The Midnight Train Crossing

Rusty sat down on his proch with a soft groan. He'd been working very hard these last few days and he ached.
Ashley skated past, on her way to the store.
He watched her go by and waved.
Ashley stopped and waved back.
"Hi," he said softly.
"Hi," Ashley said back, just as softly.
"How's it goin?" he asked.
"Fine..."
"good," he shifted and winced.
"What's wrong?" Ashley skated closer.
"Oh nothing really," he said, "I just sorta ache."
"Aw, from what?"
"Working."
"Aw, poor Rusty." Ashley knelt down next to him.
"The freight train is heavy," he explained.
"I know..."
"And I've been out of practice so I gotta get used to it again," he explained.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
Rusty leaned back stiffly.

"Want a back rub?"
He considered and then nodded.
"Lay down," Ashley instructed.
"Um..." he looked around.
Ashley waited.
"Here or inside?" he asked.
"Wherever."
"Can we go inside? I'd just rather lay on the couch..." he explained.
Ashley nodded. "Sure."
Rusty stood up slowly and headed towards the house.
Ashley slowly followed right behind him.

He skated over to the couch and lay down as directed.
Ashley moved to sit on the back of his legs lightly, digging her hands into his shoulders.
"Mmm..." he mumbled.
Ashley started to massage him gently.
"Thanks," he said softly.
"Of course."
He closed his eyes, letting her work on his tense muscles.

"Sheesh, you've been working hard..."
"I know," he answered.
"Where's it hurt the most?"
"lower..."
Ashley moved her hands down..
"Lower," he said again.
Ashley kept moving her hands.
"There," he said finally.
Ashley nodded and dug the heels of her hands in.
He closed his eyes and relaxed.
"Better?"
"Yeah..."
"Good..."
"Thanks..."
"Of course..."
Rusty dozed off.
Ashley smiled softly, rubbing his back in the way he liked.
"Mmm..."
"Shh..."
He obediently hushed.
Ashley rubbed his shoulders harder.

Belle rolled into the living room and gave them an odd look.
"Shh," Ashley said softly.
Belle smiled, watching them.
Ashley rubbed Rusty's shoulders, relaxing the muscles beneath her fingers.
He smiled into the couch.
"Feeling all right?"
"Much better," he answered.
"Good."
He closed his eyes again.
"Want more?"
"Nah," he said softly, "this is good."
"Okay." Ashley's hands came to rest on Rusty's shoulders.
Rusty was completely relaxed now.
Ashley laid down so her chin rested on his shoulder.
He didn't notice.
Ashley gave him a soft hug around the waist.

"Mmm," he mumbled softly.
Ashley giggled softly.
"Nice," he mumbled.
"What?"
"Feels nice," he clarified.
"Oh."
He relaxed.
Ashley hugged him again.
"I like..." he started.
"What?"
"I'm glad we're friends."
Ashley smiled. "Me too."
He started to roll over.
Ashley shifted to let him do so.
Rusty rolled over and sat up.
Ashley tumbled onto the couch next to him.

Belle, at this point, had left and Rusty put his skates up on the table, despite the fact that he wasn't supposed to.
Ashley gave him a swat. "Get your feet down!"
He pouted but didn't move.
"Come on..."
"Why?"
"Cause you shouldn't have your feet up."
"oh," he shifted and moved his skates to Ashley's lap.
Ashley giggled.
"They aren't on the table," he informed her.
"I know." Ashley tickled his wheels.
"meh," he pulled away from her.
Ashley giggled softly.

He looked at her with limpid eyes.
Ashley laughed. "Quit that!"
"Quit what?" he asked sweetly.
Ashley giggled. "What would Belle say if she saw your grimy feet on the table?"
"To take them down," he answered.
"So take them down!" Ashley commanded.
Rusty returned his feet to the floor.
Ashley smiled. "That's better."
"Good," he answered.
Ashley smiled sweetly at him and rubbed his knee gently with a hand in a comforting way.

"I'm tired," he said softly.
"I can tell."
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Ashley curled closer to him. "Just not in shape, or what?"
"Uh huh," he said.
"Aw, I'm sorry."
"Mmhm," he answered softly.
Ashley gave him a gentle hug.
"Thanks..."
"For what?"
"the massage, and the hug, and for...caring."
Ashley smiled at him. "Well, who wouldn't?"
He smiled back.
Ashley cuddled close.

Several days later on one particularly unpleasant day, weather-wise, Rusty, tired, a bit damp, thirsty and hungry was home. Things hadn't gone well on the freight run today and he wasn't in the best of moods.
"Hold up, Steam Train!" Greaseball hissed, stopping on the tracks next to him.
Rusty obedently stopped and sorta bowed his head respectfully, more out of habit.
Greaseball smiled darkly. "See, you're learning."
Rusty didn't answer, not looking up.
"You messed up your last run."
Rusty looked up questioningly.
"You missed two stops."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really." Greaseball crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm sorry," Rusty said softly, "But I had a reason..."
"Oh? I'd like to hear it."
"It was raining," Rusty started, "And some of the trucks got wet and...well... it wasn't fun..."

"You bet it wasn't!" Flat Top snapped from his spot nearby where he was busy using a towel to dry his soaked hair.
"So we had to stop," Rusty finished.
"That's not a good reason," Greaseball hissed through his teeth.
Rusty shrank.
"But it was wet!" Flat Top whined to the older engine that he looked up to.
Rusty nodded quickly.
Greaseball glared. "You both know better."
Rusty looked down at Greaseball's skates, "I'm sorry."
"You better be."
"I am," Rusty whispered.
"Good. So, what are you going to do about it?"
"F-finish it?"
"Good boy." Greaseball patted Rusty on the head.
Rusty stiffened just slightly.
Greaseball smirked just a bit. "You don't like that?"
"I-I'll go... finish the run," Rusty said to Greaseball's skates.
"You do that."

Rusty started towards Flat Top.
Flat Top backed away. "No way!"
"It's not raining now," Rusty said, "And I'll go fast."
"I'm still wet!:
"Then I'll take you back to the roundhouse," Rusty offered.
"No chance."
"Oh come on Flat Top, it's just two stops."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Cause I'm wet!"
"You'll dry."
"No!" Flat Top turned and skated away.
"Flat Top wait-" Rusty started after the truck.

Greaseball grabbed his couplers and yanked him back.
Rusty held back a yelp and let Greaseball drag him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"After Flat Top-" Rusty started.
"Why?"
"B-because... to finish the run..." Rusty stammered.
"No."
"No?" Rusty asked with a sinking heart.
"That's what I said."
"Oh," Rusty swallowed.
Greaseball smirked. "You go finish your runs."
Rusty nodded a bit gratefully and waited for Greaseball to let go of him.
Greaseball released him roughly.
Rusty barely kept his balance and started slowly down the tracks.
Greaseball watched him go.
The further away he got, the more he picked up speed.
Greaseball skated away.

Rusty had finished his apointed task and was on his way home, he really really wanted to have something to eat, take a shower, and go to bed.
"Hold it!" Greaseball said, slowing to a stop in front of him.
Rusty stopped and as usual bowed his head, sighing inwardly.
"I got a new route for you."
"Another one?"
"Yes, another one."
Rusty sighed and shifted slightly.
"Because I didn't like your attitude earlier.
Rusty looked up, puzzled.
"You let that brick truck push you around."
"Oh," Rusty had been trying to remember what attitude it was that Greaseball didn't like.
"And you weren't exactly respectful to your elders."
Rusty lowered his eyes to the ground.
"I take it you remember?"
"...yes." he lied.
"Good."

Rusty fell silent, wondering how long it would be before he could go home.
"So, here you go." Greaseball handed him the route plan.
Rusty looked over it absently.
"So, get moving."
"I have to do this...now?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Now?" Rusty asked again.
"Isn't that what I said?"
"But it's late-"
"So?" Greaseball hissed, moving closer to him.
Rusty started to take a step back.
Greaseball grabbed him and forced him down onto his knees.
Rusty held back a yelp.
"I didn't like your tone."
Rusty swallowed.
"So, I think something needs to be done about it."
Rusty's breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened fearfully.

"Hmm hmm hmm, what should be done to such a naughty steamer?"
He shook his head slightly.
"What's that?"
"Please no," Rusty pleaded.
"Why not?"
"Please just let me go home," Rusty whispered.
"Why?"
"b-because..."
"Because...?"
"I-I'm sorry. I'll do better tomorrow."
"Is that what you think?"
He nodded.
"Oh. That's too bad, cause it's a little late."
Rusty shrank, cowering before the larger engine.
"So, what to do..."

