CHAPTER 5B: EMILY- AFTERMATH

Under normal circumstances, the distant sound of waves crashing against a rocky shore would be a calming sound, similar to how many people would fall asleep easier to the sound of raindrops on their windows and rooftops. Combine that with a beautiful and clear night with absolutely no clouds to speak of, fireflies flashing their lights here and there, and a deep forest with thick clusters of trees filling almost every bit of your vision, you would almost have something that you'd normally only be able to picture in fairytales. All that was missing were the actual pixies, and maybe even a unicorn or two, to complete the enchanted storybook image.

Running through this particular forest, however, there was also an old set of railway tracks. If you were to walk north along them, you would quickly end up on one the cliffs overlooking the blue-gray Irish Sea. If you were to travel south, going past the point you started, various twists and turns would bring you back to civilization in the form of Tidmouth, Knapford, and Wellsworth along the main line. If you were to remain at the starting point, however, and look to your left, you would just barely be able to find a lonely siding, slightly veering itself away from the line that was already off the beaten path- one of only a few along these tracks- and concealed by thick bushes. Even the points leading to it were somewhat shrouded in shadow.

On that evening, on the other side of those bushes, a fire burned white-hot from its lone occupant. It would be hard to detect at first because, unlike most fires, it didn't burn bright with light and wasn't visibly exposed for all to witness. It was a blaze unlike the familiar orange flames of a campfire or boiler-fire every person would be familiar with. However, if anyone- engine or human- were to stop for a moment next to the siding and wait, they would regardless begin to feel the heat and tension that came from the other side of the bushes. This heat would make them fear, and many would eventually be forced to retreat back or push forward along the tracks to escape the danger of being severely burned.

Loyalty and understanding, however, was what prevented two Scotsmen in blue railway uniforms from performing either of those maneuvers. Instead of trying to escape the heat, they did all they could to bear it, remaining a safe distance away on the other side of the rails, opposite the concealing vegetation. Of course, if you were to look at their expressions and ask if they were uneasy, the two would nod with neither hesitation nor excuse.

"So…" Leaning on the coal shovel of a fireman, the stoker carrying it looked at his partner nervously, "what do you make of it?"

"Of what, Daniel? Are you asking what I think about what's happening at this very moment," The other one- the driver- answered, looking over at the siding with caution, "or about what's been going on LATELY?"

"We both already know what's probably happening right now, Mick." The other man clarified, "Why d'ya think we're standing over here?" He stomped his foot to emphasize their position.

"Good point." With a sigh, Emily's driver, Mick, shook his head in bewilderment, "I thought…After all that they were throwing at each other at the Steamworks, I thought I was beginning to understand what was going on, what had REALLY happened the other night. I even felt that...I felt that even with the words she left him with, I'd thought maybe- JUST MAYBE- the end of that conversation was the start of something at least RESEMBLING peace."

"Excellent wording, because it wouldn't really have been peace." Daniel chuckled humorlessly, "I was gonna correct you."

"Regardless of whether it lasted, any heat building up between everyone would've still dissipated for the time being, but...after today, NOW I don't know..." He met his partner's gaze, "Everything that's going on…to me, it's like writing a fan parody of your favorite radio or television show on paper, making predictions and your own headcanon, only for it all to be blown out of the water with one particular episode- an official episode that can be better or downright HORRIBLE compared to what you theorized."

"I guess that makes sense." Daniel admitted, "I at least know that this morning blew my hopes for a better passenger run out of the water. Only thing is...this isn't television. It's real life, and over there is a very real steam engine with really dangerous heat coming from her- heat that has nothing to do with the coal I shovel into her firebox." He nodded to the siding, "I'm honestly surprised she kept herself in check around the passengers when we got to the station, especially considering that she was practically sobbing after that brief run-in with James."

"When it comes to work, she IS pretty good at keeping herself composed, even around bitter folks. Besides, Emily couldn't bear to be mean to the passengers even if she wanted to. She couldn't even be too mean to US even if she wanted to. You and I both know that, as well as why." Mick sighed, "But that's HUMANS. When it comes to other engines, though, it's more difficult for her to keep herself restrained. Combine that with engines like JAMES and…." He pointed upwards, "May Heaven help them, because only God can tame the beast at that point. No human being would be able to, not even the two of us.

"With engines like James, no human would WANT to, anyway. Not if they..." Groaning, his partner swung his shovel to rest on his shoulder, "Ugh...You know...WHY are we still doing this? We both KNOW, we were both THERE, yet we're still keeping our mouths shut? We should be going right up to Sir Topham Hatt and telling him what's going on."

"So that he can do WHAT?" The driver scowled at him, "As good of a man as he is, and as caring deep down, I highly doubt that telling him everything is going to make things better. In fact, while I may be a fool for still largely thinking this way, I believe telling him will make things worse for all of us- not just those responsible, but for Emily especially."

"Telling him will bring everything to the surface, Mick."

"And then what? Let's try and go through what can happen based on the past three days alone." Mick raised his hand and started to count on his fingers, "James will be punished, for one-"

"As he SHOULD be, no matter how sorry he claims to be." Daniel answered.

"-BUT so will Thomas and Rosie."

"As THEY should be." His partner countered, "They'll ALL get their just desserts."

"Really?" Mick's eyebrow went up at his friend, "Danny, I may be still be lost on what's exactly going on, but here's my theory: From what I can just barely understand, I think what's been going on is finally- FINALLY- a second punch, while Emily's thrown the first. In fact, not even that: Other engines threw that first punch, Emily threw the second at everyone else, and today marks two of them finally getting fed up enough that they're retaliating as well- but it's against another victim."

"Well, OBVIOUSLY, they're retaliating because they don't know who the actual instigators are." Daniel insisted, "But if we told Sir Topham Hatt-"

"If we told Sir Topham Hatt, I feel that EVERYONE would be punished the SAME EXACT WAY, and what justice does that do for Emily?"

"I don't follow…"

Mick sighed, "The three of us came to Sodor for a new life, a new start. You and I, we've had our run-ins with trouble, but Emily was- IS- the kindest soul either of us had ever met, someone who would never naturally want to do harm. And what happens? She- not us, who actually deserve it more- but SHE is the one who is attacked." His gaze softened, "She's hurting inside, and we both know that she hates what she's become, but it's gone on for so long- is STILL going on- that it seems she just can't allow herself to regress at this stage. That anger she feels, it's not just at James or Thomas, but also at herself." He hung his head, "And Thomas, too...As much as I hate what he's done these past few days, he is by no means as guilty of hurting her as an engine like James is- at least not in the same way."

"Again," Daniel muttered, "good choice of words."

His friend continued, "In fact, I'd say he's in the same position as she is, which means the two of them- three or more, including Rosie and anyone else who suddenly and randomly decides to lose it- being punished equally alongside the engines who started this whole thing will only be a lack of real justice. That'll make things worse, like convicting a man to death who shot an intruder to protect his family while an actual murderer gets only the life sentence."

Daniel was silent, considering the words.

"In short, it would be a complete warring states period: so many friendships will ultimately be severed, teamwork will be next to nonexistent," The driver's eyes widened in fearful realization, "and Heavens above, the whole Steam Team itself will fall apart. The rest of the railway just might follow without that core. And if the railway goes under…"

His coworker stared at him like he had just grown two heads, "That is a frighteningly elaborate dystopia for you to theorize, especially considering it's the result of only two random events over the past three days."

"I guess my father's pessimism has rubbed off on me a bit."

"No kidding. Are you absolutely sure you're not exaggerating, chum?"

"First of all, it's something I've been theorizing for months now. The past three days have only made it more clear to me. And second of all," He shook his head, "no, I'm not. Topham Hatt is level-headed but not impenetrable. Even he has lines he's drawn and can be pushed across with enough provocation. If he knew, especially now of all times, all the heat and anger and accusations flying around right now would only increase and it would force him to take harsh action on everyone involved- he won't care who started it, just that the fighting stops NOW. Just picture that argument Thomas and Emily had at the Steamworks on a worse scale, combine it with Topham Hatt's fuse-"

"-and given that Thomas and Emily are both the sort of engine to never easily back down from challenges," Daniel realized, "they can go at it for hours with just one another and his fuse will LONG be burned out."

"The downside of two people who are a lot alike. Plus, that's not even counting factors such as James possibly denying his part in starting it, or Rosie in contributing to it, not to mention all of them and more starting to fight at once." The other Scotsman nodded, remembering the argument between the Stirling and the two tank engines after the turntable incident had occurred- as well as how Sir Topham Hart had finally broken it up, "After what happened, especially with Thomas and Emily being late, he was quick to get irritated and dish out punishments. I fear something like that happening but on a larger, almost-nuclear scale. As the head railway controller, too, he'd have to act in some way the very SECOND he learns of this or face criticisms from even higher up on the chain of command. He can't keep silent on the issue like we can." He paused, "Emily trusts us, Daniel. We've been her crew and friends for years now, after all, but she also loves this railway and… even with how she acts now, just think about how she'll feel if we were to set something like that in motion."

"I can't even begin to imagine…" The fireman thought long and hard, but he ultimately gave a defeated shake of his head, "How do you think she'll feel?"

"If we felled the dominoes right now? Well…" He stared at Daniel, "tell me, you ever wonder what being stonewalled by your own engine is like?"

"Considering that engines of both genders have more heart than most humans, and can make you feel TWICE as guilty for wronging them or someone they know, I don't particularly wanna know what it's like…." Daniel sighed, "Okay, I can maybe see your point there, but we can't just keep silent, either, Mick. Emily's holding a lot in right now like you said, and with what she went through today…Well, we both checked her pressure gauges."

The two of them shivered, remembering the unnaturally-high readings they had kept seeing until the late afternoon.

"If we can't take the risk with telling Sir Topham Hatt, there's still gotta be a way that we can help her. Lighten her burden, you know? Either way," He pounded his forehead with a fist, trying to jumpstart his mind, "there's got to be SOMETHING, someway...somewhere…."

And the question is the W's- all five of them, including how. Mick thought, knowing Daniel was right.

With a glance at the siding, he inhaled deeply before taking a step forward onto the tracks separating them from it. Looking back at his partner, he nodded his head once, "With two men like us and an engine like her? Well…the way I see it, the only way we're gonna come up with any final answer to this situation is together as a team."

"That DOES sound like a good place to start," Daniel nodded, almost reminiscent, "but that's assuming she actually WANTS us to check on her anymore tonight. Or at all. Heck, she asked for us to give her space, so for all we know, she probably expects us to leave her here until tomorrow morning."

"That's not happening. We've let her stew for almost two hours now, but judging by the fact that I can't even cut the tension with a knife anymore, I don't think leaving her be is doing any good."

"Yeah. I know you're right," Daniel grew concerned, "and I'm usually able to work up the nerve to go over there right now, but…." Seeing that Mick had continued walking towards the siding, the fireman shook his head in disapproval, "that girl's a caged lioness you're planning on disturbing. She's gonna run you down." He sighed, "First you, and then maybe she'll derail herself just to hit me when I try to run."

"Oh, she will not, and even if that was true," He smirked over his shoulder, "then you're a brave man if you're willing to be ALONE with our lioness in your last moments."

"Wha-? Oh no you don't!" The realization hit Daniel like a brick and he was at that point more than happy to join him, sticking close to his side, "If you have to go down like that, we both go together. You are NOT leaving me behind!"

"Such a dark- yet brotherly- way with words of your own. You know, you should really become a poet." His friend snickered.

Daniel snorted, "Look who's talking, Mr. 'Sodor's doomed 'till Judgement Day if we don't keep our traps shut.'"

"See? Poetic!"

"Shut up."

With that exchange, the two of them made their way slowly across the tracks to the other side, keeping their cautious eyes on the concealing foliage as they crept closer. As they went, the slight amusement they'd had a minute earlier faded as they started to feel nervous with what they heard- or didn't hear, that is. Even as they neared the siding, the air around the men seemed to be flooded with nothing but dead silence. Considering that engines always seemed able to make at least one sound to break the silence- steam, whistle, or anything of the sort- it was always something along the lines of a bad omen to hear nothing from them whatsoever.

Mick strained his ears, knowing full-well that it was a siding with one entrance and that Emily was still sitting in it, How and why is she so quiet? You'd think she'd- oh.

To their combined relief, and with their ears practically scraping the branches of the bushes, the two sighed when they finally heard the sound of soft breathing.

"Whew, I was getting worried." Daniel chuckled, listening some more, "Still feel that tension, but she doesn't sound like she's crying or irritated, so that's good." Taking initiative, he walked past Mick and grinned, "Maybe leaving her alone DID do some good after all. Perhaps we're just being paranoid."

