel for his afternoon run.

James stayed behind in the empty and lonely area of the Tidmouth Yards.

He has a point.

…

It was easier said than done, James thought to himself.

For the past few days, he struggled to talk to Edward but managed to speak up to him, days after his conversation with Glynn.

"Edward…?"

The blue medium-sized tender engine looked back at James. "Hm?"

"Listen, I'm… I'm sorry."

Edward lifted an eyebrow. "For?"

"For making you leave the shunting yard. It got you in trouble and-"

"I'll stop ye richt thare," Edward interrupted, as he backed down to be right next to James. "Ye dinnae make me leave the shuntin yard. I chose to leave wit ye," he explained with emphasis.

"But still-"

"We're both tae blame for whit almost happenit," said Edward. "I actit upon my temptation an ye acted upon yer naivety."

"Naive?" said James offensively. "What do you mean 'naive?'"

"As in, ye dinnae know any better," Edward bluntly replied. "Thon's all."

James frowned.

"Och, thon reminds me. Sir Topham Hatt is comin’ tae see ye in a bit about yer first goods train later today," said Edward.

"What, why? Is there something else I need to know?"

"I think so," replied Edward. His eyes drifted to something elsewhere. He caught a glimpse of the man in question. "He's comin' this way. I'll continue work in the yard," he muttered as he quickly chuffed away.

Sir Topham Hatt II soon reached James. "There you are, James. Now, I came to remind you about the goods train you're taking today. Do you remember where and where?"

"From Brendam Docks to Vicarstown, sir?" replied James.

"Correct. Now, I need you to be careful. From what I've heard, you are capable of handling the Troublesome Trucks but please be cautious, alright?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Excellent! Now, please go to the Crovan's Gate Works," he said, smiling. "Welcome to the North Western Railway, James, our number six engine. I look forward to hearing good reports on your first run."

James gasped with joy. "On it! I won't let you down, sir!" he replied with determination and happiness as he left, smiling, to continue his work.

…

It was the late afternoon of that day when James arrived at Brendam Docks. He rolled in with the number 6 painted on his tender.

He was quite surprised to see how empty the docks were.

There was only one crane at the docks, doing all the unloading. James thought he saw a weird shape, a face of some sort on the crane. But it was too dark to be sure with the sun setting.

James wanted to say "hello" but decided not to. For all he knew, the crane probably had no face. I would make a fool of myself, he thought.

The black medium-sized tender engine was switched over to be able to back up into the goods train. A workman in the docks approached him, coupling James up to the goods train. He gave a quick thumbs up to Fred, James' driver.

"Alright, we're ready to go!" Fred hollered out for James to hear.

James' three-chime whistle rang throughout the docks, startling a few of the workers, before chuffing away.

…

James arrived at the Vicarstown Yards without any problems. The Vicarstown Station was there, which only consisted of platforms, and the abandoned Vicarstown Sheds were nearby. Gordon was there with Wild Nor' Wester for the afternoon.

Fred and George climbed out of his cab, walking towards the smokebox of the black medium-sized tender engine.

"We had a very good first run, didn't we, James?" asked Fred with pride.

"Everything went fine. There's nothing wrong," James replied, a bit thrown off. It still caught him off guard when someone asked for his opinion. "Yeah, it went well."

His crew chuckled, hiding their solemn feelings for the engine.

Fred Quill and George Turner were transferred over to the North Western Railway with James. While George wasn't married or had any family living with him, Fred did. Thankfully, his family agreed to move to Sodor, with special transportation provided by Sir Topham Hatt II to help with the move, having Emily be of assistance for both crewmen.

From their time on the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway, they had seen the trouble James went through as an experimental goods engine after his rebuild, especially with most of his siblings. And especially on the evening of James' last day on the LMS.

Suddenly, one of the workmen in the yard called out. "You may leave now! Emily will be coming by to take it from here!"

Without wasting any time, the crewmen climbed into their engine's cab and left the yard.

…

The following morning, James was the second to last engine to leave the sheds for work when he saw Henry in his berth.

Henry was usually the first to leave. However, the grand green tender engine looked ill. Too ill and tired to move.

"Henry? What's wrong?" asked James quietly.

"I'm having boiler problems again," replied Henry solemnly. "It happens a lot. I'm used to it."

"Since when have you had them?"

"When I was built. The old Fat Director was quite upset when he realized it," Henry replied.

"Can't they do anything to fix it?"

Henry shot a glare at James. "Not after they bought you," he snapped with sudden bitterness. "They said it was too expensive." He squinted at James. "Yet, his first investment was you."

James was thrown off. He hadn't interacted much with Henry but he had initially taken a liking for the grand green tender engine.

"I-I…"

"Just get to work," said Henry. He looked away with a frown. "If you're replacing anyone, it better not be me. Might as well replace Edward or Glynn. I've worked too hard for this railway, for goodness sake."

James stayed silent and left.

If you're replacing anyone, it better not be me…

…it better not be me…

Fred and George began to worry. "Let's go refill on coal and water, chap," said Fred, patting his engine’s cab.

As the black medium-sized tender engine chuffed away, Henry scowled and James could feel it be directed to him.

He felt extremely uncomfortable so he picked up the pace to quickly leave Knapford and head to Tidmouth. His crewmen hollered at him.

He could just use the coal hopper and water tower in Tidmouth Yards.

…

That afternoon, Henry passed through the yard, searching for his goods train. He was able to start running once again and, with enough convincing, Sir Topham Hatt II allowed Henry to pull his goods train to Barrow-in-Furness.

He looked around until he found a long train of trucks full of crates and tarp-covered trucks. Henry smiled at being able to find it as he backed down the front of the train. Nearby was James.

James was preparing a set of trucks to take to Brendam Docks when he saw Henry. He felt tense at seeing him, promptly attempting to ignore him.

Attempting.

"Afternoon, James," said Henry.

"Hi, Henry," James replied swiftly, with a frown.