Rusty put his hands on the ground and leaned forward to all fours.
"Oh, what a good boy!" Greaseball cooed, as if talking to a puppy.
Rusty closed his eyes and didn't look up, so Greaseball wouldn't see the angry look that cross them. "Please," he begged.
"Please what?"
"Please let me go home..."
"Why should I?"
Rusty didn't have an answer.
"No reply?"
"Just please," Rusty whispered.
"I need a reason first."
"B-because you're willing to have mercy on me?" he tried.
"Nice try."
Rusty swallowed again.
"So..."

"B-but Greaseball," Rusty started.
"What?" Greaseball's grip on Rusty tightened sharply.
Rusty winced in pain. "I-I would behave... I mean... i-if you let me go I'd know to behave... because you...you wouldn't next time..."
Greaseball "hmm"-ed softly to himself, then shook his head. "I'm recalling something I said earlier about letting my friends have some fun."
"No!" Rusty gasped, half-sitting up.
"Yes, I think they'd like a little fun."
"No, Greaseball, please," Rusty begged.
"Please what?"
"Please don't."
"Why shouldn't I?"
They'd been through this before, Rusty thought, "wouldn't you rather do it yourself?" he asked weakly.
"I would, but it wouldn't be as much fun for you."
"I thought that was the idea," Rusty murmered.
"Don't get smart!" Greaseball slapped Rusty across the face.
Rusty barely held back a cry of pain.
"So, I think we'll have to have some fun." Greaseball hauled Rusty to his feet.
Rusty was terrified.

Greaseball started to drag Rusty towards the rather run-down part of the yard.
Rusty started to resist, then stopped.
"Good boy," Greaseball commented.
He hated that. Really really hated being told that.
Greaseball dragged him under a trestle and glanced around. "Boys?"
Rusty whimpered softly.
"Yo, get out here!"

There was movement and several tough looking engines emerged.
"Ah, there you are."
"What's goin' on?" one of them asked.
"We got a troublemaker here who needs to be taught a lesson." Greaseball shoved Rusty forward.
Rusty cowered back against Greaseball, trying to make himself as small as possible.
Greaseball knocked Rusty's skates out from under him.
The steamer went flying, landing in a heap on the ground as the other engines laughed.
Greaseball smirked. "So, I think we can have a little fun."
The engines grinned at each other. Some of them pushed their sleeves up and/or flexed their hands.
Rusty buried his head in his arms and shivered.
Greaseball took a step backwards to give his friends a clear shot at him.
"Anything in particular?" a particularly burly one asked.
"Nope. Just teach him to respect diesel."
"Easily done-" one started.
"I do! I do!" Rusty said suddenly.
"You didn't before," Greaseball smirked.
"I do now!" Rusty insisted.
"Well, it's a little late."
"B-but I learned..."
"Because I scared you?"
Rusty nodded.
"Good. Maybe you'll remember that next time."
"But I know *this* time."
"Too late."
Rusty swallowed as the gang rolled over to him.

Greaseball leaned against a trestle and watched.
They grabbed his arms and hauled him up to his wheels. Rusty looked at all of them frantically, pleadingly, but got no response. He closed his eyes as one of them balled his hand into a fist and swung.
Greaseball smirked slightly at the crashing sound.
After the next few punches Rusty collapsed weakly.
Greaseball held up a hand to pause it.
Rusty's head slumped forward as they held him up.
"Feeling a little more respectful?"
Rusty couldn't summon enough energy to answer.
"Yes or no?"
Rusty panted, tasting blood in his mouth and feeling it on his face.
Greaseball skated over to him and tipped his head up with a hand.
Rusty winced.
"Having problems?"
He swallowed, "Mmhm..."
"Is that so?"
"uh huh." Rusty's voice wavered slightly.
"That's too bad."
Rusty closed his eyes with a groan.

Greaseball let go of his chin.
Rusty's head fell forward.
"I suppose you'd like me to let you go?"
"p...please..." he croaked.
Greaseball punched him hard across the jaw. "That was disrespectful, telling me what to do."
Rusty cried out in pain.
Greaseball smirked.
The gang holding him tightened their grip and Rusty felt his eyes get hot, or maybe that was his face...
Greaseball backed away a step.
Two other gang members, after a glance at Greaseball, moved into to take their turns pounding Rusty.
Greaseball watched with mild interest.
Rusty's eyes filled with tears of pain, but he refused to let them fall.
Greaseball checked his watch.
One of the gang took a step back and rammed into Rusty's stomach. Steam whooshed from him and he struggled frantically to breath.

Greaseball held up a hand. "Drop him."
They did as they were bid and Rusty landed with a crash.
Greaseball skated over to him and knelt down on one knee next to him.
Rusty lay there face down on the ground, he couldn't move.
"All better?"
He didn't answer, didn't look up, didn't move.
Greaseball bent down and forced Rusty's face up so he had to look him in the eye. "I can do worse if you decide to disobey again. Much worse."
Rusty blinked painfully as he looked at Greaseball.
"So, I suggest you be a good boy and do what you're told."
Rusty closed his eyes shamefully.
Greaseball released him hard enough to let Rusty drop firmly.
Rusty cried out in pain as he hit the ground.
Greaseball smirked. "You seem to like pain, Rusty. You know I could dish it out so much more..."
Rusty whimpered softly.

Greaseball suddenly reached down and wrapped a hand around Rusty's throat, measuring it with his fingers.
Rusty swallowed fearfully, and shivered, remember what had happened last time.
Greaseball suddenly reached into his pocket.
Rusty took a deep breath, which may have been his last full one for awhile.
Greaseball pulled something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of Rusty's eyes.
Rusty blinked, confused.
"See this?"
He looked up at Greaseball, not understanding.
"This might be for you."
"Wh?" Rusty attempted to ask.
"A collar for the little dog."
Rusty's eyes widened as he realized what it was that Greaseball was holding.
"Now, I imagine you wouldn't like that one bit, so..."

"You....you would...?"
"I might... It depends on you."
"On...on me?"
"Yes, you."
"H-how?"
"If you're a good boy..."
Rusty closed his eyes. He hated feeling like a dog.
"Then I won't make you wear it. But if you're a bad boy..."
He sighed softly.
"Then you'll have to wear this all the time."
"no."
Greaseball gave him a light smack. "Then be good."
Rusty blinked back tears.
"Ready to behave?"
He nodded, blinking quickly.
"Good." Greaseball spun the collar on his finger.

Rusty closed his eyes, but he couldn't seem to keep the tears back this time.
Greaseball watched him with a smirk.
Once a few tears had made it past his eyes Rusty couldn't stop.
Greaseball smiled to himself. "Poor puppy."
Rusty tried to stop, he really did, feeling... angry.
Greaseball got to his feet and smirked down at him. "I don't know why I think it would be fun to have such a whiny little pup like yourself work for me, but it would be fun to watch you whimper."
Rusty swallowed and tried to pull himself together.
"Not to mention, the red collar will look nice..."
"No," Rusty whispere.d
"Stop talking back!" Greaseball gave him a sharp kick to his side.
Rusty cried out and curled up.
"Are we finished with him yet?" one of the gang asked.
"I suppose."
Rusty strugged to push himself up.
Greaseball watched him.
Rusty made it to all fours and then started to get to his wheels.

Greaseball suddenly landed his skate wheels on Rusty's back, pinning him back on his stomach like a butterfly on display.
Rusty cried out as he fell.
"Good boy."
Rusty closed his eyes and looked away.
"So... what to do if you worked for me..."
"what?" Rusty asked.
"You heard me."
"W-what do you mean...work for you?" Rusty asked, feeling cold inside.
"Well, you've done it before..."
"Y-yeah..." *You tell me my routes and suff* he added silently.
"With Ashley..."
Rusty's eyes widened considerably, "Y-you mean...?"
"What?"
*No, he can't mean that. I can't. I won't.*
"What don't I mean?"
"What d-d'you mean?" Rusty asked carefully, feeling the weight of the larger engine heavily on him.
"I mean you get to be my little puppy dog slave for as long as I want."
Rusty looked horrified.
"Isn't that fun?"
No, Rusty mouthed.
Greaseball slammed his foot down hard on Rusty's back.
"Ahh!" he cried out.
Greaseball smirked.