His partner laid a hand on his shoulder, "Calm or not, at least take a peek around the corner before you just go waltzing in there. You know she always hated it back at Knapford, especially after work when you just kept bothering her some days for dumb reasons."

"Good point." The fireman nodded, remembering.

Taking Mick's advice, he backed up against the bushes and crept the rest of the way along the outer edge of the bushes until he reached the corner near the points. He then without hesitation leaned to the side to peek around the corner.

As he did, Mick opened his mouth to ask, "How is she?"

What actually came out was "Ho-OOF!" as Daniel suddenly jumped back as if something had tried to grab him by the neck, running into his friend in the process.

"What in the blazes happened?" Bracing his feet to keep them both from falling over, Mick immediately noticed and felt his coworker shaking like a leaf, "Danny...are you alright?"

"W-We're not paranoid." His partner quickly shook his head.

"What?"

"I-I honestly hope no other engines come by and need to use this siding." The poor man muttered as if he didn't hear him, eyes wide in fear, "Because I know I'd be terrified if I saw THAT," He pointed at the corner, "waiting for me."

"Saw what?" Mick demanded, "It's just Emily in there."

"You should see for yourself." Daniel gulped, "I don't think she's really OUR Emily right now."

Releasing him, the other Scotsman went over and copied his former position, peering slowly around the bushes into the siding, "What do you mean she-?"

The poor driver wasn't certain, but he could've sworn he felt his heart stop for a few beats at what he saw, Holy….

Emily was indeed neither irritated or sad, but Mick realized he should've known better than to even begin to equate their engine's soft breathing with a benevolent emotion. Thanks to that misconception, however, the sight that greeted him as he looked around the corner could only be described as pure nightmare fuel- and it was mostly centered around Emily's current facial expression.

The Stirling's brow was extremely furrowed, both eyebrows almost arcing straight down in the middle towards her nose in a way that only seemed comparable to Diesel 10 or Diesel whenever someone ran them up the wall (which was still quite often, considering the remaining rivalry between the diesels and steamies). As for her nose itself, in contrast yet in sync to her calm breaths, both Scotsmen watched as her nostrils widened and narrowed like a rodeo bull's. Further down, her lips were curled into a snarl, exposing a set jaw and grit teeth- teeth that were large, strong, and more than sharp enough to snap a lead pipe in half like a pretzel stick. However, the most frightening part of the look on Emily's face at that moment was her eyes. The emerald engine had always possessed a certain sparkle in them that was the most prominent whenever she was happy, and the most dulled whenever she was annoyed or cross (the best example having been the incident with Thomas and his snowplow). While the sparkle remained now, rather than make Emily look friendly, it made her pupils seem to glow, which in the current light gave the illusion of a female tender engine with pitch-black irises- demonic-looking eyes.

That wasn't all the dim nighttime lighting did. Emily's dark-green frame seemed to disappear and become camouflaged with the surrounding foliage. The black paint of her signature curved smokebox blended into the shadows with the rest of her, while on top of it, the Stirling's tall onyx funnel let out a watermelon-sized cloud of black smoke with every exhale, the only thing marking its own existence being the heavily-filtered moonlight shining on the halo-like brass ring at its end. The result of all of this was making Emily's already-pale face seem like it was floating in midair like a ghostly, disembodied head.

The only other detail that somewhat broke this illusion was her buffers, the top edges of which showed themselves in the really dim light with a silver sheen- barely, even less than her funnel ring. They all still paled in comparison to the rest of their engine, nonetheless. Mick shuddered, thanking the Almighty that this line they were on was older and less-used as he stepped back, turning to face his partner.

For a long moment, the two shared an uneasy gaze.

"Well," The driver exhaled, "this is new."

"No kidding." Daniel crossed his arms, "I was only half-joking before, but now leaving her here until morning seems like a GREAT idea."

"I am NOT walking home through these woods. There's no telling how quickly we could get lost or fall in a hole and twist both ankles."

"We could walk on the bloody rails." The fireman countered.

"No. It's easier to navigate, but still too dangerous when you get back to the main lines, particularly with engines wanting to go faster to get work done so they can head off to sleep. I'd rather stay here. Besides," Mick gestured around them, "regardless of how we might go, with how far we still are from Tidmouth, it'll be morning and time to come BACK the second we make it to the edge of the yards on foot."

"I think I'd rather take my own chances with another engine than ask THAT to take us home." His comrade pointed at the siding.

"Do NOT start making her out to be a villain, not now." Mick growled, slapping his arm down, "Seriously, Daniel..."

"Well, it's not like either of us really have a plan of action if we both agree that this is new."

"Well, then let's at least take heart in the fact that NONE of her crews over the years have had this happen." Mick tapped his forehead, "Remember the records? We read every single one of them to get a feel for her personality in the beginning, and none of them ever mentioned anything like this. It just goes to show how much of a good person we know she truly is."

"Fair enough, but now WE are experiencing it first-time and firsthand without any clue as to how to deal with it. So tell me," He leaned on his shovel again, giving him a pointed glare, "if we're not going to exit stage-left, any bright ideas in that head of yours on where to go from here?"

Mick scratched his head, "Well...for starters, at least we now know what she looks like when she's angry- REALLY angry…."

It was true. If he could compare it to something he was familiar with, being mad or cross was like grog- watered down with other emotions like sympathy, love, and sadness- whereas true anger was like straight whiskey with every emotion that opposed the others, including hatred. While there wasn't as big a gap between being mad and angry as there was with feeling guilt and remorse, there was still a noticeable difference- albeit a difference that existed as a spectrum. At the most, Emily only ever seemed to get mad with someone or something, giving them a look that screamed, "Are you kidding me!?", similar to how a wife might look at her husband or a sister might look at her brothers whenever they did something that seemed so unbelievably idiotic to her. No human or engine had ever reported seeing her go beyond that, not even the most devious of diesels, and if Mick was honest, Emily's old sweet, gentle, yet assertive personality red-labeled her as someone you did NOT want to drive up that wall in the first place. Common sense said it all: The nicest of people could become your worst nightmare if you wronged them or those they cared about.

And with engines, that rule supposedly went double.

The driver looked around the corner, gazing at his engine's thousand-yard stare, at a loss for how to respond to Daniel's question.

Suddenly, his mind halted, Wait….

His let his thoughts backtrack a little bit, A THOUSAND-YARD STARE? Hang on a second….

"Mick, you fool!" Daniel whispered loudly, looking on in horror as he began to walk on the tracks towards the Stirling, "What the heck are you doing!?"

"I just realized something, Danny." Mick looked over his shoulder at him, raising his hand for silence, "You know...it's pretty quiet out here. SHE'S pretty quiet. No mumbling, nothing."

"So?"

"Just watch."

"Watch what? Your murder? She may be no villain, but an engine that's angry is still an engine that'll act without thinking, just like us humans."

"That's normally true, but I doubt it is in this case. I've got a feeling…."

Trailing off, he turned and continued walking towards their friend until he stopped roughly five feet from her buffers. Then, with one last glance back to make sure Daniel was watching, he made himself even more conspicuous to the emerald engine by waving.

There was…no reaction.

Emily's expression didn't change nor did she make any acknowledgement of her driver's presence before her.

Maybe a little closer… He slowly came within three feet before removing his hat, waving again and using it like a blue flag, but again there was no reaction. The Stirling's breathing and expression remained undisturbed. The latter bored into him, but as hard as it was to look at her without shaking, he could now clearly see that they definitely seemed to look THROUGH him and not AT him, Yep. Just like I was thinking...

Needing one last bit of clarification for the books, though, he walked right up to Emily, standing right between her buffers to the point that his ribs were lightly brushing against her coupling. Once there, he reached his right arm out-

Daniel gasped, "Mick, no-!"

-and snapped his fingers right in his engine's face.

Both mens' breath hitched.

"..."

"..."

"..."

That was ALL that happened though. Emily once again failed to react.

Mick exhaled, "Just as I thought."

Nodding to himself, the driver turned and calmly- CALMLY, with his back to her and vulnerable to attack- strode back to where his partner remained hidden.

"Wha…? You were right in her face, and she did NOTHING!?" Daniel's jaw seemed about to hit the floor, "How is that…? WHAT!?"

"Well...do you want the bad news or the decent news first?"

"What's the decent news?"

"The decent news is...she's PROBABLY not actually angry right now."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Daniel looked at him like he was an idiot, "It's literally plastered across her face!"

"True...but…" Mick sighed, knowing he had to start from the beginning, "My family was friends with a pastor back in Glasgow, and he told us that he had something like this happen in his congregation roughly three years before we were hired on by the railway back home. A man in the church had a similar look during services one Sunday and everyone sat well away from him, giving him practically the whole pew. Here's the thing, though." He glanced at the emerald engine, "That same man stopped by his office and apologized for making everyone nervous. After giving him some clerical counseling, he later learned that the man was actually angry at his wife for cheating on him and divorcing him a week prior, not at anyone in church on that particular Sunday. This isn't exactly the same type of event, but..." Mick nodded at the memory, "The pastor personally called it a 'Vexation Trance.'"

"'Vexation Trance?'" Daniel blinked.

"He said it was fueled directly by the 'Fires of Anger' themselves. All it takes is for the person experiencing it to think about their problems, at best disappointment and at worst pure hatred for whatever reason, such as something they wanted and lost to their greatest enemy or maybe a way their fellow man wronged them. You know, not 'putting it away' as the scriptures say? Anyway, they 'derealize', he said, and as they detach themselves from the world, they may not be feeling completely hateful, per se, but that raw anger will still be brought to the surface for all to see."

"I have NEVER heard of something like that before." Daniel shook his head.

"Well, he ALSO said that it was a rare occurrence that isn't too commonplace with most people. In fact, I guarantee you won't even find mention of it in most places, but here's another way you can picture it: Remember back in school when you had your eyes on that one lassie for awhile? You didn't say ANYTHING, didn't even consciously SHOW it, and yet you wanna know how she and the rest of the school figured you had something for her?" The other man raised an eyebrow, "It was because you were thinking so deeply about her in class that the biggest and dumbest grin kept crossing your face. You even absentmindedly turned your eyes to look her way, still wearing that smile."

Daniel's face flushed red, "Oh…Well, that explains the weird looks in the halls and the way she avoided me after graduation..." He shook his head, clearing that humiliation from his mind, and then looked at Mick seriously, "So...Emily's deep in thought, in a...Vexation Trance? It's...like that OTHER trance-?"

"-BUT fueled by bad thoughts, showing anger that she may or may not be even feeling, which itself is powered by hate- and again, she could or could not be feeling it. It's just the thoughts she's having that's making her unconsciously do this right now- STRONG thoughts. Heck, she might even be crying inside for all we know." Mick shrugged, "I honestly have no idea."

"...What's the bad news, then? You said you had that and the decent news."

Mick groaned, "The fact that she's doing this now is a sure sign that Thomas's stunt and Rosie's actions have made things worse to the point where leaving her to try and cool off in this siding like usual is most definitely NOT going to help any of us anymore."

"Oh boy…" The fireman gulped, then looked at Emily himself, cringing once more at her expression and wondering just how the heck they were going to pull off keeping everything on the down-low like they wanted if giving her space after a rough day was no longer going to be enough. After all, they had failed to keep her from becoming the bossy buffers she was now, and that was with the option of the siding they were standing in.

For the moment, though, what Mick said about working together was something he was absolutely sure about, especially now, "So...she's safe?"

"I'm ninety-nine-percent sure she is, yeah."

"Okay, so…" Taking a careful few steps forward to test the waters, Daniel finally walked with his partner up to the female tender engine, "how do we snap her out of it? I mean, we SHOULD snap her out of it, shouldn't we? Talk to her?"

"Obviously, since that was the whole point of coming back over here. Talking to us might be a bit more therapeutic and a good substitute to cooling off for her, at least for now. How long that'll last, though, I can't say."

"So…?" Daniel looked pointedly at him.

"Hmm…" Mick considered it for a second, She didn't respond to me snapping my fingers. What about physical contact…?

Walking around to her side, the driver took a moment to limber up before running and climbing onto the Stirling engine's running boards, ending up just behind her smokebox. Reaching up with one hand and grabbing her boiler's handrail for support, he motioned for Daniel to safely get clear of the tracks with his other hand before he then tapped the end of the emerald engine's smokebox closest to her pistons, "Emily?"

She didn't respond.

Flattening his palm, he stood and gave a few hard smacks to the black-painted metal that was at eye-level, speaking a bit louder, "Emily."

Again, no response.

Seriously!? What'll it take, a foghorn? Mick leaned forward and around, roughly poking her left cheek in the spot next to her eye- and OF COURSE receiving zip, zilch, and nada for a response, Are you ki- HOW OUT OF IT IS SHE!?

