#word of advice shiping something for shits and giggles is your first and last chance to get out

[ye-olde-sodor]

Night Talks (CotL Fic PT 3)

Gordon gazed of into the distance from the castle balcony. His eyes glanced down at the sight of the city of Vicarstown below him. Vicarstown, the largest city on the Island, connecting the Mainland to Sodor itself, looked so small from the palace in the sky.

When 10 had took control of the island, the Diesel works had ascended into the sky, shifting and morphing from the ranshack sheds that the Diesels dared to call home into a grand and wonderous palace that could rival that of Windsor itself.

Gordon turned his back from the view and leaned against the railing of the balcony. He felt the cold autumn wind brush against his face and arms as he turned his attention to the archway. The light of the moon seemed to shimmer around him and the balcony railing. As Gordon look at the grand arch, a small, thin man in a red turtleneck and black overalls had appeared.

Diesel, the appointed magic scholar, had returned from his trip from the bar. Gordon scoffed at him as he approached.

"You're fifteen minutes late, Rudolph. Any later and you would've had to deal with the Patrols."

"Yeah yeah," the diesel mocked. "It's not my fault we had to take the roads."

Gordon became cross at the mention of roads. "You took the roads?! You're a diesel, why didn't you just travel by rail?!"

"Hey, blame Dodge, not me!" the thin man proclaimed. "His engine failed last week, remember?"

Gordon blinked. He had heard of Dodge's engine, but had assumed all had been fixed. He also assumed that Dodge would've just climbed into one of his colleagues cabs and driven home. Then again, after living with them for so long, he knew the diesels tend to make things more complicated than they would've been had they just used their heads. At least they were typically creative in their poor decisions.

He rolled his eyes at the man but decided to drop the subject. "Just...try to get back here on time next time. I'd hate for you to get mixed up with the patrols."

Diesel, surprisingly enough, felt guilty. Gordon was one of the few engines on the railway that had a fondness for Diesel, although he's not exactly sure why.

In a surprising turn of events, Gordon had stayed with the Diesels after his fight with Diesel 10 and had been working for them ever since. He'd gotten along with the other diesels better than anyone would've expected...and he became especially close to 10.

Diesel wasn't the only one who noticed this change in the prideful engine's notion towards diesels. Many suspected that it had to do with what had happened in the fight between the two of them. While he himself wasn't present for it, he knew that the mysterious Gold Dust was involved with it...and he was determined to understand how it worked.

He walked closer to Gordon and pulled a sheet of paper out of his overall pocket and handed it to Gordon.

"If it makes up for it, I've been meaning to give you to this," he explained.

"What is it?" Gordon questioned.

"It's just an experiment proposal for the dust. I'll need a small bag of the dust for it, but it's a reasonable amount."

"So you want me to propose the idea to him." Gordon concluded as he skimmed through the paper. Diesel was right, It was a simple request. Just a small amount of Gold Dust for Diesel to sprinkle onto a live plant to see what would happen. Simple, but if it produces a result, can prove to be very useful.

"You're the only one he talks to anymore," he argued. "Even Splatter and Dodge can't get to him."

"That makes sense," Gordon argued, "He's...changed since the last time you've seen him."

"Really?" Diesel snarked sarcastically.

"More so than usual, you brick." Gordon sneered. "If you knew how much he's changed you'd understand."

"Of course I know how much he's changed," Diesel thought, "I've known him for years and no one knew he would do this. Besides, what do you know about him? How did you suddenly become his number one fan?"

Gordon put the paper in his pocket and turned to Diesel. "Well, I'll see what I can do. I can't guarantee that he'll go through with the idea, but I'm sure he'll have a look at it. I know he's fond of your little tricks and tests."

"Y'know, you sure know a lot about him." Diesel teased. "I've known him for, what, Three years now? I didn't even know he liked my tricks!"

"What are you implying?" Gordon growled.

"Oh nothing! Nothing at all!" Diesel said as he threw his arms up in defense. "It's just that, well...You two seem awfully close for-"

"We're friends." Gordon interrupted, his face turning red. "Nothing more, nothing less. You're just telling whoppers again."

"For Makers sake Gordon, you two have matching tattoos!"

"Friends can have matching tattoos!" Gordon protested as steam rose from his mouth.

"And send each other love poems?"

"Friends can absolutely send-HEY."

Diesel smiled at the reaction. Little did Gordon know that he had stumbled on a poem on Gordon's desk earlier that day. He had no ill intent with the information, he merely wanted to hear it from the blue engine himself. Both for confirmation and for the fun of it.

"It's fine, really." Diesel insisted, "I just wanna know the story. How did you two, of all engines, hook up?"

Gordon, knowing he'd been caught, let out a long sigh. "It happened around...three years ago. When he first showed up here."

"That long?!"

"It didn't happen right away, you fool!" Gordon clarified. "He was the one who started to feel something for me when I was teaching him the express route. I didn't start having those feelings until after he sent me one of his poems."