Thunder rumbled softly in the distance.
Greaseball looked up. "Looks like you might get wet."
Rusty felt Greaseball's skate making more dents in his back and he bit back another whimper.
"Are you gonna be good?"
Rusty realized suddenly that no matter what happened, if he continued the way he was he would wind up here again and again, or maybe worse. Along with his frame under Greaseball's skate, he felt something give inside of him.
He nodded.
Greaseball smiled. "Good." He took his skate off of Rusty.
Rusty didn't move.
"You can go now, if you promise to be a good boy."
Rusty nodded again.
"Good."
Rusty closed his eyes.
"So, you can leave now."
He nodded and started to get up.
Greaseball let him get up this time.

Rusty staggered to his wheels and then fell forward, landing hard on his hands and knees.
Greaseball laughed cruelly.
Rusty blinked back tears, Greaseball's voice burning in his ears. He strugged to get back to his wheels.
Greaseball didn't make any move to help him. "Do you not want to leave now, Rusty?" he mocked.
Rusty didn't answer, finally making it upright.
Greaseball smirked.
Rusty steadied himself on the side of the trestle.
Greaseball snorted in laughter. "Having problems?"
Keeping one hand on the trestle next to him, Rusty took a step forward, and then another one.
Greaseball watched him go, pocketing the collar.
Rusty kept going, managing not to fall this time.

Greaseball turned back to his gang with a grin. "I think we're gonna have lots of fun this week, boys."
The gang members looked at each other gleefully.
Greaseball touched the collar in his pocket. "Plenty of fun."
Rusty finally made it home.

The next morning, Ashley passed by Rusty's house on her way to the diner.
Belle was just emerging from the house.
Ashley stopped and waved at her. "Hi, Belle."
"Hi," Belle said, not sounding cheerful at all.
Ashley's smile froze. "What's wrong?"
"You didn't hear then?" Belle asked.
Ashley shook her head. "No..."
Belle hesitated, "You wanna come in?"
Ashley swallowed. That didn't sound too good. She nodded slowly and moved over to Belle.
Belle led Ashley into the house and into the kitchen.
Ashley followed slowly behind. "Is something wrong?"
"Rusty came home last night..." Belle started.
Ashley nodded slowly.
"He...he never tells me exactly what happens..." Belle said, "but I can guess... I think that he ran into Greaseball."
Ashley winced. "Is he all right?"
Belle shook her head and then nodded, "He will be I think."

"Can I see him?"
She hesitated, "I guess, but don't wake him."
"Is he sleeping?"
"I hope so."
"Is he all right?"
"I...don't know. He'll heal..."
"How bad was it?"
Belle sighed softly.
"That bad?"
"I don't remember it ever being worse..."
Ashley bit her lip. "I've seen it pretty bad..."
"So've I..."
Ashley swallowed. "Will he be awake soon?"
"I don't know... I gave him something," she frowned slightly, "I don't understand, he could barely stand up this morning, but he wanted to go to work."
Ashley raised a brow. "He wanted to work?"
Belle nodded.
"Why?"
"I don't know," Belle answered.
Ashley sighed. "Poor thing."
Belle sighed softly.
"Can I see him?"
She nodded.

Ashley slowly headed for Rusty's bedroom.
Rusty was asleep. Belle had taken care of him as he was no longer covered in blood, but a few bandages. She had also stripped him down a bit so she could deal with his back. One bare arm was hanging down from the side of the bed.
Ashley slowly moved inside, careful not to make too much noise. She stared down at his beaten frame, tears filling her eyes. A soft gasp escaped her throat.
Rusty rolled over and mumbled something in his sleep.
Ashley moved closer, tears in her eyes.
Rusty was sleeping peacefully now, probably a result of whatever Belle had given him.
Ashley sat down on the bed next to him.
He shivered slightly in his sleep.
Ashley reached out and gently rubbed his bare shoulder.
He settled down again.
Ashley's fingers gently traced over the bruises and cuts that marred his soft skin.
"mm..." he mumbled sleepily.
Ashley resisted the urge to give him a massage, too afraid she would reopen the delicate scars.
He opened his eyes for a second and then closed them.
Ashley smiled gently and stroked his soft hair with her fingertips.
Rusty opened his eyes again, still half-asleep.
Ashley stroked his hair again.
He looked at her with sleep-glazed eyes.
Ashley smiled gently at him, not wanting to speak in case he wanted to sleep again.
He blinked and closed his eyes again.
Ashley sighed silently.

Rusty opened his eyes again and blinked everything into focus.
Ashley waited.
"Wh-where'm I?" he asked.
"Home."
"Oh."
"Are you feeling okay?"
He shifted position slightly, "What time is it?"
"Morning..."
"Did I oversleep?"
"No."
Rusty started to sit up.
Ashley gently pushed him back down.
"No," he said softly, "I have to-"
"No you don't."
"Yes," he insisted, sitting up again.
Ashley pushed him down harder.
"But I have to go..." he started, "Have to get up..."
"No," Ashley said firmly.
"But I'll be late."
"You're already late, but you're not going."
"But I..." Rusty sputtered, pushing the blanket away.
Ashley pushed it back. "Stop moving!"

He sighed and lay back down again on his front.
Ashley rubbed his shoulder gently.
"What'm I gonna do?" he asked.
"Sleep. You need it."
He pushed the blanket away.
Ashley pulled it back up.
He sighed and stopped fighting her.
Ashley smiled at him.
He buried his head in his arms.
Ashley gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Rusty let out his breath in a sigh.

"Rusty, what happened?"
He didn't answer.
"Will you tell me."
He was silent for a minute, "Ashley?" he asked softly.
"Yes?"
"It hurt."
"I know...."
"It hurt a lot."
"I'm sure..."
He whimpered softly, vainly trying to keep from crying again.
Ashley gave him a gentle hug.
"It...it wasn't just him this time..."
"It wasn't?"
Rusty shook his head.
"Who?"
"All...all of them, and then he..." Rusty touched his neck.
Ashley's eyes followed his fingers. "What?"
"No..." Rusty whispered.
"No what?"
"No."
"No?"
"Mm mm," he shook his head.

"What's wrong, Rusty?"
He didn't answer.
"Rusty?"
Still didn't answer, but he shivered slightly.
"Rusty, what's no?"
"Not a dog..." he mumbled.
"Of course you're not!"
He closed his eyes and curled into a ball.
Ashley rubbed his shoulder gently.
"No collar..." Rusty whispered.
"You don't have a collar, Rusty."
"No." he agreed.
Ashley rubbed his cheek gently.
"he does..."
"Greaseball?"
Rusty flinched at the name but nodded.
Ashley leaned down and gave him a gentle hug. "Shh."'

Rusty curled into her arms.
Ashley held him tightly.
He pressed up against her.
Ashley rocked him gently.
Eventually Rusty fell asleep again.
Ashley held him tight, letting him sleep.

Rusty slept on dreamlessly as Belle came into check on them.
Ashley looked up at her and motioned for her to be quiet.
Belle nodded and rolled over to the bed.
Ashley sighed softly and held Rusty tighter.
Belle brushed Rusty's hair out of his eyes.
Ashley looked sadly up at Belle.
"I know," Belle whispered, giving Ashley a hug, "I know..."
Ashley sighed and curled closer to Belle.

Rusty slept all morning and into the afternoon.
Ashley stayed there the whole afternoon, holding Rusty close.
Rusty finally awoke, really awoke to discover himself in Ashley's arms.
Ashley had dozed off a bit.
He started to detach himself from her.
Ashley blinked and opened her eyes.
He managed to wiggle out of her arms and sit up.
Ashley sat up too and stretched.
He looked at her a bit puzzled.
Ashley gazed back at him.
"What-" he started to ask.
"Yes?"
"What's going on?"
"You were sleeping."
"okay..." he said slowly.
"Are you all right?"
"I've been better..."
"I'm sure."
"Yeah..."
Ashley gave him a soft smile.

He stretched and groaned softly.
Ashley stretched too.
"When did you get here?" he asked.
"This morning."
"Oh." he looked down at himself.
"Are you okay?"
"Sore..." he answered.
"Understandable."
"Yeah," he leaned carefully back against the headboard.
Ashley pulled the blanket around his frame.
Rusty felt the blanket against his skin and all of a sudden realized something. "I don't think I can sleep anymore," he said instead.
Ashley nodded slowly.
He moved over to the edge of the bed and moved to set his skates on the floor.
Ashley pushed him back. "No."
"Why not?" he asked, not sure if he liked the feeling of her against his skin.
"You need to stay in bed."
"But-" he started to protest, and then touched his neck. "Ok."
Ashley gave him a gentle squeeze.
He sat there and let her.