The grand green tender engine frowned as well. "Listen, I'm sorry about-."

"I don't want to replace anyone," James said suddenly, interrupting Henry. "I didn't come here to replace either of you guys. I was brought to help you guys." James huffed. "Glad they did…" What are you doing? "b-because you don't even do anything!"

"A-Anything?" huffed Henry. Now it was his turn to be thrown off as he fumed. "I work hard for this railway. I push myself to my own limits to get a single job done. I may have been defective, but at least I was appreciated, compared to the failure of an experiment you are!" His crew pulled on the brakes out of fear, locking him onto the track.

James was thrown off as Fred and George tried to soothe him. "How did you-?"

"I remember your sister, alright. The L and YR Class twenty-eight engine? Works number two-forty-three. The one who tried to get me out of that tunnel. I saw her at Barrow-in-Furness before you came here. In fact, I saw you there with her."

The black medium-sized tender engine stayed quiet.

"If you want to be worth the Fat Director's money, you better get going on those trucks, mate," said Henry with a scowl. "I'm leaving." With that, he whistled, announcing his departure from the Tidmouth Yards.

Fred jumped out of James' cab once Henry left, rushing to the front of the engine. James' cheeks burned, turning black as his boiler boiled and bubbled.

"James? Lad? Hello?" Fred called out.

They heard chuffing approaching them.

"W-what happened? James?" exclaimed Edward. He had been on the other side of the shunting yard when he heard a loud, distressing commotion. The blue medium-sized tender engine had seen Henry leave hastily.

"Hey, Quill. You guys alright?" hollered out Sidney Heaver, Edward's fireman as he jumped out of the cab, towards Fred.

"We are, but James isn't," replied Fred, slightly distracted as he tried getting James' attention. "Come on, lad!"

"James? James!" exclaimed Edward.

James wouldn't budge.

An idea came to him. "I'll see if I can find Glynn. He might be just the engine to bring him to." He whistled and chuffed away once Sidney climbed back onto Edward, leaving Fred and George with James.

By the time Edward had found Glynn, it was dark. Glynn had just returned from his final passenger run. Edward quickly shunted away Annie and Clarabel, with the usual gentle care.

But when they arrived, James had disappeared. He had left with his trucks for Brendam Docks.

…

The next day, Emily chuffed up to James, shortly before it was time to pull the Express.

"James, are you alright? I heard what happened yesterday," said Emily.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm alright," he replied.

Emily hummed. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I just needed some time to think alone, that's all."

"Right…" said Emily. "Listen, if you want to talk, just know that I'm here. So are Glynn and Edward."

"Thanks… Um, Emily, is there something wrong with Edward and Glynn?"

"No… Well, Edward has steaming issues but not severe enough to prevent him from working, and Glynn has broken down a couple of times," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothing, just wondering."

"I know you're lying, mate," Emily said bluntly. "Did someone tell you something?"

James looked away and frowned.

"James…"

"Yes…"

Emily sighed, having a good idea of who it was. "Bother. Don't listen to them. They don't know Edward and Glynn as much as I do. Those two are troupers."

"Will the Fat Director replace either one of them?"

"He would never, unlike the board," she grumbled.

"The board? They make the final decisions, don't they?"

"They do, somewhat, but they struggle because of the Fat Director. It takes a lot for both to agree, and that doesn't happen often from what I hear."

"And if it does, when it comes to… replacing?"

"Then… it does."

…

Since that day, James has stayed quiet. Extremely quiet. He didn't like Emily's solemn tone. It bothered him, nagged at him as if a workman was scraping his firebox empty.

His sudden mood change did not go unnoticed but the attempts to speak to him were fruitless, except for Glynn.

"Glynn, there really is no way of escaping being scrapped, is there?" asked James.

The red coffee pot engine sighed. "I'm afraid so. In the end, we will be scrapped. The question isn't if we will be scrapped, it's when we will be scrapped," he replied solemnly. "What brings this up?"

"I just have a lot on my mind…" said James. "I miss my sister."

"You always mention your sister, young lad," said Glynn. "You have other siblings, right?."

"I rather not," said James bitterly. "They were nothing but rude to me. Just absolutely profane." He glanced at Glynn, glaring at the thought of them. "Twelve-five fifty-five, two-forty-three before the Amalgamation, was the only one who respected me after my rebuild. She actually treated me the same way she would treat others."

"My apologies. I didn't mean to set you off," said Glynn.

"It's fine… I'm sorry for responding like that," James replied solemnly.

"We're just really worried about you, James. You weren't… rude when you arrived," Glynn said bluntly. "And you've been acting quite odd."

"I need to get going," replied James. "I have another train to pull from Brendam."

The red coffee pot engine sighed. "Alright then, lad. Take care on the job! I'll see you later!"

James smiled. "Thank you! I'll see you later!" he exclaimed, with a sudden change of mood.

…

"James? James!"

The black medium-sized tender engine jerked awake. "Huh?"

"The Fat Director wants to speak with you," said Emily, who was on the turntable next to the sheds. "There's a little platform in Tidmouth Yards. His office is right there." She whistled. "Goodbye, see you later!" she exclaimed hastily.

"Ah, goodbye!" James exclaimed. He heard snoring to his left. There was Glynn.

That's weird, he thought. Glynn is usually off to work by now…

Not wanting to disturb the coffee pot engine, the black medium-sized tender engine left quickly and quietly.

…

The trek to Tidmouth Yards was uncomfortable and quiet, an appropriate feeling for James at the moment.

Since my rebuild, I wanted to be like every other engine, he thought to himself as he headed to the platform. But after that… I don't think I want to be like any engine. I want to be unique. I want to be different. I want to be special, but still, be a really useful engine.

Sir Topham Hatt II spotted the approaching engine. "Good afternoon, James. I have something special for you," he said once James came to stop at the platform.

"What is it, sir?" asked James.

"Starting tomorrow, you will be going on a trial," Sir Topham Hatt II told him, his voice becoming stern.

