Work Text:
Crovan's Gate, 1966.
It was long past closing time on the Skarloey Railway. The moon was high in the sky, the stars looking down, and out of their sight all the little engines were shut up in their sheds for the night. Most of them had long fallen asleep, tired out, but Skarloey wasn’t quite out. His firebox was long cold, and he listened to Rheneas snoring quietly beside him as he rested.
There was a sudden heavy clunk from the end of the shed. It was almost too dark to see, but the old engine could just make out the shed door beginning to move. Worry rattled through his cold frames at the sight; he knew it was far too late for the cleaners to be coming in, and far too early for the firelighters; was someone breaking in?
There was a hideous squeal of unoiled hinges as the door swung open a crack, moonlight spilling into the shed. Rheneas snorted, dragged from his sleep by the sound, but Skarloey paid him no mind.
“Who goes there?” he hissed, suddenly wishing he still had steam to whistle. Into the gap in the door stepped a figure, silhouetted in the moonlight, and Skarloey blinked at the sight. Because the shape was that of a young girl, two pigtails sticking out from beneath her distinctive bobble hat. “Wait, Nancy?”
“Are you two awake?” Nancy’s voice came back quiet, quavering slightly.
“I wouldn’t be talking to you if I wasn’t,” Skarloey snarked, despite the concern building in his firebox. She nodded at that, stepping in through the door and letting it swing shut behind her. With a clunk the shed was bathed in darkness again, and by the time Skarloey’s eyes had adjusted Nancy had closed the distance.
She stood awkwardly between the two shed tracks, glancing between him and his brother. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, and now he looked Skarloey could see she had thrown her yellow jumper on over what seemed to be her pajamas. She shivered slightly, her mouth half-open as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what.
“What’re you doing here?” Skarloey asked quietly. Her gaze turned over to him again, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of her face. Her eyes glistened in the darkness, wet with recent tears.
“It’s silly, really,” she admitted, turning her gaze down to his buffer beam. “I just couldn’t sleep.” That was a lie, and both engines knew it. But she went on before they could say, pain creeping into her voice. “I know I shouldn’t be here this late, I just…”
“It’s alright, Nancy,” Skarloey soothed, worry filling his smokebox.
“You’re always welcome here,” Rheneas added. Quietly, Skarloey knew the railwaymen would probably disagree, but he decided not to mention it; comforting Nancy was more important.
“Thanks,” she sniffled, glancing between them again. Rheneas frowned.
“Did you have a bad dream?” he asked softly. Nancy tensed at the question. “It’s no shame if you did,” he continued, “we all get them.”
She was quiet for a moment, her grip on herself tightening. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, before slowly her gaze turned down.
“Yes,” she admitted, words tumbling out before she could stop them, “I know it’s stupid, but I had a nightmare and I couldn’t get back to sleep and I didn’t want to wake dad so I came to you instead.”
“Why come to us?” Skarloey couldn’t help asking; two old engines could hardly have been her first choice for comfort, he reasoned. Didn’t she have anyone else she could talk to?
“Because, well, because who else would I go to?” she stammered out. “It’s just me and my dad at home, and I spend more time with you two than just about anyone else.” She wasn’t lying; now Skarloey thought about it, he supposed she did spend most of her free time in the sheds, draped over him or his brother. He had just never really thought about the implications of that until now.
She went on. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help seeing you two as family.” The admission was quiet, barely above a whisper. “It’s strange to say, when you’re so much older than me, but sometimes it’s almost like you two are my older brothers.”
For a moment, Skarloey didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even considered that she saw him that way; glancing over, he could see his brother was similarly lost for words. But as he thought about it more, he could suddenly see why she would feel that way: he had never really thought about how he saw Nancy, but he supposed ‘little sister’ was about the right term.
She seemed to take his silence for disapproval. He felt something twinge in his frames as she took a half-step back, her gaze turning down again to the dirty shed floor. “Sorry.”
“What for?” Rheneas found the words before his brother could. “We don’t mind, do we Skarloey?”
“Of course not,” Skarloey insisted, sudden conviction rising in his smokebox. “You’re practically family to us, too.”
That did it. Nancy’s gaze snapped up again, looking between them both in surprise. Despite the darkness the emotions on her face were clear: disbelief, hope, relief, bare happiness. It was clear she hadn’t dared to hope they would accept her.
She welled up again, tears starting to run down her face. Suddenly she was moving, crossing the darkened shed in a moment; whatever she wanted to say was too much for words. Instead, she leaned over his running plate and threw her arms around the cold iron of Skarloey’s smokebox, her face pressing up against the edge of his.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Warmth swelled in his firebox at her touch; not the physical kind, the feeling that came from being in steam, but a sort of gentle, warm feeling brought on by the thought they were family. She held on for a moment before she pulled back and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
“Now,” he began again, smiling fondly at her. “You can tell us all about that bad dream of yours, if you want? I’ve found it always helps to get things like that out.”