"Are you all right?"
"Yeah..."
"Okay."
Rusty sighed and looked down at his new set of bruses, cuts and dents, and sighed again.
Ashley stroked his hair a moment.
He didn't react.
Ashley squeezed his shoulder gently.
He still didn't move.
"Rusty?"
"What?"
"What's wrong?"
"Apart from the obvious?"
"Something else seems wrong."
"Oh."
Ashley waited.
He didn't say anything else.
Ashley sighed softly.
Rusty just sat there.

"Rusty?"
"Yeah?"
"Rusty, are you all right?"
"I guess..."
"That's not very comforting," Ashley said gently.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not being comforting..."
"Don't be sorry. I just want to make sure you're all right."
"Oh. Okay."
"Well?"
"What?"
"Well, are you all right?"
"As much as can be expected."
"Good..."

Rusty fell silent, just sitting on his bed.
Ashley leaned over and pulled him into a gentle hug.
He didn't hug her back, but he didn't fight her either.
Ashley shifted slightly, holding him closer. She wanted him to respond, even if he pulled away.
"Thanks..." he said softly.
Ashley smiled. "That's better."
"Yeah..." he wasn't sure if he liked her up against his skin, but oh well.
Ashley's fingers gently traced over his back. "Do you still hurt?"
"A little..."
"Want me to rub your shoulders again?"
He didn't answer.
"Rusty?"
"If you want," he said finally.
"Well, I don't want to hurt you."
"I know," he said.
"So...?"
He shrugged.
Ashley sighed. "You rest."
"Okay."
Ashley pushed him down gently on the bed.
He let her.
Ashley pulled the blanket up and kissed his forehead gently.
Rusty didn't move.

"Rusty?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm..." he started, "I will be."
"Good." Ashley smiled gently at him.
He closed his eyes.
Ashley stroked his hair out of his eyes.
He lay still.
"Rusty?"
"Yes?" he didn't open his eyes.
"...Nothing."
"Okay.
Ashley squeezed his hand.
Rusty started to doze off and he squeezed her hand ever so slightly back.
Ashley smiled softly.
Rusty's hand fell away from her.
Ashley watched him sadly, then got up and skated out.

Belle looked up as Ashley came out of Rusty's room.
Ashley smiled weakly at Belle.
"How's he doing?"
"Better, I think..."
"That's good," Belle said, "He just seems... out of energy."
Ashley nodded. "Kinda run down."
"Yeah... and more so then usual."
Ashley nodded. "I noticed..."
"I don't know what to do."
"Me either..."
"Ashley, d'you think that you could stay here while I run to the store?" Belle asked.
Ashley nodded slowly. "I guess I can."
"Thanks," Belle said, "Just in case he needs anything..."
Ashley nodded.
Belle slowly stood up and got her purse.
Ashley sat down on the couch.
Belle walked briskly down the tracks on the way to the store.

Greaseball and his friends were skating along the tracks, laughing and talking loudly.
Belle looked up at him darkly and kept going.
Greaseball didn't notice.
She brushed past the engines coldly.
Greaseball glared after her.
She didn't turn around.
Greaseball turned back to his friends, his eyes glinting.
"What's up?" one of them asked.
"Nothing. Rusty prolly hasn't told her."
"And she wouldn't figure it out when she got home?" another asked skeptically.
Greaseball glared at the member, his eyes telling him to shut up.
"Sorry boss..."
"Good." Greaseball turned back to his gang. "But if he does, he'll be sorry."
"Does he tell her?"
"I don't know. But I'm sure we'll hear if he does."
"She did look pretty upset..."
"Yeah."
"Well," one of the other members crossed his arms, "what could she do about it anyway?"
"Nothing."
"So why are we worried?"
"We're not. Unless you are."
"me? of course not."
"Good. I don't want a weakling on my team."
He looked offended.
Greaseball smirked slightly.

"We've already got one of those to play with..." the gang member pointed out with a smile.
Greaseball nodded. "But he's not on our side."
"Good. More fun to beat him up..."
Greaseball nodded at him. "Yeah, and not my own members to clean up afterwards."
"Yep."
"that's right."
"Uh huh."
Greaseball smirked.
The gang members nodded in agreement.
Greaseball glanced at Belle, who was almost out of sight.
"well I'd better get going," one of them said.
The others nodded in agreement as the group broke up.
Greaseball skated off, opposite from where Belle went.

Belle emerged several minutes later from the store with a bag.
Later GB was on his way to the store.
Belle rolled past him with another dark look.
Greaseball glared back at her.
They stood there for a few seconds glaring at each other.
Greaseball crossed his arms over his chest.
"May I help you?" she asked finally.
"No."
She started to go past him.
Greaseball moved aside to let him past.
She brushed past him coldly.
Greaseball glared at her.

"Okay," she said turning around, "I know why I'm upset at you, why are you upset at me?"
"I'm not."
"Then why are you lookin' at me like that?"
"Why are you looking at ME like that?" Greaseball hissed.
"Take a guess."
"I didn't do nothin'."
"Yeah, sure you didn't."
Greaseball glared. "As if you'd believe me anyway."
"Depends on if you tell me the truth or not."
Greaseball shrugged carelessly. "Sure."
"go for it."
"Well, what do you want?"
"Take a guess why I'm not happy with you..."
"I couldn't imagine."
"Then why'd you said that I wouldn't believe you?"
Greaseball shrugged.
"Well then, I guess we don't have anything else to discuss," she said coldly.
"All right then," Greaseball said just as coldly.

Belle pushed her way past him.
Greaseball glared, catching his balance.
Belle didn't look back.
Greaseball glared and headed inside.

The next morning, despite the protests of Belle, Rusty reported to work.
Greaseball moved over to give Rusty his assignments. "Good to see you're back."
"Yeah..." Rusty said softly.
"So, because you were naughty and skipped yesterday, you get to pull the H route."
"Okay."
"Get going."
"Ok." Rusty started to go.
Greaseball gave him a sharp push to get him moving.
Rusty staggered a bit, and kept moving.
Greaseball smirked after him. "Hurry back."
"Yes sir..."
"I like that," Greaseball said, smiling.
Rusty didn't look back as he went off to fetch his train.
Greaseball headed off to hand out more routes.

Rusty was sitting on the grass eating his lunch, worn out already from all of the work he'd been doing.
Greaseball skated past him, a can of cold Coke in his hands. "You were a little slow."
"I'm sorry."
"Good. I trust you'll finish your next route in time?"
"Yes."
"Good boy."
Rusty took a drink.

"Why were you gone yesterday?"
"Belle would not let me go to work."
"Why not?"
"She wanted me to rest."
"From what?"
"From the day before."
Greaseball smirked. "Poor puppy."
Rusty didn't answer that one.

"Well, you can start your new route now." Greaseball handed him his schedule.
Rusty looked it over and nodded, packing up his lunch.
Greaseball stepped back and smirked at him, watching him.
Rusty carefully got up.
Greaseball waited.
Rusty started to move out to find his next train.
Greaseball waited til he was out of sight.

Rusty stopped at one of the water towers and closed his eyes briefly while he had his drink.
"Get moving!" Greaseball yelled at him.
"Sorry," Rusty mumbled.
"You better be."
Rusty started to go.
Greaseball watched him, making sure he went this time.
Rusty kept going to pick up his train.

Flat Top checked his watch.
Rusty pulled up to get them, right exactly on time.
Flat Top looked up and smirked. "What happened to you?"
"Greaseball."
"Enough said," Flat Top said with a smirk.
Rusty waited for them to hitch up.
Flat Top hitched onto Rusty. Caboose waited for Dustin.
Dustin silently hitched up behind Flat Top.
Caboose hitched up to Dustin. "Okay, we're ready."
Rusty went.
They all hung on tight.
Rusty gritted his teeth as he pulled them along.
Dustin frowned, something didn't feel right the way Rusty was pulling them.
Flat Top gave Rusty a nudge. "We're getting late..."
Rusty sped up slightly, a bit painfully.
Caboose hummed to himself from the back of the train.