"A trial, sir?" James asked, worried.

"I'm putting you on trial on the Ffarquhar Branch Line," said Sir Topham Hatt II. "You will be running the passenger service for that line."

James was shocked. He gasped. "A passenger train?" James asked nervously.

"Yes, a passenger train. That branch line is one of the only operational lines that we can afford right now, and many people from the south of Sodor depend on it. Don't let us down, James," he said sternly. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, sir! I won't let the railway down. I will do my very best."

"You better. Go on with your work now."

"Yes, sir!" replied James. He whistled and chuffed away from the platform, leaving Tidmouth Yards.

…

"I heard ye were put oan trial oan the Ffarquhar Branch Line," asked Edward that afternoon in the Tidmouth Yards.

"Yeah, and?" James asked defensively.

Edward looked ahead, staring blankly at the landscape ahead. "I jist wantit tae say, congratulations," he replied. "I forgot tae say this the other day, but welcome tae yon railway, number six."

"Well, thank you very much," he said. James gestured toward his number. "Took you long enough."

Edward hummed. “Sorry, jist been busy, thon’s all.” He yawned. "I'm gaun'ae get some rest. I'll see ye later," he mumbled as he chuffed away.

There was no response from James, as he was thinking, Twelve-five fifty-five, you were right. I did fit in just fine…

I think.

It was a peaceful summer morning on the Island of Sodor, and today was James' first passenger run.

He was going along the Ffarquhar Branch Line when he heard an unfamiliar whistle. An engine, a stranger, approached right next to him.

When he looked over, he gasped and braked so suddenly. Sparks flew from his wooden brakes.

The engine had no face.

James recognized her from the many stories he had heard on the London, Midland, and Scottish Railway. The very vivid description going through his mind.

"Lady?"

"Indeed I am, James," Lady replied.

"W-What are you doing here?" James asked.

"I am here to simply tell you one thing."

"What is it?" he asked. An odd fear began to boil within him.

"It's one or the other, James. One or the other…" chanted Lady.

She continued chanting when another voice joined.

James looked ahead to see an engine that he knew all too well.

"One or the other," the L&YR Class 28 engine chanted with Lady, looking into James' eyes with no emotion. She was going backward on the track.

"T-Twelve-five fifty-five?" asked James nervously, his voice wavered.

"You see? You fit in just fine! It was one or the other, and you've gone for one," said LMS 12555 so uncannily. "You even have a name! James. What a splendid name for a splendid engine."

"I-I did!" he replied, trying to ignore the uncanny feeling that lingered in the air. "M-maybe one day, you'll be here with me! We can have a peaceful life on Sodor, sis!"

LMS 12555 frowned while Lady continued to chant in the background, "One or the other. One or the other. One or the other…"

At the same time, the space around them changed, and everything deteriorated. It became a black void with the tracks being the only thing in existence.

"But James… it's one or the other…" she said as she began to deteriorate and fade away.

Before James could say anything, a sudden glow enveloped Lady. Within seconds, a golden light flashed, blinding a stunned James, who had a sad face of realization.

James woke up, heavily panting. He looked around in the darkness of Knapford Sheds. He looked to his left.

Glynn was gone. He hadn't seen him since yesterday morning.

It's one or the other… James thought to himself as he began to panic. He squeezed his eyes shut as the phrase repeated itself in his mind.

One or the other…

#ttte james #engines of sudrian rails (shipverse) by muxse #engines of sudrian rails by muxse #my writing #ttte edward #ttte emily #eosr sir bertram topham hatt ii #ttte henry #ttte gordon #eosr jasmine #ttte annie #ttte clarabel #ttte glynn #ttte fic #my art #first Jimmy story (or not if i decide to write stories about the engines' past before the NWR)#who knows at this point lmao #oh well #word count is back to warn ya'll about how long these fics are

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cerenemuxse · 9 months

Text

Bittersweet

May 1925

CW/TW: Engine fighting

The story can be found at @eosr-by-muxse for easier access.

Since his arrival, James has been facing an internal battle between being like everyone else versus being unique. While he’s not sure where he wants to be, he’s certainly sure of two things. His eyes are those of freaks, and when he started to work in the yards, something didn't feel right. Why was he assigned to do shunting first before pulling goods trains? Was there something that they weren't telling him? If so, what else were they hiding?

It's been a week since Glynn disappeared, along with the numbers across James' face. No official word had been made about the coffee pot. The other engines quickly found out about the old red coffeepot's sudden disappearance the day it happened. The realization hit them hard, whether they showed it or not.

Yet Sir Topham Hatt II didn't say anything. None of the other engines asked. James was afraid to ask. Afraid to hear the possibility that Glynn was scrapped.

His red paintwork was dull and there were many chips missings and scratches on it, recalled James. Those must've been signs that he was going to be scrapped.

"James!"

It was a nice color he had. I've never seen a red engine before! Well, not as red as Glynn. Those other red engines were much duller-

"James!" hollered Clarabel once again.

James snapped out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

"The station!" exclaimed Annie.

"Stop!" the sister auburn coaches exclaimed.

James looked ahead and gasped. He snapped his brakes on and screeched to a stop. Annie and Clarabel bumped into each other harshly, buffers banging into one another and against James when he stopped at the station. He overshot the platform by a few centimeters, but that was the least of his worries.

Complaints were muttered and exclaimed as the passengers got off the train.

"What is this nonsense?" exclaimed a small woman. James winced. She was so small yet extremely frightening.

"That other engine was much more responsible!" yelled a tall woman. "Bring that one back!"

James down at his buffer beams, holding back any noise. But he can't be.

"This is such a simple job," said a gentleman sternly. "Does this thing not pay attention?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," replied the small woman. "Look at its eyes."

James froze. His eyes went wide open. He quickly looked away, trying to hide them.

"With eyes like that, it's probably blind," muttered the small woman bluntly. She gave James a quick look down before leaving.

Annie and Clarabel were cross. Sure James should've been paying attention but that was uncalled for. The small woman had crossed the line.