She glanced between him and Rheneas again, hesitantly. Rheneas quickly spoke up. “You can talk to your old brothers, can’t you?” That seemed to calm her a little; she took a deep breath, then quietly began to speak once more.
“I dreamt the house was on fire,” she admitted, her voice a little shaky. “Everything was burning, a-and I tried to get out, but I couldn’t see in the smoke. It just got worse and worse, and then…” she trailed off with a sniffle, looking down.
Skarloey normally wasn’t the type of engine to wish he was something he wasn’t. He was quite happy with his wheels and his cab and his lot in life, but in that moment, he couldn’t deny there was part of him that wanted different. Somehow, he wished he could get up and embrace her, hold his sister close and comfort her, but he was still bound to his rails.
“Shhhh,” he soothed anyway. She sniffled again.
“Even when I woke up, I was still scared,” she admitted; he could hear the lump in her throat. “I kept thinking I’d see fire down the hall, or in one of the other rooms, and it would all happen all over again.” She shook her head, wiping her eyes again. “That’s one of the reasons I came to you two over dad; I wanted to get out of that house, just for tonight.”
“We’re sorry,” Rheneas spoke up, his voice gentle but firm, “that sounds awful. But don’t worry; our fires went out hours ago. You won’t find a flame in the whole shed.” He yawned. She seemed to relax a little, and as she did Skarloey felt an idea fly into his funnel.
“I’ll tell you what, Nancy,” he began, “why don’t I tell you a story, to help take your mind off things?” Nancy perked up again a little at that, the tiniest of smiles settling on her face; she sniffled and wiped her eyes again, interest replacing the pain in her eyes.
“I think I’ve heard all your stories by now,” she teased, but he just smiled.
“Oh no you haven’t,” he replied fondly, feeling the warmth inside grow. “I’m over a hundred years old now, remember? There’s plenty of tales from this very railway that you haven’t heard yet.” He thought back over his memories, settling after a moment on one in particular. “So, what do you say?”
“I’d like that,” she replied. She quickly looked around the shed, her gaze searching for somewhere to sit, but all the workmen had cleared their crates and toolboxes away. Before Skarloey could say, Rheneas spoke up.
“You can come and sit on me,” he offered. Nancy didn’t need to be told twice; she hurried over, perching on his running board and leaning back against the side of his smokebox.
“Thanks,” she said quietly. He just smiled.
Content that she was comfortable, Skarloey began. “Do you know there used to be another little railway, on the other side of the island?”
“The one Peter Sam and Sir Handel came from?” she asked quietly.
“And Duke,” he added; she nodded, enraptured. “Well, in the old days, before that line closed down, they ran trains up to Peel Godred; it’s only about ten miles from there to our top station, if you know the right road through the mountains.
“So for a while we ran a special joint service for visitors. Me or Rheneas would take them up our line, and then they’d all cross the mountains in charabancs and come down the other side, where the other little railway would take them on to the seaside. And then they’d all come back and we’d have to take them all down the valley again. We used to call it the Grand Tour.”
“What’s a ‘sharrabang’?” Nancy asked eagerly, all traces of her fear seemingly forgotten. Skarloey felt warmth rising again inside at the thought.
“It’s a type of horse and cart,” Rheneas piped up, “with lots of benches to give the visitors good views of the lakes and mountains. They were splendid in the old days.”
“Oh.” Nancy yawned, but she was still smiling. And so Skarloey went on about those good old days, about how nice the visitors were, about how the factories on the mainland would send all their workers up for a day out, and about how important pulling those Grand Tour trains had made him feel as a young engine.
“…you should’ve seen Rheneas’ face when I brought them home-”
“Shhh!” his brother suddenly cut him off. After a moment, the other old engine whispered, “look!”
Skarloey did, only to pause at the sight. Nancy wasn’t sitting up anymore; instead, somewhere along the line, she had laid down along Rheneas’ running board, the metal just long enough for her to fit curled up. Her head was on her hands, and she had comfortably slipped into the embrace of sleep.
“Don’t wake her,” Rheneas whispered. Skarloey frowned; as much as he was happy to see her fears had been driven off, he doubted she would be happy to wake up in a cold and grimy engine shed. Not to mention she might get in trouble.
“Why not?” he hissed.
“Our sister can sleep where she likes,” his brother rebuffed, his voice quiet but firm. “The Thin Controller won’t mind if we say we let her.”
Skarloey sighed; part of him wanted to disagree, but looking over at his sister, sleeping contentedly on his brother’s side, he found he didn’t have the heart to. So he acquiesced with a smile, settling back down to sleep for the night. He knew that in the morning they would have to wake Nancy, or else the firelighters would, but for that night all three siblings would sleep soundly together.