Rusty whistled at the crossing, a dull flat note.
Flat Top flinched. "That sounded bad."
"Sorry," Rusty said automatically.
"I didn't say you had to apologize for it."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I apologized when I didn't have to."
"So?"
"So I'm sorry."
"Oh for oil's sake, stop apologizing!"
"Ok."
Flat Top went silent.
"Rusty, are you alright?" Dustin asked.
"Yes," Rusty answered.
"Are you sure?" Dustin asked again.
"Yes."
"Of course he's fine," Flat Top said. "He's pulling us, ain't he?"
"Yeah..." Dustin said slowly.
"So he's fine."
"Okay...." Dustin didn't sound convinced.
Flat Top sighed softly, bored out of his mind.

Rusty came to a stop at their stop.
Flat Top unhitched, waiting to be loaded.
Dustin stepped out of line and skated over to Rusty, concerned. The steamer was just standing there, a blank look in his eyes.
Caboose followed Dustin.
"Rusty?" Dustin asked cautiously, setting a hand on his friend's shoulder.
Caboose moved to stand in front of Rusty.
Rusty blinked in awknowledgement that the caboose was infront of him.
"You look tired," Caboose reported.
"Oh," Rusty answered.
"And sick."
"Oh."
"Is that all you're gonna say?"
"Yes."
Caboose smirked.
Dustin sighed.
Flat Top moved back to them. "Ready?"
"Yeah I guess," Dustin answered, still obviously worried about Rusty.
Flat Top hitched back up.
Dustin took his spot.
Caboose hitched back up.

Rusty moved out silently.
"Why so quiet?" Flat Top inquired.
"Why not?"
"Well, you're normally not so quiet."
"Oh."
Flat Top went silent again.
They finished the run in silence.
Flat Top stretched his hands as they came to a stop.

Rusty unhitched and started to go.
"Where you going?"
"Next run..."
"Oh."
"Unless you wanted something?"
"Not really."
"Okay," Rusty went on to his next run, nearly limping a bit.
"Are you okay?" Caboose asked.
"Yes."
"You sure? You're not skating right..."
"I'm tired."
"But you're like... limping..."
"Am I?" Rusty asked dully.
"Yes."
"Oh. I need to go... I've another train to pull."
"Okay..."
Rusty kept going, wincing a bit.
FT and Caboose watched him go.

Dustin sighed.
"What?" Flat Top asked.
"I don't like this."
"Like what?"
"The way he's acting."
"What, all invalid and stuff?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, he didn't look that great..."
"I know..."

Later that night Rusty was on his way home.
Greaseball pulled in front of him.
Rusty automatically stopped.
"You actually finished on time."
Rusty nodded.
"Good for you."
He nodded again.
"You going home?"
Another nod.
"Don't you have any voice left?"
"Yes..." he said.
"Good."
Rusty waited.

"Come with me."
Rusty nodded.
Greaseball draped a heavy arm around Rusty's slender shoulder.
Rusty blinked under the weight.
Greaseball pulled him along.
Rusty followed.
Greaseball led Rusty along the dingy tracks.
Rusty closed his eyes and followed.
Greaseball gave Rusty a shove into the center of a blank area.
Rusty staggered slightly.
Greaseball smirked.
Rusty looked up at the larger engine with dull eyes.
"Something wrong?"
He shook his head.
"You sure?"
He hesitated and then shook his head.
Greaseball smirked. "Good."
Rusty looked down at his skates, which were begining to ache.

Greaseball suddenly knocked Rusty's skates out from under him.
Rusty fell of course, landing with a thump but otherwise no sound.
Greaseball smirked. "Get up."
Rusty slowly pushed himself up.
Greaseball watched him.
Rusty made it to his wheels but didn't look up.
Greaseball smiled cruelly. "Good boy."
Greaseball's voice sounded far away to Rusty as he stood there.
"Let's go." He grabbed Rusty's shoulders and steered him towards the tracks.
Rusty closed his eyes and let Greaseball push him.

Greaseball pushed Rusty towards another set of tracks, broken and obviously in disuse.
Rusty had to watch his step so he didn't trip.
"I think you can spare some time to clean this track up before you pull your last train."
Rusty didn't answer.
Greaseball gave him a shove. "Get moving."
Rusty nodded and staggered forward slightly.
Greaseball leaned against a nearby trestle, watching him.
Rusty very slowly bent down to pull a broken piece of wood off the tracks.
"You'll be out here all night if you go that slowly."
Rusty blinked and forced himself to pick up the pace a bit.
Greaseball watched with a bemused smirk.
Rusty didn't notice, concentrating on his task.

Greaseball checked his watch. He supposed that since the work day would be over in 20 minutes he could make Rusty pull the other train tomorrow... It was pretty obvious he was beat, and there was no way he'd pull such a heavy train in his condition.
Rusty sank to his knees on the tracks, yanking up several weeds.
Greaseball smirked. "Just where you should be. On your knees."
Rusty didn't look up. He hadn't seemed to have heard.
Greaseball yawned slightly.
Rusty blinked, starting to get dizzy, but refusing to allow his body to shut down.
Greaseball stretched slightly and knelt down a bit to relax his legs.
Rusty fell forward on his hands and was still for a minute as for a few scary seconds he couldn't see.
Greaseball glanced over at Rusty.
He forced himself back into motion, but it was hard. So hard...
Greaseball watched him, wondering if he was all right.
Something made him keep going. Never mind the fact that he couldn't see straight. Vaugly he half-remembered that that might mean something... something he was supposed to do?
Greaseball went back to lounging.

Finally Rusty stopped and lay down. He had to.
Greaseball glanced over at him. "You're not finished."
He tried to get up. He really did.
Greaseball watched him struggle. The little guy was shot. He knew it.
Rusty didn't give up, but it was a lost cause. He simply could not convince his body to do what he wanted it to.
Greaseball groaned and stood up. "Oh, for oil's sake, go home."
He struggled to push himself up, but landed back on the rails with a slight carsh.
Greaseball groaned and reached over, hauling Rusty roughly to his feet.
Rusty kept his balance, barely.
"Go home. Now."
"Yes sir," Rusty answered, but it came out in a barely audible whisper.
Greaseball gave him a shove.
Rusty staggered forward.
Greaseball watched him.
Rusty made it a few feet down the tracks and then collapsed again.
Greaseball groaned. "Come on."
Rusty pushed himself up to all fours.
"Come on..."
He took a deep breath and pushed himself up.
Greaseball watched him.
Rusty took a step forward, and another one.

Greaseball forced him down the track with his hand on Rusty's shoulder.
Rusty kept going. He had to go home. Greaseball had told him to.
Greaseball gave him a shove towards home.
Rusty used the force of the push to keep going.
Greaseball watched him go, then turned and skated away.

Rusty closed his eyes and suddenly he felt himself collide with something. He opened his eyes to find himself in Belle's arms. That was fine, he supposed, closing he eyes again. Belle held the engine up and looked at him sadly.
Greaseball glanced back at them and glared slightly at Belle.
She sighed and looked at the other engine sadly.
Greaseball glared and skated off.
Half-carrying Rusty, Belle somehow got him home and into bed before he passed out completely.

This continued for several days as Greaseball worked Rusty to the point of exhaustion.
Rusty never complained, in fact he didn't seem to care. He got up every morning for work and dragged himself home to pass out at night. At the moment he was waiting to pull the coaches.
Greaseball skated past him with a smirk. "Make it quick. I have the freight train all ready to go when you get back."
"Yes Sir."
Greaseball smirked and skated away.

Rusty pulled up at the station.
Ashley was there, waiting, humming to herself.
Buffy was filing her nails. She looked up as Rusty arrived.
Ashley glanced up too, then narrowed her eyes.
Rusty pulled sliently into place and waited for them to hitch up.
Ashley moved into place behind Rusty. "Rusty, honey?"
"Yes?"
"Are you... okay...?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Rusty, it's me, Ashley."
"I know," he answered.
"You don't have to call me ma'am."
"Oh. I'm sorry. It was just...automatic."
"Why? You've never called me that before..."
"Am used to calling Greaseball sir," Rusty explained, "so..."
"Oh," Ashley said softly.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yeah..."
"Okay," Rusty let out a short unenthuesatic whistle.