"Don't listen to them, James," said Annie in a comforting tone as passengers left and boarded.

"It was an accident," reassured Clarabel. "You're getting better at it! Right, Annie?"

"He is, Clarabel!" replied Annie.

But they didn't get a response.

"James?" they asked worriedly.

"Hm?" James replied. "Oh, sorry. You were saying?"

"Did you not hear what we said?" asked Clarabel.

"Is something the matter?" asked Annie.

"No! Nothing's wrong!" he exclaimed a bit too quickly.

The sister auburn coaches hummed, unconvinced.

"Alright then," said Annie.

"Let's continue now!" said Clarabel enthusiastically.

Right as Clarabel finished, the guard blew his whistle and James was off, down the Ffarquhar Branch Line. The branch that once belonged to Glynn.

James had been ecstatic when he was first told he would work on the line. It was only for trial but it was still something to be excited about. He was able to pull passenger trains, something so unheard of for a goods engine.

Now, he wasn't so sure. He was still trying to time his stops correctly, almost getting them right quickly. James would either overshoot or undershoot the station. Thankfully, the station masters had been kind and understanding.

He wished the passengers were as well.

"The passengers," he mumbled.

"What about the passengers?" piped up his driver, Fred Quill, nonchalantly.

"Nothing, Mr. Quill!" exclaimed James. "I didn't say anything!"

Fred hummed. "If you say so, chap," he said, patting James' cab. "If you want to talk, just let us know."

James didn't reply.

…

"What's gotten into you, chap?" asked Fred. "You've been quieter than usual."

James and his crew had arrived at Tidmouth Yards just a few minutes ago for a rest. The morning rush hour was over, much to their relief. Fred had climbed out of James' cab with George and walked to James' front buffer beam to confront the engine. They were concerned for their engine.

"Than usual?" asked James. He became tense, feeling the metal pipes heat up but stiffen. His boiler felt dry as the moisture vaporized quickly. "I-I just don't know Annie and Clarabel that well, that's all."

"You can't hide it, James," said Fred. "Is this about what they said?"

James' frame was slightly shaking. He popped his smokebox door open and away from his crew. "About what?"

"You know what I'm referring to."

George approached James and patted the engine's black running board, slightly flinching at its searing hot heat from the sun. It was only the near end of spring. "Don't mind those passengers, James. They'll say anything to get under your skin." He paused looking at James quizzically. "Well, paint but you get the idea."

"I know, I know," mumbled James with a pout. "But what if that lady was right? What if there is something wrong with my eyesight? What if-?"

"Calm down, James! Calm down!" exclaimed George, patting James' running board once again.

Fred rushed forward, climbed onto their engine's running board from the steps on James' left side, between the first and second set of driving wheels, and carefully walked towards James' smokebox. He petted James' smokebox. "Easy there, chap. There's nothing wrong with you."

"How do you know?" he exclaimed. His voice croaked and broke. He was ready to burst right then and there.

But then a high-pitched whistle rang nearby. It startled James, making him nearly shake off his driver. Fred held onto James' handrails for dear life.

"Oh, hey, it's Edward!" exclaimed George. He pointed in the direction of where the whistle and sounds of steam being chuffed were coming from. "Why don't you hang out with him?"

James suddenly puffed up. "I'm not a child! I'm an engine!"

"There he is," joked his driver. "But no, seriously, go talk to him. You know him the most, don't you?"

"I do," replied James. He hummed. "I haven't been able to talk to him in a while either."

"It's settled, then." Fred patted James' smokebox before carefully trudging off the black medium-sized tender engine. "We'll be on our break. See you later!"

"See you later!" exclaimed James as his crew walked away and towards the workroom. Right as they left, Edward was there, in front of him on the next track over.

"Hello, James!" greeted Edward. "How ur ye doin?"

James' mood dropped. "Decent," he muttered and looked down at his running board.

Edward peered at the black medium-sized tender engine. "Whit's the matter?" he asked. "Did somethin' happen?"

James gave a long hum in response. He wanted to tell Edward but he wasn't sure. Can I really trust him? he thought. I know him the most though. He looked up to meet Edward's concerned face and straight into his eyes.

Maybe I can trust him.

"James?" asked the blue medium-sized tender engine. James had stayed quiet and was only looking around. It concerned him even more.

With a heavy sigh, James began. "I've been having trouble stopping at stations properly. I keep overshooting or undershooting them."

Edward only hummed. A sign telling James to continue.

Thankfully, James picked up on it. "The passengers have been complaining about it which I don't blame them but…" He took a deep breath to calm down and soothe the tension in his pipes. "One of them said something," he continued, only for his voice to croak and crack. Not again. His frame felt tense so suddenly as his eyes burned from the boiling water and hot steam.

The other engine was about to interfere when James spoke up, with a bit of sniffling here and there.

"Something about my eyes," said James. But then he froze, staring at his black running board in a confused realization. "None of you have said anything about them."

"Whit dae ye mean?" asked Edward.

"The color! How mismatched they are!" James suddenly exclaimed, catching the attention of the yardmen in the area. "They're so… weird! Don't they bother you?"

The blue medium-sized tender engine was stunned. He was speechless at the sudden burst of his friend.

"Well?" James exclaimed again, raising his voice in desperation. "They're horrible, aren't they? I probably overshot those platforms because of poor eyesight!"

"Poor eyesicht?" Edward hummed before flipping his smokebox door open to his right. He squinted, spotting a labeled truck far away. "Ye see thon truck over there? The brown ane wit’ white letterin' near thon building?"

Though he was confused, and slightly offended by the sudden shift of the conversation, James flipped his smokebox door open to his left and quickly found the truck.

"Whit does it say?" asked Edward once James saw what he was looking at.

"South Sodor Grain Mill," James read at his normal pace. He looked quizzically at his friend as he closed his smokebox door. "Why did you want me to read it?"

