On another part of the island, Russell sat quietly in the darkness within the shed he'd been taken to for repairs. Everything hurt, everything felt broken, and if it wasn't, it certainly felt damaged. The workmen who had been looking him over had ascertained that it was not beyond repair, and would return the following day to begin patching him up.

But for now, he was alone. And that was the worst thing he could have been at that time. A deep sorrow was pooling in his boiler, a feeling he knew well, though he could typically keep it at bay. The terrible weight of all his loss and the suffering of those around him, the burden of having friends, only to know they would soon be taken to the smelter or swapped out for someone altogether different and unfriendly, without a chance to even say goodbye.

And the loneliness. The crushing loneliness, being constantly surrounded by others but never speaking a word to them. Seeing people every day, sitting next to them for extended periods of time, even sleeping beside them yet never knowing any of their names. For once, Russell's optimistic nature was failing him- now more than ever, he needed someone to help him.

And that help came from a very unexpected source. Just as he closed his eyes, teetering dangerously upon the precipice of total despair, a noise suddenly yanked him back. Footsteps came toward him from behind, where he couldn't see. His eyes snapped open and his voice cracked, small and broken as he spoke.

"H-hello..?" There was no reply, though the lantern his visitor was holding illuminated the dark of the shed, something he was grateful for. Not only did it do wonders for taking the edge off of his mood, it allowed him to see the visitor for himself as they walked around front of him.

".. Thought I might find you here." Vernon said softly, coming closer to set the lantern down on Russell's running board with a soft tap. His casual tone belied the solemn look he held. Russell swallowed thickly, surprised by the company, particularly the company of someone whom he'd thought had been deported from the island. However he was highly grateful for this too.

"I- I had thought that.. The Administrator sent you home.." He ventured timidly, and Vernon nodded gently.

"She did- but I won't be leavin' until next week. She asked that I stay long enough to help get the rest of the engines fitted with snowploughs.. I could have declined and hopped on the first ship out of here in the mornin' but, that wouldn't have gotten me my last paycheck." He explained nonchalantly, and Russell made a small noise of understanding.

"It also wouldn't have gotten me any extra time with you." He added quietly. Russell blinked, looking down at him in surprise, unsure if he'd heard the man properly. However what Vernon said next proved it to be true.

"I owe you an apology." He muttered gently, absentmindedly rubbing the red engine's running board with a gloved hand. "I should have been, more careful, with you. I made a stupid mistake, and you suffered for it. I know that this place might make it easy to forget but, a crew's purpose is to take care of their engine and I've done a terrible job of it. Kollsvik is no excuse for it.. So I'm sorry, Russell."

The tank engine was speechless; he'd never received even so much as a kind word from any of the men on Kollsvik before, much less such an honest apology.

"It's.." He attempted a bit of a smile, but it felt forced. "It's alright. Mistake or not, it was nice to have you around, if only for a little while.. I've been here for so many years now.. And never has anyone treated me with such respect. Or at least, as if I wasn't just an object." Vernon had been looking down, the brim of his hat casting a dark shadow over his face, but he looked up when Russell finished.

"I just wish we could have met somewhere else. I feel like we could have been great friends." The man said quietly, his sharp features softening into a small, wistful smile of his own. Russell's tentative smile became a bit less forced, though his eyes glazed over with the early onset of tears, his voice trembling a bit.

"It's a shame.." Even as he said it, a tear rolled down his cheek and he sighed, knowing that if he started crying he wouldn't be able to stop, not for a while. He was surprised when Vernon hauled himself up onto the running board and took the hem of his peacoat, using it to wipe the tear away. He wanted to tell Russell not to cry, that everything would be okay, but he couldn't, because he didn't know that.. And the situation didn't offer any reassurance. Both Russell and his friend, the big green fellow whom Vernon couldn't remember the name of if he'd even heard it at all; both of them had come up against some very close calls in the past few weeks since he'd been assigned to the red engine. There was no telling what would happen to them after he was gone.. And if he was to venture a guess, it was nothing good.

So instead, he simply sat there with Russell, allowing him to cry. He only looked up when the red engine finally sniffed and muttered something.

"Can you.. Would you do something for me..?" Vernon paused for a moment.

"Yeah, sure.. It's about your friend, isn't it?" He didn't bother taking his time to get to the point, and the both of them smiled a bit. Russell always appreciated his straightforwardness, it made him feel grounded, even if his world was falling apart.

"Yes, Henry.. Can you please tell him that I'm okay..? I don't want him to be worried, for me." He sniffled again, and Vernon slowly slid off of the running board, his boots making contact with the wet pavement of the shed's floor with a small tap.

"Mhm. I'll uh, head over there t'morrow, early. See if I can talk to 'im before his workday starts." He took up the lantern, stepping back and holding it aloft. "This might be goodbye.. I'll try my best to see you again before I leave but I can't promise anything."

As per usual, Vernon's tone didn't betray his emotions, though his solemn expression said enough. Russell sighed deeply, watching as he walked away, but it was only when he heard the door open that he murmured,

"Au revoir, mon ami.." There was a short silence before the door closed quietly, and Vernon's footsteps in the snow faded into the wind outside.

The next morning, a maintenence crew arrived to start working on Russell; from what he could tell, the plan was to have him ready for work again very soon if they were timely.. And it was very unlikely that they wouldn't be as timely as possible.

He waited patiently as the men crawled in and out, over and under, tallying up his 'wounds', discerning what could be done right then and what would have to wait until later.

A crushed bunker, mangled back end buffers, loose axles, a missing wheel which was still aching something terrible, a bent cab and something about a tank leaking. Russell wanted to wince- he'd known he was pretty damaged but knowing exactly what it was somehow made it worse, as if just thinking about it made each individual injury ache harder. Fortunately, his physical misery was not prolonged; the repair crew got to work immediately after discussing what would need to be done, and Russell spent the rest of the day undergoing repairs. His bunker was well on the way to being fixed, buffers replaced, and dents straightened out..

By the time evening came around, he was in much better shape, but yet still more needed to be done before he'd be working again. He'd fallen asleep sometime during the afternoon, only waking long after the workmen had left and the streetlamps outside had come on. It was dark as he opened his eyes, and he considered going back to sleep.. Until he saw the cans of paint sitting in the corner, only barely illuminated by the light coming in through a crack in the wall. He knew what that meant, and he wasn't surprised; Charlotte had been lenient with him, it had only been a matter of time before he made a mistake she wouldn't forgive. But nontheless, his heart sank.

An indeterminate amount of time passed in the shed- it was hard to tell what time it was, and how long it had been, but after his wheel was replaced and his tank fixed, the workmen began preparing to repaint him. He bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut at the first few strokes, each one erasing a bit of his identity, taking away what little he had left of his own and removing the final trace that he had once been loved.. Loved by someone who had been very special to him.

However, by the time the job was finished, his expression was gone. He stared blankly at the ground directly in front of him until the men finished their work and left, and continued this even as his replacement crew came to retrieve him.

And as he pulled out of the dark shed and into the bright whiteness of Kollsvik's winter, he felt as if he'd left a piece of himself behind in the darkness.