He suddenly began to feel very frustrated in his own right, but he forced it back down and calmed himself. Instead, he looked at Daniel, "Okay, so my way didn't work. How about you? Any ideas?"

"I've got one." With a smirk, the fireman shouldered his shovel and walked past him to their engine's left-side driving wheel. The matching eight-foot-diameter components and the cranking coupling rods attached to them were without a doubt their Stirling engine's pride and joy, being more unique than other wheel arrangements found on Sodor's engines.

Secretly though, known pretty much only to the crews and engineers among other things, driving wheels were ALSO the most touch-sensitive external parts of any engine regardless of make and model, steam or diesel. Regarding it for just a second, Daniel then breathed into his hand before reaching out and calmly rubbing it over the end of Emily's coupling rod as if he was shining a fresh apple. He then took a step back, raised his shovel like a cricket bat, and took aim, "Sorry about this, girl."

Mick's grip on the handrail tightened.

CLANG!

"Ahh!" The effect was immediate as Emily suddenly jolted forward several meters, her eyes widening in complete surprise and her angry expression disappearing entirely. Even holding on as he was, the quick movement still nearly caused her driver to have a nasty spill as his knuckles whitened around the handrail. After the initial surprise though, the force of the shovel's blow to her wheel finally registered and the emerald engine's face contorted into a pained grimace as she slowly settled back into her former position, "Ow..."

Looking back, the Stirling's eyes filled with confusion when she saw her driver on her running boards. They then filled with outright betrayal when she saw her fireman standing further back near her beloved driving wheels, "Cinders and ashes, Daniel, what was THAT for!?"

"Well, Mick couldn't snap you out of it, and he was right under your nose," The shovel-wielding man explained, sounding relieved, "so I figured this would be the next best thing."

"Next best thing for WHAT?" Emily grumbled, giving a threatening gesture with her eyes that told Daniel to step away from the large green wheel that instant if he didn't want to get hurt later.

The fireman obeyed, keeping his hands- and shovel- where she could see them as he walked to stand next to her buffer beam, "Well...Mick said you were in a Vexation Trance, Em."

"A vex-WHAT?" Emily blinked, looking higher up at her driver, "What is he talking about?"

"Emily," Taking a few steps forward, Mick walked onto her buffer bar and casually leaned against the front edge of her smokebox, looking at her face-to-face with concern, "it's been two hours. We came back over to see how you were feeling, but with the Lord Almighty as our witness, you looked for all the world like you wanted to KILL somebody. Think that claw-wearing monster Diesel 10, but even more terrifying and camouflaged to boot, and that's what you looked like."

The Stirling's brow furrowed in thought, "I did? I...really looked THAT scary?"

"It scared the heck out of ME, at least, not that Mick will admit to it getting him too." Daniel added, but then hesitated, "You...DON'T actually want to kill anyone, do you?"

Emily frowned, but not as bad as before and definitely not without her usual irritation (which was a relief), "No, not KILL, I just...I don't know. Look, I didn't mean to scare you two or anything. I really...I was just trying to think."

"That much was obvious. Today's done nothing but help give all of us a lot to think about- whether we want to or not." Mick sighed, "Let me guess: Thomas? Rosie?" He paused, "James?"

"All of the above, yet I HATE thinking about that last one." Emily growled, "Really…What right did that blood-painted diesel think he had, after all he did and all he said to me?" She gently shook herself no, minding the human on her front, "None! He had no right- NO RIGHT- to just think he could come up to me and ask me if I'm okay as if we were friends. He has no right to even pretend. I'm just...I just...I hate him." She took a deep breath, letting it out as a sad sigh, "I hate James. So. Much."

"We're not judging you for that, make no mistake. Every action he took, every word he said, those are things that hit hard and are extremely difficult to forgive." Mick scowled at the thought of the red engine. Thinking about how Emily had screamed at him earlier as well, he decided to ask, "But...do you really think he was pretending? At least today?"

"Maybe he wasn't, but I honestly don't care. It doesn't cover up the pain...," She muttered, "and like I told him, with what's been going on lately, I'm starting to wonder if anything ever will again."

"He DID add a sorry into what he was saying, though. What if he actually meant his apology?"

"Then that makes everything he's ever said and done suddenly okay? No, it doesn't. Thanks to him…" She closed her eyes, flashbacks starting to appear that she did NOT want to see again for the millionth time, and sadness filled her features, "Why, Mick...? Why is all of this happening? Why is ANY of it happening? Last week, things were...I GUESS you could say 'normal', and while it wasn't perfect, it was better."

"Agreed." The men affirmed together.

"Now, though, I've been utterly humiliated- TWICE- and by engines I thought were still my friends, and now it seems like the world is just...closing in around me even more..." Her lip quivered, "...particularly Thomas..."

Mick caressed her smokebox in a comforting way, "PARTICULARLY Thomas?"

"The incident with his snowplough, my argument with Elizabeth while she was clearing the tracks, him staying at Knapford with me…" She sighed, "I thought...After everything else, after everything in GENERAL, I thought Thomas was always a CONSTANT. No matter what, he...he was always there and he was always my best friend. But the other night…." A flashback to her seconds-late arrival crossed her sad eyes, "Why did he do that? What was he trying to prove or what did he have to gain by nearly leaving his passengers behind? Making ME look like..." She trailed off again.

Both Scotsmen looked at each other, but neither answered at that second, wanting to let the Stirling speak her mind in full.

"And earlier today...even if I was mad at him at the Steamworks yesterday, I would've thought he'd have at least defended me when what happened was clearly Rosie's fault." She grumbled, "I even told him- CONCEDED- that I wouldn't bother him about his coaches anymore, but...instead he agreed with her dumb logic, and I was made to look like a fool by both of them." She shook herself in disbelief, "WHY?"

"Rosie was punished with you, though. You both got the lecture." Daniel reasoned, laying his hand on her buffer and rubbing his thumb over it in a comforting manner, "As little as any of us could even stand to be near her after that, there's THAT justice, at least."

"Is it really justice, Daniel? Sir Topham Hatt, the yard manager, everyone at Knapford is going to have me labeled as an engine who doesn't listen, an engine who doesn't follow orders, an engine, quote-unquote 'too big for her already-enormous wheels.'" She explained, squeezing her eyes shut at that last one as if it had inflicted actual physical pain on her, greater than a coal shovel. "And if word gets around Sodor to the other yards..."

"They won't do or say any of those things- ESPECIALLY that last one." Her fireman lightly smacked her buffer bar, rebuking her, "James said that he went through something similar. If you can actually believe that, then it means that what happened today wasn't the first time and it surely won't be the last." He nodded to himself, "If it's even written down at all, that torture session of roundabouts will be put on your record as 'accidental', nothing more."

Mick knew that his partner had a point, but then again, so did Emily, "The key word she said is 'labeled', Danny, as in it will be put on paper as accidental for visiting inspectors and future generations to come. In the present, though, things are said and believed by charisma, the word of mouth, and the most destructive part of the body: the tongue. Rosie, last I checked, is QUITE charismatic with quite the verbal tongue to express it." He crossed his arms, "Emily's right about that: Word WILL get around, and while I highly doubt they'll make design insults against her, Rosie still put up a good enough farce by continuously offering to get her coaches and acting WORRIED, as well as having a good argument to protect herself after this poor girl was already trapped with nowhere to run…" He paused for a second, "As much as I'd hate to say it, it's our word against a station pilot's to Knapford's staff."

"Our wo-" Emily had been looking down at her buffers during the two mens' exchange, but at Mick's last sentence, her eyes suddenly widened and then narrowed into a glare at him, "What do you mean OUR word?

For a moment, he was confused, but upon realizing what she was talking about, Mick returned the glare, "I know what you're thinking and I'm warning you: Stop thinking it. "

"Oh, I WILL think about it. After all, we all heard Rosie, knew what had happened…but when it came time to say something, I was the only one talking!" She growled at him, "YOU TWO didn't say anything in my defense!"

"Emily..." Mick warned.

"It's like you both wer-!"

"Emily the Stirling Engine!" He reprimanded, yelling in her face and shutting her up, then pointed right at her, speaking normally with an even, ominous tone, "I urge you to think VERY CAREFULLY about that path you're about to go down, lass, BEFORE you make enemies out of us too." He leaned forward, looking her dead in the eye, "We've stood by you for this long, we've tolerated you turning on all of your friends because you're one of the engines- one of the PEOPLE- we care about most."

Daniel matched his look, "Turn on US, and we WILL walk away right now."

"Oh yeah? Fine then." She challenged, thinking they were both bluffing, "Go right ahead."

"Let's go, Daniel." Mick pointedly turned and hopped back down to the ground, "I guess we ARE walking home tonight."

"Wait, wha-" Emily's look immediately one-eightied to one of surprise and as she nervously watched them dismount and start walking away, "W-where are you two going?"

"We don't make threats, Emily, we make promises." The driver pointedly said as they made it ten meters away, "You got everything of yours, Daniel?" Five

"Yep. You?" Daniel nodded, shouldering his shovel. Four

"Yep." Three

Unseen by the now-panicking Stirling behind them, both men shared a wink as they made it fifteen meters. Two

Sixteen meters. The siding's entrance was right there before them. One…

And...

"W-wait! Mick...Daniel, please wait!" All at once, Emily was right behind them and nearly bowling them over with her much larger size, her expression now filled to the brim with terror as she immediately regretted getting mad at them, "Don't leave!"

Bingo. Both men turned with their armed crossed, looking at her expectantly.

"I.." She gulped, knowing exactly what she had to say, "I didn't mean...I...I just..." She looked at them, then looked down in shame, "I'm sorry."

That right there. The utter remorse and honesty in just that simple apology- more than in any apology she'd given in a long time- only served to prove what Mick had said about Emily not being able to be too mean to them. Despite expecting it, though, it still came as a surprise even then to see just a little bit of Emily's old self shine through.

On top of that, her fear of them leaving her behind was understandable. Even though engines like the emerald Stirling were capable of things like self-movement, there was only so far any engine could eventually get without a crew in their cab. A driver like Mick, especially, was not only a set of eyes on her gauges but also extra control over speed, steam, and another set of reflexes on the brakes in an emergency. When it came to crewmen who particularly bonded with and understood their engine like the two Scotsmen did with her, Emily knew that Mick and Daniel- and all several pairs of her drivers and firemen before them- were long past just being coworkers, teammates, and even family. To her, the two men had become a large part of herself- and HEAVEN FORBID it if she pushed that part of herself away along with everything else. Of course, at heated moments like this, she cursed herself for always seeming to forget that fact until it was nearly too late. Thankfully, though, the two Scotsmen only ever needed an apology from her in order to forgive and forget.

Mick knew her irritation at them was still somewhat justified anyway.

"In that case, are you good to work with us?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow, "Listen? Collaborate?"

She nodded without hesitation.

"Good. Now look: You're right, Em, we COULD'VE said something, and now that you've mentioned it, maybe it WAS our bad that we didn't." Sharing a look with Daniel, he looked back at her and shrugged, "Say we had spoken up, though...WHAT could we have said? The only evidence that Rosie even messed up was her choice of words to you, and even then, there's no available proof that she intentionally tried to give you anything but the message to not go onto the turntable. On top of that, the way she countered you and the way Thomas seemed to immediately understand and justify her distorted words right off the bat was like telling everyone present that it really was the same message with slightly different words." He bowed his head, sadly, "And besides, even if we DID have something, I doubt anyone would've believed us."

"They wouldn't?" Emily was stunned at that revelation, "Why not? You two are among the hardest workers both on and off the rails!"

"Very true, but where credibility is concerned, we would've only been able to have a leg to stand on if it was one of us or another human Rosie had gotten into that sort of predicament- OFF the rails. On the rails, though, tell me: Who are we usually associated with?"

"Me?" Emily blinked, not quite getting it, "Because I'm your engine?"

"Exactly. No one would've believed a word we said on the job because we're YOUR crew, and anything WE could've said in YOUR defense would've only been taken as desperation to get YOU out of trouble."

Daniel nodded, "It wouldn't have made a difference. In fact, WE might've gotten into trouble right along with you." He sighed, looking at his partner, "Maybe we should've taken a fall?"

His partner hummed thoughtfully, "Perhaps..."

"No." Emily shook herself negatively, putting it together, "You're right. It wouldn't have made a difference. There...there really was no point in saying anything, so I can't ask you guys to risk your jobs for me."

Mick walked up and patted her buffers comfortingly, "If Thomas had stuck up for you, though, THEN it would've been MUCH different with another well-known engine backing you up." He paused, "...Because you haven't really had a good reputation in those yards for awhile..."