"Rusty?"
He had been about to start moving, but stopped, "Yes?"
"Are you all right?"
"Yes." He started moving.
"Are you sure?"
"No."
"You're not sure?"
"Yes."
"Why not?"
"Because..." he answered dully.
"Because why?" Ashley asked gently.
He blinked, "Never mind."
"No, tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"Tell me why you're not sure you're all right."
"I said that?"
"Yes."
"Oh." He looked back at her dully, "I wasn't thinking."
"Oh..."

Rusty blinked, his eyes not focusing on her. Then he turned forward again and kept going.
Ashley held tight, wondering about the look in his eyes.
Rusty pulled her along the run in silence.
"Where have you been lately?" Ashley asked softly.
"Working."
"Isn't that a lot of work?"
He shrugged.
"Isn't it?"
Another shrug.
"Rusty..."
"Yes?"
"Aren't you tired?"
"A little."
"You look exhausted.
"Oh."
"Well, you do."
"Ok."
"Don't you feel tired?"
He shrugged.
"You look horrible..."
"Oh."
"Rusty?"
"Yes?"
"Rusty, you don't seem like yourself..."
"Oh."
"Is that all you can say? Oh?"
"No," he said.
"Then please answer me..."
"I thought I was."
"Not really..."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"Are you?"
"Yes."

Ashley gave his couplers a gentle squeeze.
he didn't respond.
Ashley squeezed harder.
Still no reaction.
"Rusty?"
He came to a stop at the station.
"Rusty?"
He turned back to look at her a bit blankly.
Ashley backed away a bit. His look scared her.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Rusty, I..."
He waited.

Ashley moved closer to him, resting her hands on his chest.
He didn't move.
Ashley leaned closer to him. "Rusty...
"yes?"
Ashley leaned in closer til they were inches apart.
He waited for her to finish what she was going to say.
Ashley slowly leaned in and touched her mouth ever so gently to Rusty's.
Rusty didn't move for a minute.
Ashley slid her arms around his neck, trying to get him to react in some way, even if it was to push her away.
Rusty still didn't move....... and then... he moved his head, parting their lips.
Ashley smiled just a bit. "There's the Rusty I know."
He blinked and suddenly there was a very faint spark behind his eyes.
Ashley smiled at him and gave him a tight, comforting hug.
He was still for a minute, and then he hugged her back.
Ashley smiled and held him tight.
He pulled away from her after a few minutes.

Suddenly Greaseball skated up behind Ashley. "That was cute."
Rusty blinked and the faint light in his eyes vanished.
Ashley whirled around to see Greaseball behind her.
He leaned over and nudged her out of the way, facing Rusty. "What are you doing?"
"I... uh..."
"I asked you a question." Greaseball grabbed Rusty by the throat.
"Hugging Ashley..." he answered meekly.
"And?"
He strugged to think of the answer that Greaseball wanted to hear, but nothing came to him.
Greaseball gave Rusty a shake, then tossed him to the ground.
Rusty landed at Greaseball's skates and was still.
Greaseball glared down at him.
Rusty didn't look up.
"Get up."
He obeyed.
"Get moving. Now!" Greaseball gave him a harsh slap across the face.
Rusty's head jerked sideways with the force of the slap and turned to go.
Greaseball gave him a sharp shove to get him moving.
Rusty sped away.
Greaseball glared after him.
Rusty didn't look back, picking up speed.

Greaseball took a shortcut to the freight yard.
Rusty arrived a few minutes later.
"You're late."
Rusty bowed his head "I'm sorry."
"You better be."
"Yes sir."
"Good. You're going to pull Caboose."
"Yes sir."
Greaseball smirked and suddenly knocked Rusty flat on his face with one kick.
Rusty let out a soft cry, which was quickly surpressed.
Greaseball smirked down at him.
Rusty sank down into the soft dirt, closing his eyes.
"Get up."
He did so.
"Come with me."
Rusty nodded.

Greaseball steered him down the track. "You're getting a little too friendly."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be. If I see that again, I'll have to remove those thoughts from your head with a few good smacks. Understand?"
"Y-yes sir..."
"Good boy."
It didn't occur to him to say something about how Ashley had started it, and the thoughts which Greaseball indended to remove weren't there in the first place.

Greaseball led Rusty over to where Caboose was impatiently waiting.
Rusty obediently moved into place.
Caboose hitched up behind him, giving a small smile to Greaseball.
Rusty didn't notice, but then again, he wasn't noticing much of anything.
Caboose gave Rusty a nudge. "Any time you're ready."
Rusty let out his flat sounding whistle and moved out.
"That seemed pretty weak," Caboose remarked pleasantly.
Rusty didn't answer, moving along.
Caboose hummed softly to himself as they went.
Rusty didn't notice, not thinking, just moving.
"So, where we going?" Caboose asked.
Rusty fished out the route sheet from his pocket and handed it back to the caboose.
"Got my hands full," Caboose remarked.
"Oh."
Caboose smiled sweetly.
Rusty kept going.
Caboose followed, testing the tracks beneath him.

Rusty picked up speed slightly.
Caboose smiled to himself.
Rusty kept going.
Caboose glanced over his shoulder, then prepared to step on the brakes...
Rusty headed around a curve in the tracks.
Caboose waited til they had sped up again, then hit the brakes- hard.
Rusty practically flew off the tracks.
Caboose disconnected just in time.
Rusty fell and rolled down a small incline, slamming against a shed. He hit his head hard and everything went black.
Caboose smirked to himself. That went better than he expected. Well, better go find Greaseball... He turned and skated off, leaving Rusty behind.
Rusty, as he was rather out of it, didn't realize what was happening, but his body took the welcome chance to rest.
Caboose reported the whole thing to Greaseball who went to go find Rusty.
Rusty hadn't moved, not even making steam anymore.

Greaseball knelt next to Rusty and gave him a sharp nudge.
The steamer didn't move.
Greaseball groaned. "Well, I'm not moving you."
Rusty, obviously, wasn't aware of this.
Greaseball got up and headed down the tracks.
Rusty's fire slowly started to go out.

After a few minutes, Ashley came down the tracks.
Rusty let out a weak stream of steam as he nearly started to come around.
Ashley dove to Rusty's side with a screech. "Rusty!"
Rusty sank further into unconsiousness.
"Rusty!" Ashley gave him a shake. "Wake up!"
He didn't.
Ashley looked up, looking around in a panic for someone.

At just that moment Dustin was walking along the tracks with Flat Top.
Flat Top glanced up. "Isn't that Ashley?"
"Yeah," Dustin said, "What's she doin' over 'ere?"
Flat Top shrugged.
Dustin took a few steps closer to her and his eyes widened when he realized what she was bent over, or more accurately, who.
"What?" Flat Top asked.
Dustin ran towards Ashley.

Ashley looked up. "Dustin, help me!"
He dove down next to her, "What happened?"
"I don't know!"
"Rusty?" Dustin asked gently, "Rusty, wake up."
The steamer didn't move.
Ashley looked up teary-eyed. "What do we do?"
Dustin shook Rusty gently, but got no response. "I...I dunno..." he said, looking rather shaken himself.
Ashley began to sob. "We have to wake him up...
Dustin bit his lip and looked around.
Ashley looked around too.
"Well... I guess we should get him home," Dustin said finally.
Ashley nodded slowly.
"Okay," Dustin looked over at Flat Top for help.
Flat Top nodded and slowly moved to Rusty's side.
"Help me lift him," Dustin requested.
Flat Top knelt down and tried to lift Rusty up.
Dustin managed to get him off the ground with Flat Top 's help.
Ashley hovered nearby, sobbing
"Okay, let's go," Dustin said.
Flat Top nodded and helped him lead Rusty down the tracks.

Rusty lay limply in Dustin's arms as they slowly headed towards his house.
"Is he all right?" Ashley whimpered softly.
"I dunno..." Dustin answered honestly.
Ashley began to sob. "Will Poppa help him?"
"I hope so."
Ashley smiled weakly.
"At least he's still breathing," Dustin said.
Ashley nodded slowly.
"nearly there..." Dustin said, although to who it was it wasn't clear.
Ashley gripped Dustin's arm tightly.
Dustin hesitated at the porch, he couldn't exactly open the door.
Ashley darted past him, shoving the door open hard.

They got Rusty into the living room and on to the couch.
Ashley dropped next to him, rubbing his hands. "Rusty..."
Rusty's breathing was strong, despite the fact that he still didn't wake.
Ashley looked up at Dustin. "What do we do?"
"I don't know," he said again, feeling just as helpless as she did.
Ashley began to cry.
Dustin backed away slightly, giving her room.
Ashley looked up at him. "Find Poppa."
He nodded, "C'mon FT..."
Flat Top nodded and silently followed after Dustin.