"I cannae read thon," Edward said bluntly. He shut his smokebox door. "Yer eyesicht is perfectly fine," he noted with a small warm smile.

"But my eyes-!"

"There's nothin' wrong wit’ yer eyes," Edward interrupted.

Confused, James shook. "But they're ugly! It makes me a freak-!"

"I think they're very pretty," said Edward rather bluntly, still smiling.

James froze.

A compliment…?

That was new.

"R-Really?" stammered James as his face burned.

"Mhm," hummed Edward. "Ane is rich brown and the other is lush green. Like a tree! Ye remember the woods we first passit by oan the day ye got here?"

He definitely remembered them. To Edward's credit, the plants in those woods were pretty lush and rich. He hadn't seen an area so green before. A very quiet place with peaceful scenery, in his own opinion.

But are his eyes really as pretty as the woods?

"Ye should be proud o' ‘em," continued Edward. "I have never seen an engine wit’ heterochromatic eyes before. I've seen very few people wit’ ‘em but never an engine. Until ye, that is." Soft laughter took over Edward's voice.

Hold on. "People have eyes like mine?"

"Aye, some people dae, but it's very rare. I've only seen…" Edward hummed, thinking. "Two or three people wit’ ‘em, and they dinnae come here often."

"So it's… unique?"

"Mhm," he hummed again. Seemed like something Edward did often. "It's okay tae be the same like everyane else, and it's okay tae be different frae everyane else."

The phrase struck him. "Is it?"

"Of course!" Edward replied. "Gordon and Henry ur prototypes o' the same class but they're quite different frae ane another. Henry wis basit oan rejectit plans thon were stolen from Sir Gresley, and Gordon wis basit oan the final plans o' the same man, built under his supervision, o' course."

The black medium-sized tender was shocked. He gasped and exclaimed, "Like those big Pacifics in the LNER?"

"Aye! And then there's Emily. She comes frae the Great Northern Railway, and she's the only engine wit' two drivers oan this railway."

"I've heard of the preserved…" He knew the wheel configuration had a name but he didn't know what the name was.

Thankfully, Edward caught on. "GNR Stirling Single."

"Right. Thanks. I've only heard of her, but I didn't know another one had survived." James squinted his eyes as he looked down at his running board. "Emily doesn't look like that preserved engine, though."

"Thon's because she's an A3 Stirling Single, no' an A1 Stirling Single. She wis part o' the eighteen-ninety-four series, built in eighteen-ninety-five." Edward hummed. "I think March wis her build month. No' too sure, though."

"Eighteen-ninety-five?" exclaimed James. "Oh, wow, she's old!"

"Sh!" Edward shushed James hastily. "Dinnae let her hear ye say thon. She'll tell ye thon her sister is much older."

"And when was she built?"

"Eighteen-seventy."

"That class has seen some things…" was all James could say. Eighteen-seventy? he thought. That engine is half a century old at this point!

The blue medium-sized tender engine chuckled. "They certainly have. No', where wis I?" He hummed for a bit, his lips pursed thoughtfully. "Richt! There's Emily, and then there's Glynn. He's an ane o' a kind design and the only ane left frae one o' the North Westerns predecessors." Edward glanced at James. "I have a feelin' he's told ye whit railway he came frae, richt?"

James didn't reply. His face of curiosity was shadowed by one of sorrow and bitterness.

"James?"

The engine in question was pondering at the mention of Glynn. Maybe Edward knows what happened to the coffee pot, he figured.

"James?" asked Edward again, concerned.

"Edward," began James in a bland tone. Or what would've been if his voice wasn't naturally brash. His heterochromatic eyes looked up at Edward. "What happened to Glynn?"

"Glynn?" replied Edward, noting the confusion in James' eyes.

"Yes, him."

"I…" Edward frowned, and his gray face crumpled. "I dinnae ken whit happenit tae him."

"You don't?"

"Naw, I'm…" Edward suddenly cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I wish I ken. If I did, I wid tell ye."

"Has the Fat Director even said anything?"

"Nawthin."

"...Do you think he's hiding something?"

"Pardon?"

"You think the Fat Director's hiding something?"

"Ah, I dinnae ken."

"But he's the director! He has to know what happened to Glynn!" James grew restless.

"Well-"

"Get a move on, Edward!" someone suddenly hollered.

Both engines flung their smokebox doors open to see Henry.

"You're blocking my way! I need to get to that goods train over there."

"Sorry, Henry!" Edward replied hastily. With a swift jerk of his smokebox door, he closed it and quickly moved forward. "Talk tae ye later, James!" he said hastily as he rushed away with a double whistle.

Henry huffed, shot a glare at James, and went on his way.

The black medium-sized tender engine watched the grand green tender engine, still wary of him. Once Henry was gone, James was left by himself to ponder on Glynn's whereabouts once again.

…

"Do you think he's hiding something?"

James felt his driver shuffle his feet on the wooden flooring of his cab. "What?"

"Do you think the Fat Director is hiding something?"

His pistons were pumping loudly, spewing out clouds of steam. Yet, the black medium-sized tender engine managed to catch his driver's hums.

"Maybe," he finally replied after some time.

"Maybe?"

"Maybe, because I don't know what you mean. Why are you asking this?"

"Glynn. Do you think he's hiding Glynn?"

"It's…" Fred paused for a few seconds. "...entirely possible, chap."

"But why?"

"He might be hiding Glynn from the board."

"O-Oh." His fire felt like it had gone out for a split second. "You think…?"

"Well, Glynn could have very well been… scrapped, James."

The silence joined the conversation, uninvited. It was so quiet that the sound of the couplings clanking against one another as he cruised down the Main Line was louder than his pistons.

"...How much is the Fat Director hiding?" asked James bitterly.

"I don't know, James," replied Fred. "I really don't know."

"Does the Fat Director think I'm not capable l?" he asked, raising his voice.

"What are you on about-?"

"How come I was put to work in the yards first when I arrived?"

The silence interfered.

Fred stood still for a moment before shifting around and bringing his attention back to James' gauges. His engine had a point.