Groaning, he put a finger to his temple, "Emily, I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you: The only reason you ultimately ended up getting punished today was because of the social grave you've dug for yourself."

"Social grave?" She blinked.

"Don't start to act like you don't know what we're talking about, not now. You've changed, lassie." Daniel explained, "You may still go and get your coaches from Knapford nearly every day of the week, but the reason Rosie is so much more charismatic with the workmen there is because she's a NICER and MORE-REPUTABLE engine."

Emily's eyes dulled even more with sadness, indeed already knowing the hard and full truth of what her fellow Scot was saying, "Oh…."

Mick looked at her pointedly, "Emily, before we came to Sodor and for the first year or so afterwards, you were among the nicest engines that anyone could ever meet. You were kind, motherly, SISTERLY, and before tonight, no one- NO ONE, not even us- had known that raw anger even EXISTED in your emotional dictionary. It seemed just that impossible. Yard managers, workmen, and especially Sir Topham Hatt all looked at you as a pride of the railway they worked for."

Daniel held up his hands, as if framing a newspaper headline, "Introducing Emily: Sodor's resident GNR Stirling Single Tender locomotive. Beautiful in both looks and personality."

"I think that actually WAS something of a headline at one point..." The driver commented.

"It was. It was the day after that one article was printed in the same section about Thomas's new 'ninety days without an accident' record."

"Oh yeah." He thought for a second, "I forgot Leo showed me that, actually."

"Not surprising, since it went back to zero the next day."

Despite herself, Emily allowed herself a small half-smile at hearing about the antics, but when the mental image of the blue tank engine performing them came to her, she frowned when she remembered their argument at the Steamworks as well as the events both preceding and following it.

Mick got back on the important track, "But anyway, it was completely true. You really did work hard and build yourself a good reputation with the foundation you were given. And that's just with work alone. With friends, there were few- VERY FEW, who shall not be named- who disliked you. You were approachable, you were helpful, and as another CERTAIN someone said (Emily cringed at that), you were an optimist. You could take a joke and even pulled some fast ones yourself. Even 'Arry and Bert had some respect for you- The scrapyard devils themselves! And Thomas and Percy? They could look at you like a big sister and Thomas actually called you his best friend." Taking a moment, he climbed up onto her buffer bar again and poked her forehead for emphasis, "BEST. FRIEND. Before you, Percy was the only one who held that title to him- at least officially. Even before you officially earned it, though, you three had become an inseparable trio- two brothers and their sister. You guys and others were all a real FAMILY, Em."

"But now…" He paused, not wanting to continue on the dark part, but he knew that he had to, "Now...because of..what happened...you've let it get to you so much that you've let yourself almost completely flip, become an engine NO ONE wants to be associated with. I don't fanatically believe in that whole 'honor and dishonor on your entire family and all your cattle' stuff, but there are a lot of people here who do to some degree. It shows with the fact that workmen no longer want to hold a conversation with you like they used to because of how rude and impatient you are with them. When you yell at them to hurry up in coupling you to your coaches, clearing the lines of debris, all of that, the only thing you'll get is polite formalities and inner resentment from them. Aside from us, the only humans you treat with respect most of the time are Sir Topham Hatt and our passengers." Mick shook his head, "That's just the situation among our bipedal race, though. You know: Homo sapiens, humanitas, daonnachd-"

"Human beings. I get it, Mick." She huffed, rolling her eyes, "You're talking about my treatment of people just in your guys' species. I'm not stupid."

"Wasn't trying to say you were, girl, just wanted to make sure I was being clear," He shrugged, "because among engines- your OWN species, your OWN kind- it's much, much worse. Where you used to have endless amounts of it, now there's no respect at all- absolutely NONE- for the others you actually share this railway with on a daily basis: You're rude, mocking, and even overly-critical of everyone else that you called a friend before."

"Percy and Toby at the castle, all because you'd thought being a queen would be nice and you could boss them around like servants. Even your new form of play was hurtful." Daniel counted on his fingers, "There was also Molly on her first day, though I think it's best we don't relive THAT one too much. Then there was telling Thomas what to do- which, I might say, was a perfect example of trust lost from one day to the next- and inadvertently getting him into both danger and trouble with Sir Topham Hatt. My favorite example, however, was after that storm when you rudely whistled and snapped at everyone who was trying to clear the line for you. Thomas had to set you straight, and you listened then, but- surprise, surprise- he was the NEXT victim, at Knapford Sheds when he needed a place to stay. Come to think of it…" He counted off his fingers, looking up in thought, "Branch line...snowplough...shed...the milk delivery...Yeah, I think Thomas has suffered you the MOST, actually."

"He has?" Mick whistled in surprise, thinking back and realizing his partner was not kidding, "Yikes…I think that's right..." But then again, it adds a bit more clarity into why he was behaving the way he was the other night...AND why he sided with Rosie. He shook his head, Talk about the sweet smell of revenge….

Deep in his mind, however, something felt out of place with that line of thought. It honestly felt like there was something missing, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was exactly.

Emily, for her part, just looked down at her buffers again and winced at the cold hard truth she was being presented- truth which she of course already knew very well. Mick pushed his thoughts aside and waved his hand in her field of vision, prompting her to look up again, "Long story short, you went from rebuking him and Percy for hurting Salty's feelings to hurting almost everyone else, mainly their pride. Thomas is- WAS- constant, alright, but it seems what you say you value him for is not how you actually treat him, is it, girl?"

He frowned, that incomplete feeling hitting him again, Darn it, what the heck even is that? Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something whenever I talk about Thomas?"

"No…" Emily hated it, admitting that she was in the wrong on something, a hypocrite, but in this case the evidence was stacked too high against her. It only led to one conclusion as her eyes filled with tears. She sniffed, trying her hardest not to break down into a sobbing mess like she nearly did back at the yards, "...I'm a jerk."

Both men looked at her sadly.

"A jerk...a lousy friend...alone…" Her lip quivered, her voice becoming more and more strained as the words tried to come out while she instinctively forced them back with less and less success, "I really AM nothing now...nothing but a...a…"

The last part was whispered, so quiet the men could barely hear it: "...A bossy boiler."

"That about sums up how you've changed, yes." Daniel nodded.

She grit her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as more tears began to fall, rolling down her cheeks, "I didn't ask for it, though…I didn't WANT it…" She sniffed again, "I never wanted it at all, not any of this, and I HATE it...I HATE IT!" She wasn't screaming, but her crew still took a step back from the force in it as she continued, "It's all because of...THEM!" She took a deep breath, trying desperately to recompose herself without much success, "They were monsters, and...and…and now...now I'M a monster…."

"You're not a monster, Emily. You're bossy, but not EVIL." Her fireman shook his head, sighing as he realized he was now going against his own fearful behavior from earlier, when they had seen her in the Vexation Trance, "If you were really evil, you wouldn't be feeling like this about it- not even alone with just us. The real monster here is whatever demon possessed other engines to hurt you, to keep hurting you, and it seems…"

Mick nodded in agreement, "It seems that Thomas has finally- FINALLY- reached his limit with that demon, and the only likely embodiment of it that he knows of is you, not James or anyone else. You're responsible for what you've done to him, and he's quickly getting to the point where it doesn't matter who's really in the wrong or who started it, only that you're the one who pays the price for him being the victim. I honestly think Rosie's starting to get that way too."

"That's not fair, though!" She cried.

"Why isn't it fair, Emily?"

Why?" She whimpered, "It's because...Thomas and Rosie, they don't even understand. If they knew what...if they...they..." Her eyes snapped wide open at her own words, "They...they don't know…"

"Exactly. No one knows what happened to you, Em. No one but us and the conspirators." Mick wiped her eyes, "You haven't told anyone. But-"

"Mick, please," Emily looked at him, equal parts serious and afraid, "PLEASE don't tell me you're going to tell Sir Topham Hatt. He can't know." She gulped, thinking about the consequences, "He can't…."

"Don't worry. Daniel and I won't say anything to him."

"I still think Mick's being a bit dramatic about the effects it'll have, but I will admit," The fireman seconded, "telling him the details will bring more trouble than it's worth, especially with everything as chaotic as it is for us right now. On or off duty, all three of us are on thin ice with the railway higher-ups after today. None of us can take something like...well...THAT at the moment."

"He's right, so as always, we're with you to the end, Emily, and we're gonna keep that vow of silence we made for as long as you want us to." Mick concluded, "But...after seeing that look you had tonight, well...it wasn't you. So...I hate to say this, but it only further proves what Daniel was saying a few minutes ago as well: With everything that's going on now, and with how much worse this situation might get, we ALSO can't stay completely silent on this anymore. Not even leaving you to cool off in here helped tonight- and we all know well how it actually used to work."

"So, then…?" Emily didn't like where this was going, but she had promised them she'd listen first.

He sighed, kneeling down so that she couldn't avoid his gaze so easily, "Emily, you HAVE to tell somebody what happened- the whole story, all of it."

"What? All of it?..." She grimaced, "No. No, I-I can't."

"You have to. It doesn't have to be Sir Topham Hart, it can be-"

"I CAN'T, Mick." She shook herself, again just slightly so she wouldn't throw him off, a look of fear in her eyes, "Even if I WANTED to relive those particular memories in full for a single waking moment, no one- especially any of the other engines- will believe a word I say. You said it yourself. And just like today with Rosie...THEY will deny it. I'll be branded worse than not listening. I'll be labeled a liar, a tattletale..." She sighed, "Henry, Edward, Toby and Mavis, Oliver and Duck, none of them will listen…" She scowled, "I made sure of that..."

Daniel rubbed his chin for a second, then snapped his fingers, "Last I checked, I think Molly forgave you for making her first day a nightmare. You keep brushing her off, but she's still trying to approach you to this day. Maybe you can tell her? Make amends?"

Emily considered it, but again shook herself, "I told you both this before: James is too close to her, and...I could see it in her eyes." She thought about the affectionate glances the yellow engine had given that red monster in passing, affection she knew all too well, "She likes him, and I mean, she LIKES him. He never wronged her, but I have, so it'll still be my word against his, and if I say anything against him, he might easily get her to think...I honestly don't know. That I'm jealous? That I'm just trying to take something special away from her by making him look bad? Either way…" The next words stuck, having never been spoken before, "even though I actually WANT to fix things with her, I really can't trust Molly to know anyway, not after how I made fun of her. If not James, then it's the fun I poked at her that's enough for her to justify using my own problems against me, maybe even in a completely unrelated fashion for some completely unrelated reason. Blackmail, sabotage, things like that." She closed her eyes, "If there's one thing I know from today, it's that even kind engines can be cruel like that...given the right motivation..."

Can't really argue that, especially with what Rosie said after she got off the turntable. Her driver sighed, When she said...what was it?

The words they had heard from the pink engine slowly returned to his mind: "You'd think that being trapped on a broken turntable would give you a change of attitude…"

Even if it WAS true, it was still unnecessarily harsh on Rosie's part even if she didn't know the Stirling's predicament. Even THOMAS seemed like he wanted her to shut it right then. But then, of course, Rosie had to point out that he'd done the same thi-

Mick's mind stopped there, dead in the water, as he suddenly stiffened.

"Mick?" Daniel and Emily noticed his behavior, "What's wrong?"

Wait a minute… He wracked his mind, going over the tank engines' words that morning again in detail. He then thought back further, to when Thomas...at the Steamworks and…Knapford..., No...that can't be….can it?

"Mick…?" Emily gulped. Her driver was practically oozing a chilled aura that made her shiver.

"Emily," Mick slowly made a rewind gesture with his finger, "repeat that last part. What did you just say?"

"I said that even kind engines can-"

"Nono, before THAT." He shook his head, "What do you think Molly would do if you told her about everything that happened, most likely?"

"I said she'd probably use my own problems against me for some completely unrelated reason."

"You mean...you think she'll react in a similar way," Mick slowly looked her in the eye, "to how Thomas said he used that night run to prove a point about how you criticized his passenger runs and him talking to children during work?"

"Yes?" Emily blinked, confused, "I suppose..."

"And ALSO in a similar way to how Rosie put you in the bad light back at Knapford?"

Emily blinked, but she nodded, "I guess so…?"

"Come to think of it," He tapped his chin, looking at Daniel who'd mentioned it earlier, "You were right: James said he'd also been trapped on a turntable and forced to do some roundabouts."

The way that both engine and fireman shared a quick, puzzled glance (complete with raised eyebrows and possible silent communication over whether or not he had been drinking on the job that day) before looking back at him would've been hilarious if he actually wasn't trying to lead up to a point that was serious. After a second, the Stirling carefully nodded again in affirmation, "Yeah...he DID mention that." She shook herself, "I obviously didn't care to hear the details, though."