Dustin looked back at Ashley once more and then headed out the door, holding it for Flat Top.
Flat Top followed him.
"Did you see him?" Dustin asked once they were outside, "He looked..."
"Dead."
"yeah...." Dustin said softly.
Flat Top sighed. "Come on."
"Where d'you think Poppa is?"
"I don't know..."
"Well... come on... let's split up."
"Okay... I'll check the dining hall."
Dustin nodded and headed off the other way.
Flat Top raced for the dining hall. They had to find Poppa...
Dustin headed off the other way as fast as he could manage.

Meanwhile, Ashley was rubbing Rusty's hands, shaking him, trying to get him to wake up.
Rusty suddenly let out a burst of steam.
Ashley yelped and tumbled backwards.
Rusty coughed and his eyes fluttered open.
"Rusty?"
He blinked and slowly his eyes focused.
Ashley smiled at him.
He looked completely confused.
"Are you okay?"
"where am I?"
"Home."
"Home? What time is it?"
"Late."
"How late?" he attempted to move to look at his watch.
"Like 9."
"Oh..." he looked as if he was trying to figure out if that was okay or not.
"What happened?"
"I... don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No... I'm sorry."
"Don't be..."
"Ok."
Ashley smiled gently.

"How'd I get here?"
"Dustin and Flat Top carried you."
"They...what? why?"
"Cause you wouldn't wake up."
"I what??"
"You wouldn't wake up."
"I... wouldn't wake up?"
"Yeah."
Rusty rubbed his head, "I don't remember..."
"Did you hit your head or something?"
"I don't remember doing that..."
"What DO you remember?"
"I..." he attempted to remember, "I left you..."
"Yes?"
"went to the freight yard..."
"Yeah...?"
"I was...pulling...caboose..."
"Pulling Caboose?"
"Yeah... and that's all I remember..."
"That's all?"
"that's all."
"What happened to Caboose?"
"I... don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No."

Ashley leaned in closer and reached behind Rusty's head, feeling a large bump on the back of his head.
He winced slighly, but tried to surpress it.
"Does that hurt?"
"Yes."
"Did you bump your head?"
He almost had an expression. "I guess so."
"You guess so?"
"I don't remember!"
"Shh!"
"Sorry..."
"It's okay."
Rusty relaxed.

Ashley squeezed his hand gently.
He didn't react.
"Rusty?"
"Here."
"I know..."
"Ok."
"Do you need anything?"
"No."
"You sure?"
He shrugged.
"Water?"
"Sure..."
Ashley got up and headed for the kitchen.
Rusty sighed softly.
Ashley came back with a glass of water.
Rusty was staring at the ceiling.
Ashley held out the glass to him.
It took a minute to realize that she was there and then he took it.
Ashley smiled gently at him.
He watched her for a minute as if making sure it was okay for him to drink and then he did so.
Ashley knelt back down next to him.
He held the empty glass as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with it.
Ashley reached out and gently pried the glass out of his fingers.
He let her take it.
Ashley took it back to the kitchen.
Rusty rubbed his head again, trying to remember if he was in trouble or not.

Ashley came back in and sat down next to him.
Rusty blinked at her.
Ashley stroked his cheek gently with the back of her fingers.
He didn't move.
"Are you all right now?"
He nodded.
"You sure?"
"No."
Ashley sighed.
He sat there.
"Do you need some ice for your head?"
He shrugged.
"Do you?" Ashley prodded.
Another shrug.
"Rusty..."
"Yes?"
"Do you need some ice?"
"I guess..."
"Okay." Ashley stood up and headed for the kitchen again.
Rusty closed his eyes.
Ashley returned with an icepack.
He had dozed off.
Ashley gently slid the ice pack under his head.
He winced slightly at the cold.
Ashley stroked his hair back gently.
Rusty sighed softly.

"Are you all right?"
"No."
"What's wrong?"
"No..." he said again.
"What?"
"No complaining," he said.
"You're not complaining."
"Not allowed."
"You can complain, Rusty."
"No complaining, no whining, no aruging," he sounded rather like he was reciting.
Ashley leaned over and gave him a tight hug.
"Not allowed...." he whispered.
"Who told you that?"
"Hurts too much otherwise..."
"Rusty..."
"And no talking back," he added.
"Rusty..."
He waited.
"Who said that?"
"Greaseball."
"He said that to you?"
"Sorta..."
"Sorta?"
"not all at once."
"No?"
"But that's what he wants," Rusty said simply.
"Why?"

"He got a collar..." Rusty said.
"A collar?"
"For me."
"Why???"
"To wear probably," he answered without much intrest.
"Rusty!"
"Unless I'm good."
"Rusty, why did Greaseball do that to you?"
"I don't know. Because I was bad."
"What did you do?"
"Don't remember. Probably aruged.
"And he would threaten you like that?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Dunno."
"For no reason?"
"No..."
"Why?"
"I argued, talked back, didn't show proper respect, was late..." Rusty said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"But.. but he can't threaten you for that!"
"He doesn't usually..."
"Usually?"
"No. Not threats. Just hits."
"He hit you?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"Don't keep track..."
Ashley's eyes widened. "That much?
He shrugged, "Not something that I want to remember..."
"I believe you..."
"Ok."

Ashley squeezed his hand.
He didn't react.
"Rusty?"
"yes?"
"You don't seem right."
"Oh."
"You seem... quiet..."
"Oh."
"Very quiet..."
"Oh." He started to slowly sit up.
Ashley supported him.
He started to stand up.
"Where are you going?"
"To bed."
"Okay."
He got to his wheels and nearly lost his balance. He recovered and started towards his room.
Ashley moved to help him.

With a little help from Ashley he made it to his room.
Ashley helped to lower him on the bed.
He settled down and then rolled over and reached for his alarm clock.
"What are you doing?"
"Setting my clock..."
"Why?"
"So my alarm goes off."
"Why?"
"So I get up in time," he had set it to a rediculusly early hour and set it back down.
Ashley grabbed it. "No."
"What?"
"You're not getting up that early! You shouldn't even be getting up!"
He flinched slightly at her tone.
"You are hurt!"
He blinked.
"You can't work like this!"
He opened his mouth to aruge, and then remembered that he wasn't supposed to.
Ashley stroked his cheek gently.
He closed his mouth.

"Rusty..."
He looked up at her.
"You are hurt."
He nodded obediently.
"You are not going to work tomorrow."
He blinked and struggled not to say anything.
"You're hurt."
"yes ma'am," he said, as if it had been a command.
Ashley looked hurt. "Rusty..."
"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean..." Just for a second he had a real expression in his eyes.
Ashley smiled gently.
He blinked and his eyes were blank again.
Ashley stroked his hair like a mother.
He closed his eyes.
"Does your head still hurt?"
"not really..."
"Okay."
He closed his eyes and started to doze.
Ashley smiled gently.
Rusty's breathing became even as he fell asleep.

Ashley sat down on the bed, waiting for Poppa to come home.
Rusty opened one eye slightly to see if she was still there.
Ashley sat still.
He closed his eyes again. the front door of the house opened and closed.
Ashley looked up hopefully.
Poppa stuck his head into the room.
Ashley motioned him over.
He silently rolled over to her.
Ashley pointed to the bump on the back of Rusty's head.
"What happened?" the older steamer whispered.
"Greaseball, I think..."
He sighed, "It always is."
Ashley nodded. "He can't remember."
"If he hit his head that hard I'm not surprised."
Ashley nodded.
Poppa sighed, "Come on..."
"Where?"
"Let him sleep.."
"Okay."
Poppa led Ashley towards the door.
Ashley slowly followed.
He stepped out into the hallway.
Ashley followed, closing the door behind her.
As soon as he heard the door shut, Rusty opened his eyes, rolled over and set his alarm.
Ashley sighed softly.
Poppa sat down at the table with Belle.

The next morning Rusty woke with his alarm clock and sleepily started gettting ready. Then, without too much thought, he climbed out of his window and went to work.
Ashley slept peacefully at her home.
As proof that he was indeed thinking, Rusty did not whistle as he passed the coaches' house, as he usually did.
Ashley slept on, not even hearing Rusty pass.
Rusty kept going, he had a bit of a headache, but nothing too serious.

