Chapter 4: Brother

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Gordon blinked as the sun startled him slightly awake. His vision soon came and found himself in familiar territory. Old familiar. He was at Vicarstown, but when it was big and grand, before being shrunk down to a small branch line junction. Gordon looked around, remembering all the familiar sights to see in the yard. It was right next to the small town with the church standing tall on top of the hill nearby. Gordon smiled fondly at this. A shrill then jolted him suddenly.

"Wake up lazy bones! Do some hard work for a change! You can't catch me!"

Gordon watched as a familiar blue tank engine raced away as fast as he could, laughing all the while. Continuing to watch the tank engine puff off to the station, Gordon remained where he was, thinking about where he was. This must be a memory, Gordon smiled slightly, fondly remembering the warm sun that came down onto the island. He closed his eyes to feel the warmth of the sun.

Suddenly, the warmth of the sun was gone and Gordon's eyes opened. He then heard shouting from the corner of the yard and moved off to see what the commotion was. He then came to the corner of the yard and saw a sight he was too familiar with, arguing with a much younger version of the big blue engine.

"You did that on purpose!" snapped the tank engine angrily.

"Oh is that right?" said Gordon, "I like to see whether the Fat Director believes you with that!"

"Then explain why you moved off without the guard's whistle!"

"The guard did blow his whistle!" snapped Gordon crossly, "or were you too sleepy to realise?"

"Pah! You should've heard me then! I whistle for you to stop!"

"Winds don't always carry sound, especially at high speeds."

"You're a horrid thing aren't you," Thomas said plainly.

The young Gordon's eyes widen, then narrowed in anger. "Don't you dare talk to me like that you dirty little shunter, back on the London North Eastern Railway, they treated me with respect!"

"Yeah?" scoffed Thomas, "please... if they treated you with respect they would've kept you. But the way your Mr Gresley spoke, it sounded like they were ready to throw you in the scrap heap. You didn't get any respect there either by the sounds of it to me!"

"Thomas!" cried Edward, but the tank engine moved off to leave in frustration. The young Gordon then moved forward suddenly and stopped Thomas in his tracks at some points.

"Now listen here you toy maggot," Gordon hissed, "I've earned my respect, unlike you. You go on about seeing the world, well you're not deserving of seeing it! You were designed to be a little thing in a little harbour tucked away there. You'll never amount to anything."

Thomas tried to look tough, but as the older Gordon looked on, he saw the eyes telling another story of hurt and pain.

"You'll always be the little shunter who fetches our coaches," continued the young Gordon, "and then you'll be nothing, just like your antique of a friend back there."

The young, arrogant, pompous big engine moved off in front of Thomas without a care in the world. No second thoughts on what he had just said. The big engine puffed past the older Gordon, who looked at the other two engines painted blue. Both now staring at him. Edward looked on at him with disappointment and uncharacteristically angered towards Gordon. Thomas however, looked hurt and sad, like his entire world had been shattered by those harsh, rude words. Gordon just looked back to see his younger self not there anymore and sighed deeply.

He could only look at his buffers guiltily.

***

The steam engines were all different in shapes and sizes. Some were tank engines, and others were tender engines, which were either the size of a common goods engine or a mighty express engine. They all looked around the sheds and saw the dirtiness of it with disapproving looks. A cackle came from the corner of the shed, as the engine who called himself Jamison steamed outside the sheds.

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