"So you don't know how it happened?"

"No."

"That's still okay, because I think I can make an educated guess." He tapped his forehead, "In my experience as a railway worker, the only thing that would cause a turntable to spin out-of-control like then and today would be a strong wind."

"Strong wind…?" Emily doubted it at first, but then remembered the sounds of the wind from that morning, "I guess that sounds about right. The wind DID pick up and spin me while I was stranded."

"Even then, however, Knapford's turntable should've been more resistant to wind than what it was. The coach shed is surrounded by buildings that would protect from the elements quite a bit, not to mention the forest outside of town that would already have partially done the job, hence why it's one of the sturdiest places for anyone to take shelter during storms. That means that shed's table would have to be VERY sensitive in order for wind to affect it- especially with an engine on it."

Daniel shrugged, annoyed, "Well, of COURSE it wasn't resistant to the windstorm this morning. We all found out the hard way that the turntable was broken."

"BUT we didn't know how broken because Rosie said it was safe for all engines to roll onto, and WHERE did Rosie give us that message?" Mick looked pointedly at the fireman.

"Outside of the Steamworks, when we were leaving from visiting...Thomas…" Daniel's eyes widened, "And Thomas was…the one who broke the turntable in the first place."

"And WHO witnessed him break it? In fact, who was the FIRST engine to go out of their way to let us all know at TIDMOUTH about what happened in KNAPFORD?" Mick asked, rhetorically,

"Rosie…" Emily whispered, her eyes also widening as she began to understand, "She told us. She even seemed to know that's why Sir Topham Hatt called us back home."

"Now...here's another good question." Mick scowled, "After the night run, where did Thomas sleep the other night? Because he sure as heck didn't come back to Tidmouth, as far as I know."

"T-There ARE a lot of sheds on Sodor." Emily reasoned, stuttering, "Maybe it's just a coincidence, maybe Rosie just so happened to witness it and...it's...it's all just a fluke." She gulped, "Isn't it?"

"What about the reason she was even arriving at the Steamworks, just as we were leaving?"

The Stirling leveled a glare at him, "Even if she was there to visit like we were, her being there to see Thomas wouldn't mean anything."

"No? Then answer me this, Emily." He looked her in the eye, "None of us told ANYONE anything about what happened between you and Thomas the other night, so how did Rosie find out?" He held up a hand as she opened her mouth, "And before you suggest that she just might've seen it from a distance, which she could have…" He inhaled deeply, then dropped the bomb, "explain how and why Rosie the Tank Engine, one of Sodor's other nicest engines and biggest GOSSIPS, both sided against you AND didn't tell everyone what Thomas did herself, when anyone could see that what he had done was uncalled for?" He looked at her, "If the fact that she just so happened to be a witness to him both that night and for the turntable isn't enough, why did she look at you and say, 'Or so I heard' as if you would've lied- INSTEAD of calling him out for nearly leaving his passengers behind?"

Emily's nervous expression slowly morphed into one of shock, not of awe but of the sort someone might have if someone else had walked up and slapped them. There was a hint of denial in there too, but beneath his feet he could feel her start to lightly tremble. For a long moment, all three were silent as these connections sank in.

"No….Oh no, no, no..." Daniel slowly shook his head, "You don't think…?"

"I DO think, especially considering the fact," That one absent thought from before finally crawled its way into his brain, "that unlike Thomas, Rosie suffered none of the major incidents from Emily that we mentioned. Compared to everyone else, she doesn't even know Emily that well on a personal level, either. No incidents, little experience, so even less justification than Thomas to-"

"No!" Emily shouted, starting to panic, "No..no...it HAS to be-! It can't be-! It can't be...THAT!"

"It can be, it most likely is," Daniel tore his hat off and furiously threw it to the ground, "and it TICKS ME OFF!" Seeing Emily cringe, he quickly calmed himself, but his own anger remained, "How did we not see this before!? This can only mean it wasn't..."

"The night run, the turntable, NOW it makes sense." Mick agreed, in a more subdued tone of voice, "These things, these...events weren't random...circumstances where Thomas and Rosie just took advantage of them."

He placed a finger to his temple, "They were PLANNED."

"So that's what's REALLY going on, then? A stratagem." The fireman muttered in disbelief, "A full-blown CONSPIRACY."

Conspiracy. The word left a very bitter taste in both Emily's mouth and soul- and unfortunately, it was one she had an extremely low tolerance for. Sure enough, her slight trembling increased to become even more obvious. That was the outside effect, though. On the inside, in her mind, Emily's mind flashed to...all of it. The whole story…

The whole reason.

She banished the thoughts- the flashbacks- but the parallels were still unmistakable.

"It's happening again…." She whispered, tears welling up, "but instead of-" She gulped down a sob, "It's Rosie and….Thomas…" She squeezed her eyes shut, "No...please, no...anything but that again…I'll take anything...I'll SUFFER anything, but...not Thomas…." Her tears started to fall, "...not Thomas...It can't be true, Mick, it…" She choked back a sob.

"I don't WANT to believe it either, honestly, but…" Mick looked at her, dismayed, "Emily, I'm...I'm sorry, but now that we can see those pieces in place, I honestly think it is. It's hard to point them in any other direction." Stepping up, he wiped her eyes, "I really think Thomas is truly done with being your constant. What's worse...I think-"

"We BOTH think," Daniel cut in, with a defeated sigh, "he might very well be the leader."

"The leader…?" Emily whimpered.

"Yeah, considering the clues we have and just the...suddenness of it in the very least. On top of that, Rosie always did like to idolize him anyway, so given a good reason to turn on you in such an out of character fashion…well, no doubt she'd probably follow him through with it to the end."

"Why, though?" Emily wept. In her mind, images of Sodor's smiling number one flashed like photographs as mental recordings of their conversation at the Steamworks kept replaying over and over, "I told him-"

"You've told him a lot of things, made a few promises, but to be fair, you really haven't done a good job of keeping them lately." Daniel sighed, going behind her smokebox to sit down on her running board, "I guess he didn't believe you, or...something, which is probably why he managed to convince Rosie to help him instead of taking your word for it." He bowed his head, "This whole thing is just crazy, hard to swallow even. Engines striking back at you at random, THAT we expected, but a whole conspiracy and…" He trailed off, instead looking up at Mick, "...and that can only mean it might not even be just Thomas and Rosie, either. Who knows how many others are in on it with them. Thomas might be A leader, THE leader, there might be only be just them or a small group, THAT we don't know. Only its existence... the fact that it isn't ranom."

Mick nodded, caressing Emily's forehead to calm her as he tried to think.

"Even worse than that…" The fireman continued, "Today might not be anywhere near the last time we'll be subjected to whatever they're up to."

Emily whimpered, It'll happen...again?

It really WAS like…before. More humiliation and embarrassment, more engines against her- and, ultimately, more pain.

Emily clenched her eyes shut even more tightly, gritting her teeth, I can't take it...can't take it….please...this CAN'T be happening! She looked up to Heaven, PLEASE don't let it be happening!

"This is NOT good. This is not good AT ALL." Daniel glanced at her with sympathy, and then at his partner again, "What are we gonna do? They might be seriously planning on really, REALLY hurting her, Mick."

The driver frowned. He didn't know at all. He had been in a lot of trouble in both his young and middle-aged human life, but never had he experienced anything like this, not on the railway. Back in Scotland, he honestly had never thought steam engines could even act like this towards one another. Diesels, maybe, but not each other, particularly since living in a progressive world where you could be scrapped at any economic moment usually necessitated working together to survive rather than finding ways to ostracize your fellow coal-powered engines. But, lo and behold, that logic was shown to not take effect on Sodor, and it resulted in what had happened to Emily to begin with. This whole thing with Thomas and Rosie was different, though, even with the similarities, because Thomas had been their friend first. The threat of more pain from them coming his engine's way did not help matters, and combined with the lack of experience in dealing with this sort of thing among engines led to his mind coming up almost blank save for the recent memory of their previous, interrupted conversation.

Mick didn't like that one bit, but he knew he couldn't come up with something else at the moment, not until they knew more about the storm that was probably coming. He decided to trust his gut for Emily's sake- just so she wouldn't have to hear the words 'I have no idea' again.

"I say…" He closed his eyes and nodded, "I say we carry on."

"Carry on?"

"We stay the course and stick to our original plan."

"What?" Daniel blinked.

"What?" Emily's eyes snapped open.

The driver nodded, coming to a final decision, "Okay, so the situation is worse than what we thought it was, but you know what, the plan hasn't really changed all that much, not as of right now."

"It hasn't? But Mick-" Emily looked at him like he was insane.

"No buts." He asserted, "I know it's not what you two want to hear, but it's the only option I can think of. We don't know anything other than the fact that there are at least two engines- one of them a good friend- have teamed up against us and might chase after us again with some kind of stunt. Until we know more, finding someone to talk to is our only plan of action if we don't want to risk telling Sir Topham Hatt." He glanced at Emily, "In fact, this makes finding someone to trust with what happened a bit more difficult, but at the same time all the more vital. You're obviously holding in a lot, Emily, have a lot on your mind and nowhere to turn for help, so you need a better foothold to cling to than just us. I can't stress that enough. That means finding another engine to spill the beans to. If this...conspiracy or whatever it is continues, well...if nothing else, you'll at least be able to have someone who is on your side or else you'll just break down entirely. A solid foundation means a stable building."

"But who, Mick? WHO can I go to NOW?" Emily snapped, glaring at him through her tears, "There's no one, and this just proves it even more than a minute ago! Even Sir Topham Hatt could be in on it for all we know!" She looked away, "Who else do you think? Victor, Edward, Henry...Percy?" She shuddered at that last one, unable to picture the green tank engine actively plotting against her for her actions, "I can't trust ANYONE on Sodor, it seems. We're not going to find anybody, either. Pretty much everyone hates me, and if Rosie's any indication, even those who don't openly show it could be taking part. Literally anyone could be in on this whole thing, with…" She sighed, "with Thomas's REVENGE bullying, I guess you can call it..."

"Just breathe, girl," Mick told her, "and let's try to actually finish weighing our options first, like we were just doing, okay?"

Emily looked unsure.

"OKAY?" He asked, looking at her sternly, reminding her of her promise to cooperate with them.

"...Okay." Blinking a few times to dry her eyes a bit more, leaving them red and puffy but dried out a bit, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "Okay."

"Perfect. Now answer me this, girl: Is there really nobody?"

The female engine pondered long and hard, only give a single, slight bow forward in a nod, "I think so, yes."

"Okay, then let's make sure." Not about to give up that easily, he tapped his chin, "Are you certain about Percy?"

"Too close to Thomas. The two of them are like wheels attached to the same coupling rod." She muttered, "I can't picture it, but I still can't doubt the possibility he most likely IS involved. Heck, Thomas even said he was working with him this morning, which was why he was late."

"That's fair." Daniel agreed, "Edward?"

"Too close to Sir Topham Hatt, like Victor and Kevin. Enough said."

"What about Donald and Douglas?" Mick asked, then chuckled, "Heck, the two of them are even fellow Scots, so-"

"No. They won't listen, either. I saw Duck talking to them several months ago while we were waiting for that goods train at Dryaw, and judging by how the two of them started glaring at me, I'll give you three guesses as to who Duck was warning them about." The Stirling frowned at the mention of the Great Western engine, Duck being an engine whose respect was actually hard to lose for most engines, "Besides, they've both been scheduled to work on the mainland for the next several weeks, so they're not even on Sodor right now to hear it even if they wanted to."

"Wait, what? Wow...I actually had no idea about that thing with Duck. Did you, Mick?"

"No." The driver shook his head, surprised, "I didn't notice it. And Callum and Knox, Malcolm and Logan? None of them hinted at anything when we got together to play cards the other week. I think Duck was trying to keep that 'warning' about Emily between just the three of them."

"So there wouldn't be a hassle among the workers or us crewmen as they just started silently ostracizing her whenever they could." Daniel groaned. That was just like Duck on so many levels, separating wheat from the chaff subtly and without notice, "Well...on the positive side of things, it prevents Sir Topham Hatt from finding out based on fights between the six of us men and then...that whole apocalypse you mentioned coming to fruition by default. Duck never really did seem to like open confrontation and violence, after all."

"Yeah, but it's still two more engines we can't talk to now. Two more friends lost."

"They were already lost." The Stirling pointed out.

Mick rubbed his temple, "How about Henry?"

Emily considered the other green engine for a second, but then shook herself no, "He's just stopped talking to me altogether like most of everyone else."

"He's still not avoiding you as bad as some of the others are, though, and he might be willing to stop for a second and listen. After all, he isn't above reason and second chances."