"Maybe…" He tried to muster up a logical response. "Maybe it's how they run things here. Edward's a four-leader, four-driver tender engine. Those specific engines were the most powerful express passenger engines for a while until bigger and better engines came along. Now look at him. He's a station pilot."

"I know that!" exclaimed James. "Most of the express passenger engines on the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway were engines like him!"

"Alright, alright!" Fred chuckled. "But you get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Don't think too much about it, chap," he soothed, patting James' cab. "Maybe it's not what you think it is."

James hummed a pout, which only received a light chuckle from his driver.

"But is it?"

…

"It could be."

"Really?"

Purple eyes looked over at him. "I asked him earlier but he didn't say anything. He just left," replied Emily.

A couple of days had passed since the conversation with his crew. The question had racked around his matte black smokebox, pestering him on a day-to-day basis, and went as far as going into the night within his dreams. His dreams were unwelcoming recently, leaving an odd aura within him every time he woke up.

James' lips creased in a straight frown. "Could Glynn have been scrapped?"

"I hope not," she remarked harshly towards the question itself. "Right now is the worst time to have engines being disposed of, and I doubt the Fat Director would allow it to happen. He's been fighting with the board about Glynn's disposition since he became the director."

"Which was…?"

"Nineteen-twenty-three. He's twenty-two years old if you're curious."

The black medium-sized tender engine was gobsmacked. "Twenty-two?" He glanced around before whispering, "No wonder he looks young and old at the same time."

"You saw those gray hairs, didn't you?" Emily chuckled playfully, but James picked up a tone of sadness. "It's what being the director of a railway does to you. Especially when it's so sudden." Before James could say anything, she continued, "The previous director, Sir Louis Topham Hatt the First, Sir Bertram's father, was voted off and Sir Bertram was voted in. He was already working as Glynn's fireman before becoming part of the management team the year before."

"So it didn't get passed down to him?"

"Oh no, not in this family. They pride themselves in earning from hard work."

James paused. His eyes wandered around in thought. Finally, he asked, "How do you know all of this?"

"The Fat Director tended to confide with us engines way before he started working here. He would usually talk to me because I'm, well, the oldest." She paused and peered at James, eyeing him suspiciously. "Unless you're hiding something."

"I'm way younger than you," he replied.

"Really?" She eyed him suspiciously again. Before she could say anything else, James continued.

"October of Nineteen-twelve," he bluntly replied.

"Ah, a Nineteen-tens engine! Not older than me but certainly not younger than the big guys. I thought you'd be around their age by a year or two. Gordon's the youngest of-" Emily paused. Her face went blank with eyes wide open.

"What is it?" asked James, beginning to panic.

Her cheeks burned. "...I went off the rails, didn't I? Oh my…" she muttered, feeling embarrassed. "Where was I?"

"How the Fat Director confided in you."

"Right!" Her expression lightened up. "He used to confide in me but that changed when he began to work here. I don't know what made it happen, but he started to confide in Edward more often. I'm assuming it's because he knows him more. He still confides in me every so often. Just not as much as he does with Edward."

James pondered for a moment. "Do you think Edward knows where Glynn is?" he asked, purposely avoiding the mention that he had asked Edward.

"I've already asked. He has no idea about his whereabouts."

"Oh." He looked away with a solemn frown. Where could he have gone?

"We can only hope that he's just in the works and not withdrawn." Her expression changed to a cheeky one. "You might as well get ready to give back those coaches, James."

"Huh!" James huffed, playing right along. "He'll have to beat me to them!"

Emily let out a laugh. "Go easy on him."

Both engines burst out laughing before Emily bid her temporary farewells and both engines went back to work.

…

James knew that Emily was joking around but her words stayed ingrained in his mind. With every day that passed to the near end of May, he grew anxious and tensions began to rise. Just the other day, he heard what he assumed were Gordon and Edward getting into an argument. Thankfully, Emily intervened, though in a not-so-nice manner. She'd threatened both engines to throw them under the truck and even send a truck at one of them if it continued. It was enough to keep them at bay.

Or at least he thought.

The black medium-sized tender engine was going about his late morning business, having come back from pulling a goods train to Vicarstown. He was idling for a few minutes when he heard a loud ruckus on the other side of Tidmouth Yard. The sounds of buffers bashing against something. The Troublesome Trucks are probably giving Edward a hard time, he thought, so he went to investigate. Maybe I can help.

But when he arrived in the area, he began to wish he hadn't checked.

A scream tore from Gordon's smokebox. "Watch it, little Edward!"

Edward was noticeably irritated. James had never seen him like that before. It frightened him, and he wanted to leave.

"My apologies, but I am watching," Edward retorted slowly, throwing emphasis on his wording. "I cannae see ye behind this line o' trucks, Gordon."

It seemed like they hadn't noticed him. Maybe if he reversed very slowly-

"Oh, what absolute nonsense! We know you can't bloody see anything, Edward."

"Knock it aff wit' the language. I'm no' blind." Edward huffed. "Whit ur ye doin' in this part o' the yard, anyways? The Express coaches aren't here."

"I came looking for my goods train. It's not there."

"Which ane? Ye mean thon stone train frae the Ffarquhar Quarry?"

"Yes, that one," Gordon replied sternly. "Where is it?"

"I dinnae ken. Go ask James. He wis the ane who brought it here, and I told him where tae put it."

"And where did you tell him to put it?"

"Near the big station."

"It's not there."

"Did ye check?"

Gordon froze before he fumed furiously and wheeshed at Edward, startling the blue medium-sized tender engine. James was still there, shocked as Edward's face scrunched up in anger and annoyance.

The grand blue tender engine hated what Edward was implying. "Are you implying that I didn't check? Like a fool?"

"Naw, I'm simply askin'." He dropped his voice to a whisper, muttering something as he continued working.

As Edward pulled the trucks out of Gordon's way, Gordon moved forward and blocked the points. "What did you say?"

