Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends Into the Thigh-Verse

Taking Up The Rains

Gordon, the Big Engine, was feeling unwell. Workmen tried their best to make him better, but it made little good. The Fat Controller came to see him.
"At least until you're feeling well, I'll have to get Benson or Peter to cover the express." But Gordon refused.
"Pah!" He huffed. "I'll be fine! Just a little out of shape, that's all! Nothing a nice long run cannot fix!"
"Don't be stupid!" Scalded his driver. "If you're feelin like shit, then at least have the day off, you stupid galloping sausage!"
But Gordon had already made his mind up. The Fat Controller, his crew and even the workmen tried to talk him out of it, but Gordon was stubborn. Eventually, everyone accepted defeat, and Gordon set out, feeling rather pleased.
"I'm sure I just need a good long run!" He proclaimed to himself. "Right?"

Rain had come to the island of Sodor! Seabeds were ripped apart, trees were blown over and fences had been torn apart! The engines found it a real struggle, often being delayed for what felt like hours on end!
"I feel really useless at times." Grunted Rick. "I was trapped behind a herd of sheep for at least an hour three days ago! And all because that lazy old farmer couldn't be bothered to phone for help!"
Many tales similar to Rick's had been floating around. Engines running into endless amounts of delays and then getting the blame.
"It's hard to keep smiling when everything is your fault." Zorran sighed.
"It's just getting worse too!" Bernie added. "The branchline has never looked so busy!"
Donald, who'd been filling up on water, could only agree.
"Somethin needs tae be done." Donald said. His driver shook his head.
"Yes, quite. But what? The Fat Controller has his hands full as is. We'd just be making it worse."
"Still, there must be something we can do." The stoker replied. "Perhaps, we can cause a big enough fuss? Pull off some crazy awesome stunt. Then I'm sure we can fix it!"
Donald shuddered at the thought.
"Dinnae ye dare suggest such a thing!" He huffed. "A'd rather stay on ma nice warm rails, thank ye!"
His crew only laughed. They watched from the sidelines, as Gordon slowly ventured out of the station. Donald sighed, and looked up. While the rain was light now, it was sure to be a downpour by the next hour.

And Donald was right. He hadn't gotten very far, when he was flagged down by one of the lineside farmers.
"Sorry!" She explained. "Some sheep broke free from their pen! Do you mind helping me round them up?"
"We can certainly try!" Donald's driver replied. And they did. It took a while, but soon, all the sheep were safely brought back to their pen... Almost.
"There's still one missing!" The farmer cried. "My boy, Aiden!"
"Who calls a sheep Aiden?" It took yet another hour to find the last sheep, stuck uptop of a tree.
"How did he even get there?"
"A hope and a pair." At last, Donald was able to set off, later than ever! He was so late, that by the time he reached the airport, he was shunted into the sidings, to allow the express to pass back through, heading the other way. At last, Gordon limped in.
"Sae much for feelin well, eh?" Donald teased. Gordon scoffed.
"Pah! I'm just not making up steam propally! I must be blocked something fierce!" Gordon huffed. "I might need a helping buffer up to the next station!"
"From who? Us?"
"Who else?" Sneered Marie. "The fucking milk man?"
Donald only laughed, but agreed. He was soon hitched to the front of Gordon's train.
"If I stall, I wouldn't want to push you back." Gordon explained.
"Aye, o course. Sae ye'd rather drag me back? A like yer logic big man."

The rain was heavier at Gordon's Hill. The two engines surged forwards! They struggled and struggled, but the hill only seemed to grow longer and longer! They were exhausted by the time they neared the top!
"Come on! Come on!" Huffed Gordon.
"We can dae it! we can dae it!" Panted Donald. Just before they crested the top, it happened! All of a sudden, Gordon's wheels slipped furiously on the rails! The big blue engine found he could go no furthur, his wheels firmly digging into the rails! Slowly, but surely, the weight of the train began to haul the two engines back down the hill!
"OH NO!" Gordon shouted! "WE'RE SLIPPING!"
"MORE STEAM, YE LAZY GIT!" Donald called. His driver carefully opened the regulator, and Donald's wheels began to pick up speed, but nothing happened! It was only when his stoker set down some sand, did Donald find some grip! "OH NA YE DON'T!"
Donald's wheels locked hard, firmly clasping the rails! Donald strained forward with every ounce of strength and speed he had! But at last, he found himself stopping the descent!
"Come on old boy! Well done!" Amber cheered! "Keep it up!"
Donald's face was as red as James' paint, but he struggled forwards! Gordon tried his best, but he found that he could barely turn a wheel. Then, it happened. Donald had only just started, when there was an almight BOOM! Sparks, soot and steam roared out of Gordon's funnel, and covered the lineside! To his surprise, Gordon found that he felt better. In no time, he found his grip, and pushed the train over the top of the hill!

Donald was left behind at Edward's station, while Gordon chuntered away. He whistled happily at the scottish twin as he left.
"Poop! Poop! Thank you!" He called.
"Peep! peep! Ye're welcome!" Donald replied.

That evening, Donald returned home to find Gordon waiting.
"A fine effort today, old boy!" Gordon spoke. "Well done!"
Donald smiled, but he was so tired, he couldn't reply. He didn't have to.
"A fine effort indeed." Said The Fat Controller. "Donald, I am very proud of you. You showed great effort despite adversity. Tomorrow, I would like you to go away to be repainted."
"Och, thank ye, sir! Ye're ower kynd!" Donald beamed with pride! "Happy tae help, sir!"
"And you too, Jack, Amber, Jen. I want you all to rest up."
"I suppose." Gordon finally laughed again. "There are the odd ups of such a dreadful downpour, eh?"
Donald wholeheartedly agreed. Donald and Gordon's crew went home together. They were nearing the front door, when Ash, Gordon's driver, turned around. 
"Alright then." She spoke, stopping Donald's driver, Jack, in place. "When will you write a story about this!?"
Jack smiled. 
"Whenever the time comes, dearest little creature." He replied, tapping his friend on the head. The smaller woman made some unusual noises. "We'll have to wait and see!"
"Okay, but what about tomorrow! And the day after that? Or the day after that!?"
"One step at a time." Jack replied. Both turned around, to see the sunset shining through. The rain had stopped, and for the first time in what seemed like weeks, the two were left in a joyful silence. Whatever happens next, I hope you stick around.