"Maybe…" Emily knew that she and Henry had a few things in common and could see eye-to-eye on many things- or USED to, at least- but the truth was that even if he was neither going to brush her off like Duck and some others did nor tell Sir Topham Hatt, the strenuous jobs he did- including the late-night Flying Kipper- still left him tired and in need of a lot of rest. On top of that, despite not needing a lot of special coal anymore from what she had heard, he was still pretty sickly to boot. She wasn't about to add to his burden by telling him about her problems.

Especially since her problems were pretty much entirely centered around their home at Tidmouth in the first place.

She sighed, making a decision, "Henry's busy and tired enough as it is. He doesn't need to hear about more stress from me. I honestly can't bring myself to do that to him."

Daniel scratched his head, "We can't tell Sir Topham Hatt. We can't trust engines who are too close to James and them, and this entire conspiracy we've figured out." He groaned in frustration, sitting down on the grass next to the tracks and leaning his head back against the bottom edge of the Stirling's running boards, "The narrow-gauge engines?"

"There is no- NO- force in Heaven or on earth," She shot a dirty look at him, "that will make me confess anything within earshot of DUNCAN."

"Oh..."

"Duncan IS pretty nosy and boastful. Try to talk to Skarloey, Rheneas, Sir Handel, Rusty, or even Stepney at a whisper, and BOOM, he's probably going to hear about it, maybe even tell others" Mick rolled his eyes, "He's also got his own collection of black marks on his record, so he's probably one of the last engines we'd want to associate with right now."

Daniel facepalmed, "Yeah...forget I even suggested that. But with how tight-knit a community Sodor's railway is in general, that pretty much covers everyone trustworthy, you two." He paused, then raised a finger, "Wait, how about Tob-?"

"Toby, Mavis, AND Salty are both too close to either Thomas, Rosie, or one of the other ones who are in the same category. Toby is close to both him AND James." Emily deadpanned.

Slowly, her fireman lowered his hand. Thinking again resulted in his brain being completely void of ideas, and he sighed, "Are you SURE there's nobody you think you at least wanna RISK talking to, Em?"

Emily looked down, depressed, "I'm sure." She sniffed, "Unless you two can somehow come up with someone I haven't thought of."

Both men considered those words, continuing to think about any and all options they had and didn't have, which was unfortunately more the latter than the former at this point. Mick wracked his mind, It needs to be an engine. Emily's problem rests among the rest of them and they're the only ones who will fully understand the issue culturally. Besides, she doesn't personally know many humans aside us, some of the children, and perhaps just a few select others. He scowled, Oh come on, you braindead dolt, you seriously can't think of anything else either? There's gotta be! Yet...pretty much everyone's lost faith in her. He looked up to Heaven, Please God, just one spark of inspiration if all I ask. If You need us to go to Sir Topham Hatt after all...I suppose it's all we can do. But please, for her sake...

The driver was spiritual, but even with his strong faith, he knew better than to always expect immediate answers to his prayers as he continued to ponder everything going on for the millionth time that day. By that point, everything was so well-looked over that it was as beaten down as a dirt footpath was.

The other night, when Thomas made Emily look like a fool in front of the passengers by using her own words against her, which itself had seemed like just another "normal" day.

Their argument at the Steamworks the previous day, where Thomas had (admittedly very well) justified why he had done it. That one stuck with him the most, especially when they saw the look on his face as Emily left him with those words about his cheekiness being a threat to the railway- words that she wouldn't have uttered or even pretended to believe a few years before. She had pretty much called him immature and even weak, and at the time, both Mick and Daniel had actually felt sympathy for the tank engine.

But then twelve or so hours had passed, leading them to that morning: Rosie insisting that she get Emily's coaches for her, no doubt to goad Emily into taking the bait; Emily getting trapped on the turntable and spun until she was long past nauseous and dizzy; Thomas arriving after it was over, giving a hypocritical excuse over why he was late and (undoubtedly) acting surprised while Rosie made Emily look like an idiot; Thomas shutting her up and asking-

Hold the phone. His eyes lit up, Thomas...actually asked Emily if she was alright. He even seemed concerned. He frowned, That doesn't fit, not with everything else. He made Emily look like a fool, and if he's really leading this, then he would've proceeded to break the turntable on purpose, knowing what was gonna happen.

And yet, Thomas hadn't verbally gone after her like his fellow tank engine had. He had sided with Rosie, but instead of accusing Emily, he had simply played like the message sounded right and then expressed concern- a much different attitude, unlike before the night run.

I wonder why that was. Mick scratched his chin, He and Emily didn't talk again that we know of. In fact, the last time we talked to him was at the Steamworks, and…oh boy...what did he say to Emily? He asked...what changed? Yeah, that's it! He asked why Emily seemed to hate his pranks instead of actually playing along like she used to. He almost seemed...nostalgic...like he wanted those days back…

Wait a second...nostalgia? The cogs in his head started to turn faster, Rosie mentioned a change of attitude, but she wouldn't have known Emily's personality before any of this. She arrived months after the fact. That's the sign that she and Thomas are working together, but…'you'd think'? It's almost as if Rosie was hoping for Emily's attitude to change after she got off the turntable, almost like she was angry and disappointed..or acting like it, and yet...Thomas shut her down before she could get too far into it.

He looked next to him at Emily's face, still downtrodden, Thomas obviously was trying to make sure we didn't figure anything out, but...come to think of it, what exactly ARE they doing this for?

Rosie mentioned a change of attitude.

Thomas showed nostalgia for the good old days.

Both seemed to possess knowledge- possibly from Thomas- of what Emily was like before. And yet, they humiliated Emily, because…because…

Because they hate how she changed, The Scotsman realized, his eyes widening, and they want the old her back. And if Thomas really is leading the charge…then that really means HE wants the old her back more than anything. And Emily...

He smiled, looking up into the darkened sky with a thankful gaze. Maybe some prayers were instant, after all, Maybe...just maybe...we're looking at this conspiracy wrong. Maybe...it's NOT a copy and paste of before...

This was only a theory, though. There was only one way to find out if it was true...

"Daniel," He looked down at where his partner sat, "could I talk to you for a second." He looked at his engine, "Could you excuse us, Emily?"

"Sure?" She blinked, watching as the two men both got their feet on the ground and walked away a few meters. Once they were out of earshot, her driver leaned in really close and began to whisper to her fireman. Even though the emerald engine couldn't hear what they were saying, she still observed their facial reactions to try and guess what they could've been talking about.

After a minute, she felt her anxiety rise just a few levels when she saw Daniel's face change to a dumbfounded expression.

Then, as Mick continued talking, his mouth widened into a grin.

Oh boy… Emily gulped, watching as the men then began to whisper back and forth to one another, glancing at her every now and again in the process. She loved them both dearly, but she knew very well that when her fireman smiled like that, one or both men could easily become the devils on her piston- which meant that if her driver had come up with an answer for their current predicament, it was NOT going to be one she liked.

Finally, they nodded to one another and came back over to her. Standing in front of her, yet another moment of silence passed as they looked at her.

Emily looked back and forth between them, "Well?"

"Emily," Mick began slowly, "I think- I don't know for sure- but I THINK there's actually one option we have for you."

"Really?" Emily didn't want to get ahead of herself and start hoping, but she couldn't keep it from coming into her voice a little bit, "What is it?"

"Well...that depends on a few things. For starters, you mentioned that you can't tell Molly because she's too close to James, and that makes perfect sense." Her driver continued, "It also makes sense why you wouldn't tell Percy, Edward, Henry, all of them, but…" He shared a look with Daniel, "while you mentioned that Percy is too close to Thomas, I have to ask you something: Before any of this happened, is there any reason why you didn't want to tell him and Thomas anything about what happened in the first place?"

"I…" Emily pondered that one for a second, but for the life of her couldn't come up with an answer. She had never actually had to consider it before, yet she thought back to just a full week prior when things were a bit more normalized (normal considering her change, of course) and she realized her driver was once again correct, Why DIDN'T I ever try to tell Thomas and Percy? Because I didn't want them involved? She sighed bitterly, Yeah right...they're involved anyway...against ME. It's not like I was trying to sacrifice myself to protect them like in some sort of movie. Maybe…yes. Yes, that's right...

She looked at Mick, "I guess...it was probably because I didn't trust them to know. Not like the way I wouldn't trust Molly to know, but...I wouldn't want them...doing anything."

"Anything like what?" Her driver asked, raising an eyebrow.

"...Defending me or...copying me." She deeply felt like a hypocrite as she said it, "Percy and Thomas...they're my best friends and...I love them both, but they- no, ALL of us- tend to be hotheaded at times. I mean, remember when we were struggling to help get the airport built? The total bashing and biffing war that Diesel and Thomas started on that one day? Diesel covered Thomas in paint, but Thomas got so mad he instead took it out on the first diesel he saw, which was 'Arry. I don't like him or Bert much either, but...Thomas took his anger out on someone who wasn't even involved."

"Not to mention the fact that the diesels didn't particularly come after you and Percy, either, and yet you two hit a couple of them pretty hard yourselves." Daniel actually chuckled, remembering how the Stirling had snuck up on Diesel and attacked from behind.

"Yes, but it only proves my point of how we were quick to follow Thomas's lead because we were all mad at most of the diesels." She told him, "On top of that...Henry also once told me about a time when Cranky was knocked over in a storm. Thomas and Percy helped him, but when Cranky offended them for being tank engines, Percy acted too quickly and accidentally pulled him over again."

"'Accidentally'?" Mick mouthed in disbelief, remembering hearing that story from James' crew back when they were on…TOLERABLE terms, but not with such a forgiving word, If that was an 'accident', what exactly have those two done that was intentional? He paused, Nope. Not going to think about that right now. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, as they say….

"Both of them acted rashly, just like…" She sighed, "just like me." A flashback filled her eyes, "Thomas was right. I'm- I WAS cheeky, I DID have fun with his jokes, even pulled a few of my own before this whole nightmare got worse and worse." She looked down, "I guess I was afraid of telling Thomas and Percy because...I didn't know how they would react. Would they follow my lead and become bossy themselves? Would they start a war among us steam engines just to get back at…" Her nose scrunched in disgust, "I don't know, and I guess I really didn't want to find out or make things worse. I suppose I thought it was better to...suffer in silence, defend myself on my own."

"Not so silent anymore," Daniel muttered, "and not so defensive either."

"I know, but...you asked and that's all I can really say."

"So...you think you were afraid to tell them at first…" Mick repeated her main points to clarify, "because you were afraid they would actually make things worse for you? For themselves? You wanted to keep quiet, keep things on the down-low, just so that things might die down?"

Emily thought for a moment, then nodded, "Every time I think it's over and try to go back to...myself, the whole nightmare just started all over again. THEY just started all over again. I guess...I guess I just stopped trying and…" She looked back at herself, from tender to cab, "look where I am now. In a siding with only you two for company, with a shed of former friends and current enemies being the only other thing waiting for me when we leave."

"Tell me something, Em, do you regret letting yourself change like that?"

"Mick, I've regretted a lot. Regretting things seems to be the ONLY thing I'm good for right now. I have no friends, no reputation, I've been made to feel utterly worthless in every way, I've been humiliated two times now, and not a moment goes by where I actually just want to break down into a sobbing mess and just give up." She scowled, "I want things to just be normal again, I want Tidmouth to just be my HOME, with friends- FAMILY- and though I never told Thomas anything, I always thought that with him as a constant, I'd have a chance. I abused that chance, though, and if he's conspiring against me now, then it seems that things going back to normal is impossible." She groaned, "I was sent here to Sodor, promised a better life, but when I try to embrace it, I'm instead hit hard where it hurts the most and the only solution was to…be a new Emily. Now I'm stuck like this, with a gang of who knows how many other engines- led by my former BEST FRIEND- coming after me. Forgive me for being pessimistic, but who knows: In order to fight back, I might have to stay this way forever."

"I doubt that." Mick smiled.

"Oh really?" She huffed at her driver.

"Yep." Daniel nodded, "Emily, we have a feeling that what you want isn't as impossible to get back as you think."

"How so? According to you two, the best place to start is finding someone to talk to, but we just went over pretty much everyone we can think of- not that it wasn't very many to begin with." She rolled her eyes, defeated, "Face it, you two, it's hopeless. So again, I ask: Who could you possibly have in mind that would be able to actually help make all of this go away?"

"And again, that depends: What are your criteria?" Daniel countered.

"Criteria?"

"You told us why you couldn't tell your own best friends before, so just so we can be sure," Mick reasoned, "what kind of engine DO you see yourself talking to, sharing all of this with?"

The emerald engine never hesitated, "It would have to be someone I trust deeply, but also someone who won't talk to Sir Topham Hatt like Edward or make fun of me behind my back. They'd also have to be an engine who will know I'm being honest and...not listen to any gossip or warnings like Donald and Douglas listened to Duck."