"How Chessy." Diesel snarked sarcastically.

"Oh it gets better," Gordon remarked. "It was a rough draft. According to him it was awful, but his driver mixed up the rough draft with the finished poem."

Diesel cocked his head, "Sooooo what happened when you read it?"

"I was swooned." he admitted with a deadpan look, "Completely taken out of my element."

Diesel burst into laughter as Gordon went on, ignoring the man altogether as he was lost in recollection.

"He had his driver pin the note to the side of the shed wall where I was sleeping for the night. When my driver found it in the morning, he read it out loud to us."

Diesel tried to compose himself as Gordon when on.

"I didn't even know we could feel intimacy towards each other until then, and even after the poem I was still skeptical about the feeling. A few weeks later the two of us met to talk about it, and we decided to just keep things the same."

"What?"

"Neither of us knew what romance was. 10 believed that we could feel it, I didn't. We didn't even know if what we were feeling is love to begin with. It could be something else entirely for all we know."

The emotions of machines were never fully understood by anyone, not even the machines themselves. Many believed that they could feel certain emotions, others didn't. Gordon was one of these machines. Him and the majority of the engines on the island believed that love was foreign to engines, even after the evidence from Toby and Henrietta. Until 10 came along, he was convinced that romantic attraction was impossible for engines to feel, and even went as far as to shame those who did back in his youth. Now that he was older (and wiser), he's been expressing doubts about the beliefs that were drilled into him at Doncaster.

Diesel, now incredibly intrigued and eager to help, wanted to quiz the engine. "Can you describe it. The feeling I mean, can you tell me what it feels like?"

"It's...difficult to explain it, but I could try to."

Diesel nodded and decided that questions could help him out. "When my driver fell in love, he said that he could feel happy when he thought of her. What does it feel like when you think of him?"

Gordon took a moment to think about it and responded back. "I feel...warm. Like my fire was recently lit during the winter. It's cozy, and it feels good."

"What about when you two are close together or when you spend time with him? Do you get the same feeling?"

"Yes, I do." Gordon explained. "It's the same feeling, but it's stronger. Warmer even...What do you make of it?"

"Driver says love is like a fever," explained Diesel, "But it's a good fever. It means you found the person who you want to stay with for the rest of your life. The two of you are supposed to be happy together, your supposed to make each other happy, y'know?"

"When you put it like that, it makes sense. But it feels so much more complicated than that, words just can't do it justice."

"It sounds a lot like love to me," Diesel spoke. "but I can't speak for the two of you. You gotta figure that out yourselves."

"True, but some advice from an expert would be appreciated...I don't think either of us know what we're doing."

Diesel shrugged his shoulders. "I may not know much about love but...well I wish for the best for you two. If anyone it can make it work, it's 10. He's tough, but he's a softie. He'd never hurt someone that he loves."

Gordon smiled at the man. He was about to thank his friend before he was seized by a sudden coughing fit. He began to cough violently as thick black smoke had begun to bellow out of his mouth, the smell of diesel fuel filling the air around him.

He knelt down to the ground as he gripped his chest. Diesel reacted quickly and placed his hands on his shoulders as he tried to soothe him. The smoke stung his eyes, but he held on to his friend, waiting for the eventual end to the coughing fit.

The two of them had grown accustomed to the fits, as they had started after his fight with 10 on the platform at Knapford. They typically started around midnight and in the early morning hours, and only lasted for a few moments.

Diesel would never suggest it to Gordon's face, but he suspects that the Gold Dust that 10 used in the fight had been the cause of the fits...and Gordon's transformations.

Eventually, as the black clouds faded, Gordon released the grip on his chest and looked at the palm of his hand. His already long nails had formed into a set of claws, with small quills jutting out from his arm. He cursed as he rubbed his wrist and, with the help of Diesel, got up from the ground.

“It would appear…that my stay here is overdue. Very overdue." he spoke weakly. “Derick and Spamcan must be waiting for me at the gates…I should be off."

"Wait, are you alright? Do you need someone to cover for you?"

"I'm fine," he spoke softly. "If anything, it's quite ironic. I lecture you for being late and yet here I am stalling. We can chat in the morning when we get back, if you'd like."

Diesel smiled as he helped Gordon to his feet, careful not to poke himself with the quills. "Deal, but take it easy. I don't want to be the guy to tell 10 that his boyfriend got hurt on the job."

"Oh hush you." he teased. "There'll be Hell to pay for everyone if that were to happen to me."

Gordon waved farewell to Diesel and walked into the fortress. As he entered the castle, a feeling of excitement and unease rushed into his body in anticipation of the patrol. Like all of the other changes to his body, he had become used to the sudden changes in appearance and behavior by now...but it didn't make what would happen next any more normal.

He hated it, but there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it. Not until they understood his situation, and in order to understand it, he had to let it happen. Not that he had much of a choice.

A small pain in his chest had formed again, and his heart began to race...and he sprinted towards the gates, praying that no one would see what would about to happen to him next.