"..."

"I heard you-"

"I wid'nae be surprisit if ye were a fool!" Edward hollered, spewing each word with anger. "Listen, please git oot o' my way sae I can go lookin' for it, or ye're goin' tae run late."

Gordon wheeshed again. "I don't take orders from museum displays."

"And I dinnae take orders from a git."

"...What?"

"I'm no' repeatin' maself, or are ye sae much o' a fool?"

The grand blue tender engine fumed, wheeshing heavily.

As James continued to watch, he heard a whistling sound, as if something was about to pop open.

As if a safety valve was about to burst.

He froze when he realized what was about to happen.

And it did.

The black medium-sized tender engine just didn't expect to see Edward be the one who reacted. The blue medium-sized tender engine violently sent the line of trucks flying towards Gordon, nearly knocking the larger blue engine off the rails. The trucks closer to Gordon derailed, and their contents flew out, crates crashing onto the ground.

Thankfully and surprisingly, no one was hurt, but everyone present was shocked.

Gordon was startled and wore a face of fear that glared at the shocked blue medium-sized tender engine. The latter could only stare with shock at the trucks, having realized what he had done. While both engines were in shock, their crews managed to get a hold of themselves. Edward's crew had failed to pull the brakes on time and were busy checking the engine's steam pressure, while Gordon's crew had climbed off to inspect what damage had been done to the engine's running board and frame.

That's when they became aware of James' presence. Quickly, Gordon's crew signaled James' crew to just leave before either of the engines noticed but it was too late.

Two other whistles were heard. Emily and Henry frantically approached the scene, coming from the direction James was in. It caught Edward and Gordon's attention. Once their eyes landed on the black medium-sized tender engine, they realized James watched the whole thing, having frightened him.

Emily dragged James away as quickly and carefully as she could, startling the engine, as Henry pulled Gordon away and Edward pulled the trucks back on the rails. Once James was uncoupled from Emily after being moved far away from the accident, he rushed away and went back to work.

…

Later that evening, James moved into the center berth of Knapford Sheds. Edward and Emily took the first two berths to the left and were in the very back of the shed while Henry and Gordon took the last two berths and right outside, leaving James with some decent space from the two blue engines. Henry was scolding Gordon but it was nothing compared to the earful Emily was giving Edward. Not even Sir Topham Hatt II's scolding could compete with it.

"What were you thinking?" James heard Emily huff hastily. "You frightened the poor thing."

"I ken whit I did wis wrong, okay?" He heard Edward reply. "How's Gordon?"

"He's fine." The bluntness was heavy.

Edward stayed silent.

"If you're hiding something, you know you can tell me." Emily's tone changed to a comforting one. "This isn't like you. What happened?"

"I jist miss Glynn. Thon's all."

Emily hummed. James couldn't see her but he had a strong feeling she was giving Edward a suspicious look. "Okay. Good night then."

"Guid nicht."

And then he heard nothing from the two. The quiet never came as he could only hear what Gordon and Henry were saying.

And that's with him being the closest to them. He was right behind the doors of his berth.

"He's so obsessed over Glynn," he heard Gordon say.

"Don't act like you're not either. You're not yourself either," he heard Henry reply.

Guess they overheard.

"Be glad Emily didn't come right for you."

"Well, she didn't need to. I don't need to be told what to do."

"Gordon, we are big metal machines that were made to do as we are told."

"You know what I meant-"

"Yes. Yes, I know." Henry huffed. "I don't like Edward either but he had a point. You should've gotten out of his way he told you."

"You're such a hypocrite, Henry," Gordon sneered.

"Fine, sod off then. I'm only trying to help." With that, Henry released his brakes and backed into his berth. James quickly squeezed his eyes shut. His relationship with Henry was rocky ever since the grand green tender engine lashed out on him. It wasn't his fault the Fat Director chose to buy him over fixing Henry.

Unfortunately, Henry noticed James being right behind the door.

"So, you were eavesdropping."

"Uh-"

"Huh, I thought you didn't like drama," Henry interrupted. "But then again, you did go and let your curiosity get the best of you earlier."

"I was worried," James replied defensively and hastily. "I heard something really loud so I went to check if something was wrong."

"Well, you got your answer so why didn't you leave?"

"I got scared."

"Figures." Henry stayed quiet for a few seconds before asking. "How did it happen?"

"The argument?"

"Yeah. What else could I be talking about?"

"I don't know."

"That was a rhetorical question."

"Oh. Gordon went to ask Edward where the trucks I left for him were because he couldn't find them. He said they weren't there."

"So it's your fault the argument broke out!"

"No, it's not!" James whispered harshly. "I left them where I was told to leave them, and Gordon said that he looked there but he couldn't find them."

"How do I know that you didn't just forget?"

"I didn't!" he exclaimed, unaware of Gordon backing into the shed, Edward waking up from the noise, and Emily shifting in her sleep.

"I know your memory is bad but I didn't think it'd be this bad. The Fat Director made the right call in making you work in the yards first before pulling actual goods trains."

James froze. "What?"

"Don't tell me you didn't know. You had to have known, right?"

The black medium-sized tender engine stared back at him. The look was ominous, and it bothered Henry.

"Right?"

"No. I didn't," James replied. "Who told you? I was never told about this?"

"You mean Edward never told you?"

There it was, and speaking of the devil.

"Whit's goin' oan?" Edward asked, slowly approaching the front of the shed and yawning. "Is everythin' alricht?"

"Is everything alright?" James mocked, swiftly flinging his smokebox door open. "Of course, everything is alright! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Whit-?"

"Why didn't you tell me the reason why the Fat Director put me to work in the yards first before actually doing my jobs?"

"I-"

"You didn't tell him?" scolded Emily, who was awakened by Edward seconds priors. "Edward!"

"It wis an order frae the Fat Director."

"But you went ahead and told everyone else but me!" exclaimed James. "You know, the engine it was about!"

"James-"

"Is that what you meant by ‘naive’? Is that what you meant?"