"Anything else?"

Emily thought of Henry, "They'd also have to be someone who has the time and energy to put up with me, with all of this, in the first place."

Her driver grinned as if he'd won a lottery, "Well then, Emily, what Danny and I have is the PERFECT engine for you to talk to after all."

Daniel shared his enthusiasm, "AND it's also someone you haven't considered yet."

"I doubt both of those things," She stared at him sadly, and also a little impatient with how much they were leading into it, "but alright, enough delay. Who is it?"

The two glanced at each other, and then back at her before then simultaneously uttering just one name:

"Thomas."

"..."

"..."

"..."

In the long period of silence that followed, the two humans and the engine simply stared at each other, the latter with a blank expression while the former were both smiling wide with expectation.

Finally, speaking slowly, the Stirling broke the silence after what seemed like half an hour, "I'm...very sorry, you two, but...come again? I could've sworn you just said that the engine I should talk to is THOMAS."

"We DID say that, Em." Mick nodded.

"Thomas, as in my best friend….?"

"Yep!" Daniel affirmed.

Emily frowned, cross, "BUT who is RIGHT NOW the tank engine most likely leading a conspiracy against me with who knows how many other engines to prove who knows what exactly? The biggest problem on all our minds? THAT Thomas?"

"There's only one of him on Sodor." Her fireman nodded.

Emily inhaled deeply, closing her eyes meditatively, then slowly let out an exhale, "Mick, since you're obviously the one who came up with it first, could I ask you a question?"

"Go right ahead." He nodded.

Her eyes snapping open, Emily rolled up until she was looking down the bridge of her nose at him, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?"

Mick wanted to say her screaming at him had no effect, but the truth was it still made his ears ring as he stood his ground, "Not that I know of. Last I checked, I was clinically sane.

"Well, you need a re-evaluation, because I can write a BOOK," The emerald engine growled, "about all the ways in which that is the WORST idea in the history of bad ideas- and trust me, I've heard about some terrible ones."

"'Write a book,' she says…" Daniel muttered, shaking his head, "Emily, you don't even have HANDS."

"Not LITERALLY, you-! I KNOW I can't-! Ugh...nevermind." She turned her glare back onto Mick, "No. It's not happening."

He facepalmed, "Emily, will you PLEASE just hear us out before saying that so quickly?"

"Not if it's not helpful in the slightest!"

"You don't even know WHY we're suggesting it. Besides, we did mention rethinking our approach, didn't we?"

"And what happened to collaborating with us, hearing us out?" Daniel put in.

Emily paused with reluctant consideration before she then backed off. Her irritation remained, however, "Okay, fine, since you two obviously forgot our main issue here: Why should I tell Thomas, of all engines? Even before it got this bad, I already mentioned why I wouldn't tell him and Percy. Now, for all it's worth, he's made himself an ENEMY. He WANTS to be my enemy. It's like you said about him being done with acting as my constant. He's even leading the charge, for goodness sakes, at least from what we've gathered so far. She looked away sadly, "Yeah, he used to fit the criteria and maybe if I could I would go back and tell him regardless, but...he hates me now."

"The key word in all of that," Her driver said, "is 'now'. Thomas hates you NOW."

She raised an eyebrow, "I don't follow…"

"Emily, after you got off the table and got your coaches, what did Thomas do?"

"He…" Emily thought about it, "He...asked me if I was okay?"

"Good. What else?"

"I don't know." She shook herself, unable to recall Thomas doing anything else, "All I can really think of is him siding with Rosie."

"Look between the lines: When Rosie was talking smack, did he join in? No, he asked if you were okay, and THEN told her to be quiet. In fact, unlike the other night," Daniel spoke up, "I actually can't recall a single second of this morning where he was actually hostile against you. Sided with Rosie, maybe, but no hostility towards you like what she treated you with."

"And yesterday, at the Steamworks." Mick nodded, "Before you left...he brought up the time he hid everyone's freight cars around the yard, but in the end, he wasn't actually trying to only justify his actions, not at that moment."

He reached up and laid a hand on her buffer beam, "At the end, he actually wanted to know why you were so angry with him that day compared to then."

Emily's eyes grew large as she remembered the conversation, especially Thomas's final question to her: "What's so different about this prank and accident that you suddenly treat it like a bane on your existence?"

And her answer: "I'm honestly surprised that Sir Topham Hatt hasn't started punishing you in the worst ways imaginable…"

She winced. That...she had said a lot of questionable things in the past- or rather, the RECENT past- but there was no question that that response had been simply MEAN. In fact, Emily knew very well that if she went over every last word of what she'd said to the blue number one, she would of course find more offensive than defensive words whereas she could see the opposite in Thomas's.

Especially her own last words to Thomas as she was leaving: "It would probably get done a lot faster if we also SHARED some of the privileges we have with one another, wouldn't it?"

That had especially hurt Thomas, she could see that clearly, but she couldn't help but admit that it hurt her too to bring up Annie and Clarabel like that. At the time, it had been automatic, intended to keep her from showing weakness where..THEY might've seen it- exactly like clockwork- but if there was one thing Emily had always hated, it was hypocrisy. Absolute remorse flooded her boiler like murky water, knowing very well that she was protective of her coaches as well, especially if her conversation with Rosie before that morning's incident was any indication of it.

Out of the two of them, Emily had been the hostile one for the past couple of days, not Thomas.

And out of the past SEVERAL days alone, including the other night with the passengers, Thomas's hostility towards her was a small annoying smudge compared to everything she had said to him.

"Emily," Mick got her attention, "I'll ask again: Do you REALLY want to change? Go back to being...you?"

"More than anything. You guys both know that." She answered, wondering how many times they were going to make her admit it.

"Well, if I'm interpreting his actions and words right," He shrugged, "so does Thomas. Maybe this isn't a conspiracy to just...attack you or make you look like you're a fool. Maybe...and this is still a big maybe...but maybe Thomas is doing this to show you that he feels the same way as you do about yourself. Maybe he hates who you are now, and wants who you used to be."

Emily huffed, scowling, "Is doing similar to what caused me to turn into THIS in the first place really his way of saying that. Why couldn't he-" She stopped herself right there, her words to Thomas still stuck in her mind as an answer, I guess he couldn't just come up and tell me…

Thomas wanting the same thing that she did was…she supposed it was a somewhat-reasonable justification for his and Rosie's behavior, but at the same time, Emily wasn't sure if she was ready to trust that theory. For all she knew, Thomas probably gave up all nostalgia after the Steamworks- and that was assuming nostalgia was even a factor. Telling him, if they were wrong, would most likely lead to the same results she feared from Molly- maybe even worse.

And in her experience, 'maybes' were always dangerous. You could never count on them, especially if there were a lot of them present. It was like a child staying up late after hearing a certain weather report, only to find out he still had school the very next day. The Stirling had trusted maybes far too many times for her liking.

Now, she couldn't trust them as far as she could biff them.

Seeing her trepidation, Mick smiled encouragingly, "We can't say we empathize, Emily, but we can say we understand how it feels. For all we know, even with the evidence looking us in the face, there's the slight chance we might even be looking too deep into it and there is no conspiracy at all, much less Thomas doing it because he wants the old you back. We could be wrong about everything." He shared a nod with Daniel, "But, in the end, don't you think he at least deserves some closure on YOUR behavior towards HIM? After all, like we said, he HAS suffered you and your changed attitude the most."

"But...what if he…?"

"IF he uses it against you, then it's his loss. If he thinks that he still has the right to keep hurting you like this, then obviously he wasn't a real friend to you in the first place. And…" Daniel trailed off, looking at Mick, "You tell her."

"Emily, another reason we want to suggest Thomas was because…you lost your reputation, a lot of what you built. In retrospect, though, a lot of your success...a lot of what you have now…" Her driver shrugged, "It was because of Thomas that you have- HAD- all of it. On your first day, you accidentally took his coaches, but that means he was the one sent to retrieve and help gift you your own. He was the one who encouraged you to do the Black Loch Run, despite how afraid you were, and now it's your favorite route along with working alongside him on his branch-line. On top of that, the time you and him spent together with Percy, all of you being cheeky to a point, having best friends like them gave you a way to express yourself and earn the respect of the workmen and most of the other engines in the first place- not to mention times such as when you rightfully scolded them for making fun of Salty-"

Daniel cleared his throat, and when Mick turned to look at his partner, the fireman gestured towards something off to his left. Following his gaze, the driver's eyes landed on the gleaming silver of Emily's front buffer.

"There were also times you shared that were special for just between the two of you. That's including," Mick tapped the buffer, "these."

All resistance left the Stirling's face. Memories- not the bad ones- almost seemed to be flashing through her eyes like a car's headlights through a window.

Her coaches. Her friendships. Her favorite passenger route. All of it…

Emily looked down at her buffers.

She remembered very well that she had come to Sodor with bronze ones.

Finally, she sighed, Mick's right.

The female engine had to face it: No matter what she thought about regarding her life on Sodor, Thomas was always involved in some way, even after she had pushed him and Percy away so long ago. And no matter how much things continued, for better or for worse, that cheeky tank engine was most likely always going to be involved in her life somehow. On top of that, Thomas also fit the criteria of an engine she could speak with- perfectly, in fact, especially in regards to...putting up with her…

At least…that's a theory…. Emily knew that the weight of Thomas's actions and his alliance with Rosie were still reasons to be skeptical. But...if the blue engine was actually appearing to be the only option she truly had, then her driver and fireman were both right. She had to put in some effort to get this nightmare to end, and if that meant taking a big risk…

But what if he talks anyway, though? Tells someone or…? The Stirling gulped.

"Well, Emily?" Daniel asked.

She sighed, "I still don't know, you two. It's just...I know I have to take a risk, but at the same time I still can't trust anyone like Thomas to know about why I'm like this. All we have is a theory, All we know is that it's me versus him. It's a war." She looked up at the night sky, "And you know they say that all's fair in it. Thomas might actually be out to get me for no reason other than to hurt me, get revenge for how I treated him for so long now and make me feel that pain tenfold. How do I really know whether or not it's like that? And again, like you said, the evidence we have based on how Rosie acted might not be evidence at all. Even if I muster up the courage to be alone with and tell him, that's firing my only shot in the dark that either misses and he and Rosie use my own words against me- again- or it hits and he helps me." She frowned, "Everything is just so...confusing right now. I can't tell Thomas anything unless I can at least be sure I won't miss the shot. Even if it's not a bullseye, even if he won't help, the least I want to know is if he can keep it between us, but…" She groaned, "I don't know how."

"Well...you're not wrong." Mick frowned, "But...pulling the trigger IS the only way we'll know. To be sure without actually firing is impossible."

"Actually…" Daniel's eyes lit up, "I think it IS possible."

"Wait, what?" Mick looked at him, dumbfounded, "How?"

"Yeah, how?" She agreed.

Daniel turned and began to slowly pace as he continued to think deeply, "Em, you compared what's happening now to a war, and…you remember how my mind likes to wander from topic to topic?"

"All-too well." The female tender engine nodded, "You're one of several I know."

"Well, when you mentioned that bit about Thomas making himself the enemy and pulling triggers, I started thinking about my grandfather." He glanced at her, pointedly, "He fought in the Great War. Trench warfare, machine guns firing all around him, his fellow soldiers dying by the second. It was absolute hell, based on the stories he told me."

Emily blinked, just a little bit unnerved by the mental image she received from that, "I'm not sure what's happening here on Sodor is even as bad as THAT, but...go on."

"Well, there was one story in particular he always liked to go back and dwell on." Her fireman nodded to himself, "The Christmas Truce, when the soldiers in some areas left the trenches en masse and actually spoke to one another cheerfully in the no man's land. Sure, they went back to fighting each other's armies later, but at that moment, my grandfather always liked to tell how peaceful it was."

Emily gave a half-smile. "It really sounds like a cherished moment, at least for the soldiers in that part of the trench."

"It was. If there was any fighting or arguing during that time, it was the sort that you'd expect from between family, friends, and neighbors. There were football games, presents exchanged, laughter and chatter all around. It wasn't just playful, though. There were also burials and prisoner swaps, still plenty of serious business performed as well, so it's not like the war had entirely ended." He stopped pacing, "The way my grandfather experienced it, though, he told me that both sides in his zone were reluctant to speak to one another. They had looked at one another, guns raised, and were only willing to take part in the truce when both sides' commanding officers came out with their hands up. Only when they both agreed to the truce did they go out there." He looked pointedly at the emerald engine, "Is this starting to sound familiar? Like you, my grandfather's unit wasn't sure if they should try and talk directly to the German forces no matter how good of an opportunity they seemed to have. Unlike what you are saying with taking a chance, though," He spoke to the driver, "they had experienced bullet-storms quite enough to know they might've been killed if they took a shot in the dark and missed. Instead, they kept the rifles up until they were sure they didn't need to use them."

