Part Eight

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"What do you know about Francine Marin-Desportes?" Lady asked, hands clasped in front of her chest. The silence was absolutely deafening. Frances watched through the window, wanting to cry out, to do something. Instead he watched as Lady interrogated Dawn, not being able to do anything at all.

THREE HOURS EARLIER

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"I would love to tell you that you're the worst threat we've dealt with, but that would be a lie. You are far from it, Francine Marin-Desportes. Your impact on my engines, however, is another story. You must understand that I don't mistreat my locomotives; you aren't truly people, remember? I do my best."

Frances had been grilled, bribed and shouted at, but he refused to speak a single word. Finally, they had pulled out the big guns: a "friendly" conversation with The Fat Controller himself. Frances hated to admit it, but some of the things he said made some semblance of sense.

After all, he had freed a criminal from prison, which was never an acceptable action. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from arguing that "since she's really hot, wasn't I just contributing to society?". There was something sketchy about the whole situation, however.

"Don't fight me, Francine. This'll be easier for all of us if you just come quietly. Why, I'll even invite you back into my staff. Just quit this nonesense and confess." Frances was still confused. Confess what? They already knew what he had done. Unless...

"What do I have to say?" He asked warily, though he was almost certain that he knew the answer. A genuine smile appeared on The Controller's face as he slid a document across the table. Frances' eyes skimmed the writing, the pit in his stomach growing deeper with each sentence.

"Oh don't worry- none of this will be made public. In a nutshell, this document simply states that you recognize your involvement in the freeing of one Diesel Ten, as well as any scheming and/or plotting, etc." But that wasn't what Frances was worried about. There, looming in front of him, was the signature space.

"I'm sure that it goes without saying, but by signing this document, you'll be acknowledging that you are my engine, working on my railway, and there'll be no more of this transsexual business. I've seen many people who are confused, just as you are. I promise that we'll cure your terrible illness and everything will be back to normal. What do you say?"

Frances was left absolutely speechless. Could this man even hear what he was saying? Under The Fat Controller's militant survey, he picked up the pen with his fingertips. The metal was cool and smooth, and he could see a fragment of his reflection warped by the surface. With his heart in his throat and a fire in his eyes, he threw the pen against the wall.

A cold expression fell upon The Fat Controller's face. "Very well." He left the room, and Frances heard him speaking into a telephone. "Unfortunately, my strategy has failed. You may take it from here." Frantically questioning what he had done, Frances pulled on his hair, wishing that he had someone to braid it for him.

He tried to do it himself, pulling one side into three separate strands, weaving one over the other until he reached the end. Seeing two conveniently placed elastic bands on the floor, he finished the other braid and twisted the bands around them, holding the hair in place. He couldn't see himself, but by running his hand along the bumps and crevices of the braids, he found himself calming down.

Whatever happened, he was taking the things that mattered most to the grave.

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Dawn laughed and flipped the bird. Lady leaned forward and whispered something that Frances couldn't hear. She then made a strange waving motion with her hand, and Frances felt himself be surrounded by shining gold dust.

He and Dawn shared a split second of eye contact, cherishing it for all it meant.

"If you truly wish for this to play out, so be it." Lady pointed at the guard stationed at the door, and they gave her their nightstick and left, shutting the door loudly.

Dawn didn't react, but Frances realized what was

happening and tried to push Lady over, but he was frozen mid-movement. "You should have seen this coming from the start, fool. It's my fault for not enforcing this earlier."

With that, she raised the bat and slammed him in the head with it. She jabbed it into his ribs, knocking all of the air out of him. He dropped to the floor in a heap, crying with pain.

She continued her assault, tutting as he attempted to cover his head. "Do you wish for me to continue? Without your confession, I'm afraid there's no evidence to convict you. However, if you admit your treachery, I'll let her go, and you'll all share a cell together, if I feel so generous." She was obviously talking to Dawn, who sat casually, as if this was a common occurrence.

Frances whimpered weakly, raising his head to look at her. She met his eyes for a few seconds, and in those seconds, he felt all hope drain from him. "Look, I know I've got a bad habit for taking in strays, but do ya' really think I'd hide a random kid just for the hell of it?" Frances' thoughts were hazy, but he did notice that their voice was deep and harsh, unlike the soft purr he was used to.

"She released you from your containment." Lady faltered, real confusion in her voice. "Let's be honest, I was gonna' get outta' there on my own anyway, and you haven't done shit about it either." Dawn countered. Lady lowered the stick slightly, and Frances breathed a silent sigh of relief."You could be an asset, if you wished to be."

Dawn laughed, and it scared Frances. It sounded malicious and spiteful, more of an expression of power than anything. "An asset? Seriously woman, you'd think that I'd deserve a bit more respect than that." Frances didn't like the tone of Dawn's voice. It scared him beyond anything he'd ever felt.

The world was becoming blurrier by the second, and he couldn't focus on what they said next. All his physical pain was shoved aside as he saw Lady reach out to her, putting her hands in the same places that he had. He couldn't cry, couldn't breath, couldn't do anything but watch.

He finally was granted the sweet release of darkness, with the last thing he heard was Dawn saying that name. The one she had never once spoken of, the one they had sworn they would never use. He had gazed into her eyes, illuminated by the sunrise, and taken that same oath. Fated to die. Fated to break.

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She didn't want to do it. There was no way in hell that they'd hurt him. They should have done something, anything other than sit there. But sit there, she had.

But how could they sacrifice everything they loved for him? She had built a home, a shelter, and allowed him into it. Nothing in the world could be more important than the ones they protected. It had all been for the best, it had to have been. Otherwise, she had thrown away her entire heart, and a bit of their soul with it.

She didn't want to see the expression on Diesel's face, hear Dodge's sobs, feel the shakiness in Splatter's form when he inevitably curled up next to her. They couldn't imagine what would happen when she eventually brought Lady with her.

Of course- Lady. She couldn't know. How on earth was she going to explain the dresses in their closet? They'd have to throw them out. Even her favourite blue number had to go. So did the shoes. She would have to use her old clothes.

Last but not least, he instructed everyone to forget about Dawn.

Diesel Ten was back once again.

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