"No! I didnae-!"

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"I didnae want tae upset ye!"

"So you went behind my back and told everyone like it was some sort of-" His safety valve felt like it was going to burst. "-gossip?" he shrieked. Emily, Henry, and Gordon were startled by the fuming engine. They started going to the back of the shed.

"That's no' whit I wantit tae happen!"

"You lied to me!"

"I-I didnae! I jist didnae tell ye!" To James, it just sounded like Edward was coming up with excuses. The desperate tone was giving it away. "T-There's a difference!"

"I don't want to hear your excuse!"

"James, please-!"

With a loud BAM! BAM! BAM!, one of the yardmen banged on the open wooden doors of Gordon's berth. "What is going on? Do I really need to call in the director?"

All the engines swiftly looked at the yardman with panic.

After a while of a silent response, the yardman sighed. "All of you better get to sleep. This is your only warning."

Quickly, both Edward and James backed toward the end of their berths while the others shut their eyes. Once they did, the yardman was satisfied and shut all the doors to the sheds. The yardman hadn't felt it but the hot air within the sheds was overwhelming and uncomfortable. It would remain so for the rest of the evening.

So much for a good rest.

…

The following day wasn't any better for James. It wasn't any better for anyone.

Unfortunately for Edward and James, Sir Topham Hatt II found out about the argument as the yardman reported it once his shift ended the following morning. Edward was already placed on restricted shunting duty in Tidmouth Yards, so placing James with the blue engine would only allow the chance for a fight to break out. Instead, he sent James to work in Vicarstown for the week and gave temporary berth assignments to the engines.

In the evening, all the engines had gathered in Tidmouth Yards as asked by Sir Topham Hatt II. He was furious with his engine's recent behavior, though he had a sneaking suspicion about what was causing it, and it could very well be his fault.

"I am extremely disappointed with everyone's behavior lately. Picking fights like children in a schoolyard," the Fat Director scolded. His voice boomed around the yard to which the engines flinched at. "What has gotten into all of you?"

No one responded.

"Well?"

James spoke up. "...What happened to Glynn, sir?"

The Fat Director and the other engines looked at James. "Pardon?"

"Sir, w-with all due respect, we haven't seen Glynn in days," replied James, frightened. "What happened to him?"

"Is this why everyone has been acting out recently?"

Four "Yes, sir"s and an "Aye, sir" was the answer he got.

With a sigh, the Fat Director came forward. "I'm sorry to have not told any of you sooner but Glynn has been withdrawn from service."

The engines gasped in shock and, some, in horror, despite knowing that this was the possibility of Glynn's fate.

"So he's been scrapped?" asked Emily softly.

"I…," he paused. "I'm afraid so." But then his voice became stern. "I know that all of you miss Glynn and will continue to do so but the way everyone has been acting is unacceptable. Engines who act out lead to a financial struggle for the railway. And without a financially successful railway, we can't continue to operate this place. This includes every single one of you. Does everyone understand?"

"Yes, sir" and "Aye, sir" were uttered again.

"Good. Good night, everyone"

"Good night, sir!" the engines exclaimed without the usual enthusiasm and unity. Whistles were blown at different times and the sounds rang throughout the yards before they left for Knapford Sheds at their own pace.

James was the last to leave, not wanting to be near the others for as long as he could. How could they hide things from me? he thought.

Out of everyone he'd expected to lie to him, James didn’t think that Edward would be the one to do so. Edward was nice and welcoming to him from the moment he arrived, despite the problems that had happened. The Fat Director had said that Edward was reliable and one of the most hardworking engines on the railway.

And that was the problem.

He had taken the Fat Director’s word for it and trusted Edward so quickly when right behind his tender, Edward had been hiding the Fat Director's doubts about him and told the others instead.

So much for trusting him.

Frustrated, he let his mind wander for a bit to something, anything other than what happened recently. No matter how hard he tried, though, he couldn't as his mind landed on one engine.

Glynn.

The red coffee pot had been very welcoming when James arrived at the sheds for the first time. He checked in on him when he noticed something was wrong. Sure he hadn't known Glynn for long but it was upsetting that a new friend of his was now long gone.

Friends.

I miss my friends, he thought as he trod down the tracks and into Knapford Yards.

James dearly missed 10138, 17646, and 17647. He missed his sister, 12555. He missed them all. Hell, he even missed 10138's rather annoying twin sisters, 10141 and 10142. He wanted that last part to be a lie, but he couldn't because it was true.

But did he really want to go back? After that fight with his oldest sibling? The one who had screamed at him for defending himself just that one time? The one who had been the biggest pain in the chassis since his trials after his rebuilds?

No, he didn't. Especially since every other one of his siblings did the same damn thing to him, every single day. Their words haunted his mind every single day. Fifty-Five was the only one who stood by him, and with Fifty-Five was he consistently paired up with, much to his relief.

Fifty-Five had reassured him that there would be a day when he would deliver a goods train to Barrow-in-Furness, just like some of the other North Western engines have.

James could hardly wait for that day to come. To stroll into Barrow-in-Furness and meet with one of his friends, away from the tension happening on the Island of Sodor.

When James settled down in the center berth of the shed, he chuckled to himself. His crew, having decided earlier not to bother the engine and let him be, became concerned by the sound so George promptly asked him, "What's so funny?"

"You remember how I said I would never, ever set foot into Barrow-in-Furness because I want to?"

"I do," George replied. "Very much so. Why?"

"How ironic," he softly sneered, unintentionally giving his crew attitude. "Right now, I want to be there more than ever."

Hey. :3 Have +6k more words of Jimmy in his early days on the North Western Railway.

Thanks Jay for beta-reading it for me once again! :D

#engines of sudrian rails (shipverse) by muxse #engines of sudrian rails by muxse #ttte james #ttte annie #ttte clarabel #ttte edward #ttte henry #ttte emily #ttte gordon #eosr sir bertram topham hatt ii #eosr jasmine #my writing

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