"So…?" Emily looked at him inquisitively.

"I'm saying that both sides were technically still enemies, but they agreed to meet in the middle for a short while on decent terms. That's why it was called the Christmas Truce and not the Christmas Cease-Fire, because it was just that: A TRUCE." He held up a finger, "You want a way to find out if Thomas can keep a secret? There you have it."

"A truce…?" Mick smiled, "You know, I actually didn't consider that." He looked at Emily, "Danny's got a point. What if you convince Thomas to agree to something along those lines before you tell him anything?"

"Will that even work the same as it did during the war?" Emily asked, doubtful.

"That's where we WILL have to take a bit of a risk, but Thomas has always been a cheeky yet honorable sort of engine. His yes usually means yes and his no usually means no. Like I said earlier, if he lets something like this get out when you've told him not to, then he never had the right to call himself your friend." Mick said, "Besides, I'm still very certain that you and him want the same thing. So...if you do it right and propose a truce, he might agree and then you can talk to him on even, neutral terms."

"If he disagrees with a truce," Daniel grinned, "then you don't have to tell him anything and…" He frowned, "Well, in the very least, you'll know a bit better if it'll be hit or miss."

None of them had to nor wanted to bring up the question of what they would even do if Thomas said no.

We just have to do it right, make the right approach. Mick thought to himself. We'll most likely be at the end of our rope if he disagrees, but...let's try not to worry about that. The driver sighed, "Well, what do you say, Em?"

The uncertainty that remained on her face didn't change, especially as she no doubt thought back over the past few days. In the end, her desire to be herself again- coupled with their logic- seemed to win that skirmish. After a several long minutes of thinking, Emily's mouth formed a firm line as her gaze hardened- not with irritation or anger, but determination, "Are you both absolutely sure about this? Mick? Daniel?"

The driver and fireman nodded.

Emily looked back and forth between them, then took a deep breath, her eyes wandering up to the night sky. Through it all, every word they had shared that evening kept running in her mind. A part of her still wanted to back out, but…but...

If there's any hope that this can end for all of us...I guess…I guess talking to each other again would've been inevitable at some point. Better as a truce than as another confrontation or...humiliation. She frowned, At least I can look Thomas in the eye later and say that I tried, if...if he really IS acting based on nostalgia…

"...Okay, if you two are really sure it's a good idea, then...for now, I'll give you two the benefit of the doubt." She sighed with finality, then looked at them with as much determination as she could muster, "What's the plan?"

"For starters, we need to find an opportunity that you can talk to Thomas. Given the circumstances, trying to arrange a time and place ahead of time is a bad idea. We can't risk him setting us up again." Daniel tapped his chin, "We're going to just have to hope and pray that an opportunity arises that we can be alone with just him and his crew? Until then, though, absolutely no one else can know or hear about what we might tell him." He checked his watch and smiled, "But we'll worry about THAT later. For right now, I'd say we have about an hour and a half before we should be heading back to Tidmouth, and there are still a few OTHER things we'll have to work on in the meantime if we're really going to do this?"

Emily looked uncomfortable upon hearing that, "What other things?"

Mick smirked, "Emily, on the inside you want to change things, but that doesn't mean you haven't developed a few bad habits, namely a knack for letting your mouth get you into plenty of hot water."

"And if you're going to even have just a little bit of success in getting Thomas to accept a truce," Daniel rolled his eyes, "we ARE going to have to work on improving your attitude while we have the chance, at least with the way you talk to other engines. He most likely won't talk to the new you, but rather something of the old you." He suddenly snapped his fingers, "Oh, and before I forget, on the way back, I need you two to stop by the end of Black Loch."

"Um...why?" His partner blinked.

"Just you two wait and see. For now, though," He rubbed his hands together, "let's get started."

"With…attitude adjustment? Alright, I guess." She nodded, "Um...how do we start?"

"It shouldn't be too hard to make you more approachable, so let's begin by talking about the nicest- truly nicest- thing you've said to Thomas or another friend recently- and NOT a condescending compliment about how he 'improved'. That doesn't count."

The Stirling bit her lip as the two Scotsmen watched her think hard….

...and think…

...and think…

…

…

…and think.

"Uh...Em?" Daniel reached up and tapped her cheek, getting her attention, "You DO remember the last nice thing you said to him...right?"

"Yes…" She answered, slowly.

"And...I'm afraid to ask, but…how long ago was it?"

Mick was unsurprised. He couldn't even remember the last time, not like Emily could. For him, she had just seemed unwavering in how unpleasant she had been to their friends and coworkers, unable to turn that switch off, I'm calling my bets on...eight months ago?

Emily gulped, then smiled sheepishly, "A year."

...Well...I was always bad at gambling, anyway.

Daniel stared at their engine, intently, "...Are you actually serious? Not even one SLIP back into your old self since?"

Her smile fell, replaced with a shameful nod.

"Not even this past winter?" The Stirling usually ALWAYS managed to find someone to chat with during Christmas and New Year's, at least casually.

"...I actually didn't talk to anybody." She admitted, "I kept to myself."

"Oh boy…" Mick muttered. In the tense silence between engine and fireman that followed, the driver removed his hat and crossed himself, realizing with dismay that this was probably going to take a lot more than just ninety minutes. Heck, with their luck, they'd probably be so tired when morning came that they'd have to take a sick day- and even THEN, if Sir Topham Hatt didn't scold them for unprofessionalism, Daniel would insist that they still work with Emily all the next day anyway instead of getting rest.

Oh well, it's for a good cause… He thought, Sleep is for the weak, anyway. But Thomas, The Scotsman went over and leaned back against Emily's left-side running board, listening as Daniel began the painful process on instructing her, for your sake, for everyone's sake, this plan had better work. Because if you don't help us, then I'm not about to let whatever scheme you're ultimately cooking up hurt her again...

He looked up at the sky through the trees, scowling, ...To end this nightmare for her...we'll all leave Sodor and never look back, if that's really what it takes.

LONG NOTE WARNING!

So…I WANT to say that it's just "been awhile", but the truth is…not only has it been more than a year since I last updated this story, it's been possibly one of the most eventful years of my entire life: A mission trip to end the school year, working part-time for income as well as summer classes (one of them a writing class, ironically), getting hours in my field in before the start of the fall semester, the fall semester of school itself, holidays with family, looking for a new job, the start of a pandemic and a quarantine- and throughout all of it, one of the thoughts ringing in my head is, "Will I ever be able to get this chapter done? I REALLY want to finish this story, but will I ever be able to?" Heck, it's been so long, it even seems that our favorite emerald engine in question went through a slight redesign in her appearance (though I'm not really sure I like it, to be honest). Well, despite all of that, here it is: Chapter 5B, and with it, the conclusion of Chapter 5 overall with possibly one of the biggest developments of the entire story (two if you put it together with James' side): Emily now has a big idea of what is going on with her friends, which is exactly what they feared happening (Seems like Rosie shouldn't have said anything, huh?), but will it go downhill like they expect? Will her crew's plan to make a truce with Thomas fail miserably or will it succeed? Are any of these plans, these alliances- their plan for a truce, Molly and James' plan to confess to Sir Topham Hatt, or the Table Turners- going to fulfill the goal of bringing the old her back freely? Well, I guess we'll just have to see, won't we? As always, I might be slow in getting future chapters out, but trust me when I say that I don't plan on the ending of this story coming out somewhere around 2045.

For now, though, I want to deeply thank jriddle41 for reviewing this story and giving me some ideas. In fact, I want to thank all of you who PM'd and/or reviewed, because your continued interest in this story was what kept me from giving up. And as for the poll I had made, another thank you to those who answered on it (A lot of folks on here REALLY like Thomily, huh? Well, I'm sure not complaining about that!), because overall, if there's something I really like doing as a hobby, it's things like this. With that being said, I know a lot of you might have questions- maybe even some complaints- about this chapter. I understand that, which is why I encourage you to PM me with them. I feel like, that way, it's easier for me to address them personally. The same goes for anyone who has any suggestions for future chapters (not necessarily the actual stunts pulled on Emily). Please, do not hesitate to let me know if you do. I am easily inspired, especially in times of writer's block, so you guys will actually be helping me. You all are definitely a fantastic community.

To finish up with this long author's note, though, I would like to briefly discuss some things about this chapter and the future ones incoming, just a few…I guess you could say "worldbuilding" details. I feel like you guys deserve to know my thought process a bit in writing and developing this story, especially since I waited so long to post this chapter. Again, anything you all want to contribute to this story is appreciated.

1. First off, yes, I have named Emily's driver and fireman Mick and Daniel respectively (not to mention the other five men they talked about). When I posted Chapter 5A, I actually didn't think it was a good idea to give names to the crews because I was afraid it would create sloppy scenes with too many names to keep track of. Then again, when it turned out that this chapter was going to be just Emily and the two of them, I just suddenly remembered from the scenes with Thomas and Molly, "Wait, Emily KNOWS these guys personally. Why am I still labeling them by their jobs?" There are even plenty of episodes showing engines and their crews have a close relationship with one another, and the whole reason I got back into this fandom in the first place was because I was interested in the connections between engines and human beings. So, at least for the time being, I'm going to give names to the otherwise-nameless human characters, but only when there are either a low amount of engines in the scene OR I'm writing from a perspective where their names shouldn't be known by another character. It's just to give them a little bit more depth, at least.

2. I said this in the last chapter, but again, I want to apologize if you guys were expecting flashbacks or anything revealing in this chapter. I still don't trust my writing abilities one-hundred-percent, but I promise that we'll get that point soon. I can't lie, though: If we were in Emily's position, would any of us really want to willingly delve into such painful past events, particularly in the sort of situation she's in with Thomas and the others where it's "happening again"? Personally, as annoying as it would be to others trying to help me, I wouldn't (not right away, at least), which is honestly why I opted for this chapter to be an entirely shared perspective rather than just Emily's POV as I had originally planned, as well as going more for dialogue than thought on her part. Simply put, I decided to make this a loose image of a counseling session, if that makes sense, making sure her crew could convince her to take action. Any repetition/redundancy present, though, specifically in talking about the things she's done and the regrets she has, I can't justify that and I feel like that's the biggest problem with this chapter. If you want the author's two cents, I honestly feel like this chapter is more LACKING than the previous updates, relying on dramatic irony but also a bit too much "show, then tell", non-conflicts, etc. You guys can be your own judges about it, though. I guess it comes with the struggle of not knowing what to write over the course of thirteen months.

3. Emily's "Vexation Trance". I actually had to start fresh on this chapter at one point because I didn't like where it was going and out of everything, this was the one thing I wanted to keep, mainly for how I came up with it as an idea (If you guys ever want me to tell you about THAT little moment of inspiration, I'd be more than happy to, because it's kind of funny to me). I will say this here, though: This chapter is not the last we'll see of it in this story, and when we see it again, it WON'T be just an unconscious expression that Emily is making [insert evil laugh here], because there IS a deeper meaning for it. I strongly suggest praying for the next character who you think might come face to face with it. Will it be Thomas? James? Who knows….

4. To those (particularly the few who suggested it) who are disappointed that Emily won't go to Molly on account of how close she is to James, don't worry. I mean, just because she won't talk to Molly about her problems doesn't mean she, Molly, and James won't interact. In fact, as I said above, there are now officially three factions (Emily and her crew, James and Molly, and the Table Turners- Toby, Mavis, Thomas, and Rosie), and I plan on Molly and James working together to help Emily in their own way. What can they do if it's not yet the right time for James to confess his crimes to Sir Topham Hatt? Well, who's the say our yellow engine can't be cheeky herself?

5. Going back to the poll, where I asked if there would be romance between Thomas and Emily in this story, I have finally decided that there will be maybe hints of it here (because I just can't help myself) and definitely in future stories that focus more on it, but Thomas and Emily are NOT going to end up together by the end of this story here. It just doesn't exactly fit with the overall themes I'm going for in Bossy Boilers, which are mainly friends, family, and redemption. I encourage you to keep reading if you want to, though, because trust me, it's gonna happen eventually- and like I just said, there WILL be hints of it beginning to develop, starting with Thomas and Emily's next major interaction.

There are other things I would've liked to mention, but frankly, those are the big looks into my mind I wanted you guys to see and I've talked for long enough as it is, so I'm gonna conclude this here. Until next time, folks, when we finally- FINALLY get back to our pal Thomas in Chapter 6 of Bossy Boilers: Turning The Tables.