Greaseball was chatting with his friends further down the track, his back to Rusty.
Rusty kept his head down as he headed towards the freight yard.
Greaseball turned around and spotted him. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Rusty didn't look up.
Greaseball pushed past his friends and moved in front of Rusty.
Rusty came to a automatic stop.
"Feeling better, I see."
"Yes sir."
"Good. You really messed up the routes yesterday, being out."
"I'm sorry."
"You better be."
Rusty hung his head.
"Don't think you're going to get off any easier today because you got hurt."
He nodded.
"Good." Greaseball began to steer him towards the freight yard.
Rusty let Greaseball move him.
"I should make you finish your route with Caboose."
"Oh."
"I was expecting a yes sir..."
"Sorry..."
Greaseball smirked.

Rusty waited for orders.
"But since he's on another route, I think we'll wait." Greaseball handed Rusty his routes.
Rusty nodded and blinked a few times, then studied his routes.
Greaseball watched him.
Rusty looked up to make sure it was alright to go.
Greaseball nodded and waved his hand to dismiss Rusty.
Rusty reversed and started to go around the other engine.
Greaseball didn't move, but he let him pass.
Rusty mechanically went through his runs.

Ashley was out on a run when she saw Rusty going past.
Rusty didn't notice her.
"Rusty!" Ashley called.
He looked up briefly.
"Rusty!" Ashley said, disconnecting from her train and racing over.
He looked at her dully.
"Rusty, you weren't supposed to work today!"
"I work every day..." he answered.
"But you were hurt."
"I can work..." he said.
"No..."
He nodded.

Ashley grabbed his arm and gave him a slight shake. "Rusty..."
"Yes?"
"You're going home."
"Not time yet...."
"It doesn't matter!"
He blinked and looked at his watch.
Ashley blocked it with her hand. "No."
He blinked and looked at her puzzled.
"Come on."
He looked as if he was trying to decide to protest or not.
Ashley pulled him down the track.
He let her.
Ashley yanked him around a corner and headed for his house.
Rusty suddenly pulled free from her.
Ashley looked up at him in surprise.

"Have to work," he said clearly.
"No." Ashley grabbed his wrist again.
"But-"
"No," Ashley said firmly.
"But-" he didn't sound as sure of himself this time.
Ashley didn't let him answer, pulling him hard.
Rusty nearly lost his balance.
Ashley kept him steady, pulling him a little easier.
The rough treatment reminded him that he wasn't supposed to argue.
Ashley squeezed his hand and pulled him along the tracks.
Rusty silently followed along.
Ashley led him towards his house.
He followed.
Ashley paused outside his door.
He did as well.

"You are going to sleep," Ashley said gently.
He didn't answer, didn't look up.
"Rusty?"
"yes?"
"Are you all right?"
"No."
"What's wrong?"
"Not supposed to be here now..."
"You need sleep."
"At night..."
"No, now."
He looked up at her.
"You are going to sleep," Ashley said firmly.
"Yes ma'am."
"Rusty, don't call me that."
"Sorry."
"It's okay."
"Ok."
"Come on."
"Yes m-" he stopped himself.

Ashley sighed and opened the door to his house.
He waited.
Ashley led him inside.
He followed
Ashley closed the door.
Rusty stood there just inside the house, waiting for directions.

Ashley glanced back at him. "Rusty?"
He looked up at her.
"Come on..."
He obeyed.
Ashley opened the door to his room.
He glanced at her and then went inside.
Ashley watched him go in.
He stopped in the center of the room.
"Rusty?"
He looked at her.
"What's wrong?"
"What did you want me to do?"
"Sleep."
Rusty sat down on his bed,
Ashley nodded.
Then he lay down.
Ashley smiled and moved to pull the blankets over him.
He lay still.
Ashley smiled gently. "Sleep."
He didn't return the smile, closing his eyes.
Ashley stroked his hair gently.
He didn't react.
Ashley squeezed his hand gently.
Still no reaction.

"I wish you weren't like this, Rusty."
He opened his eyes puzzled.
"You're not... not right..."
"Oh?" he asked dully.
"Yeah. You... you're too dazed..."
"Oh."
"And... and you seem... kinda dead..."
"Oh."
"Well, you do."
"Oh."
"Rusty?"
"Yes?"
"Are you all right?"

"M... may I ask you a quesiton?" he asked very softly.
"Of course."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you keep asking me that?"
"Because you don't seem all right."
"then why ask?"
"Because I want to hear from you."
"I'm... I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No. I don't."
"Why not?"
"Because, it doesn't matter."
"Why not?"
"Because it doesn't."
"Rusty, tell me why not."
"I don't know why," he said, "I just know it doesn't."

"Do you feel like you deserve this?"
He shrugged.
"Do you?"
"Dunno..."
"Rusty..."
"But I don't know..."
"Why don't you?"
"Because it just is."
"What is?"
"I don't know.... I'm sorry... I forgot what we were talking about."
"If you feel that you deserve this?"
"Deserve what?"
"Whatever's happening to make you this way."
"I dunno... I guess..."
"Why?"
"Well..." he hesitated, and then closed his eyes.
"Yes?" Ashley asked gently.
"I haven't gotten beaten up in two weeks," he said softly.
"I know, but... something's happened to you."
"Yeah..." he said softly.
"What is it?"
"I didn't want him to hurt me anymore..." Rusty started.
Ashley nodded slowly.
"And now... he's not."
"Why not?" Ashley prompted gently.
"He hasn't."
"But why not?"
"Because of... how I am not. He likes it."
"So he doesn't hurt you beacause you're quiet?"
Rusty nodded.
"But why are you quiet?"
"so that he doesn't hurt me."
"Did you choose to be so quiet?"
He nodded again, and then shrugged.
Ashley squeezed his hand. "That doesn't mean you have to be quiet around everyone else."
"Oh."

Ashley tipped his chin up so he had to look into her eyes.
He looked at her dully.
"Rusty?"
"Yes?"
"What's wrong?"
He closed his eyes.
"Tell me..."
"He's..." Rusty started, "Tomorrow..."
"Tomorrow he's what?"
"To make up for today..."
"What about today?"
"Didn't work this afternoon, have to make up for it tomorrow..."
"No."
"Not what he'll say..."
"I'll talk to him."
Rusty swallowed.
"What?"
He took a breath and forced himself back into his "normal" state.
Ashley squeezed his hand gently.
"He'll be mad," Rusty said softly.
"I'll talk to him."
"He'll be mad," Rusty repeated.
"Shh."
He obedently hushed.
Ashley stroked his hair gently.

Rusty stared off into space.
"Rusty, is there anything you want to say?"
"He... not supposed to..." Rusty started.
"What?"
"Told me not to talk to you..." Rusty said reluctantly.
"You can talk to me," Ashley said, a bit angrily, not towards Rusty but Greaseball.
"Ye-es," Rusty said, "But not a lot..."
"Why not?"
"He told me not to."
"Don't let him tell you who you can and cannot talk to, Rusty."
"Not not talking I guess..." Rusty said, "Just... he got mad when... he came and you were hugging me."
Ashley glared. "He's probably just jealous, Rusty."
Rusty shrugged, "Not supposed to be with coaches now."
"Why not?"
"He said so."
"Why?"
"Dunno... I don't ask."
"Well, you should!"
"No..." Rusty's eyes actually showed an emotion, fear.
Ashley blinked and gazed into Rusty's eyes. "Rusty..."
"No," he repeated.
"Why not?"
"Hurts."
"What hurts?"
"If I ask or complain, or argue...."
"He hurts you?"
"He will."
"He hasn't yet?"
"No... he has."
"What did he do?"
"Different things... remember last time?"
"Yeah..."
Rusty nodded.

"Has he done that again?"
"No."
"Has he hurt you some other way?"
"Not too bad..."
"What?"
"Not too bad," Rusty repeated.
"Rusty... you're exhausted..."
He shrugged.
"Well, you are."
"Oh."
"You are..."
"But I can still work..."
"No..."
"I *can*," Rusty said, "No matter how tired... still do it." His tone may have sounded a bit like.... pride.
"Rusty, you're going to kill yourself."
"No."
"Yes."
"Won't."
"Will."
He blinked, suddenly realizing that he was arguing.
Ashley sighed softly.

Rusty reverted back to her original order and closed his eyes.
Ashley stroked his hair gently, then his cheek.
He didn't move.
Ashley rubbed his shoulder gently, then his neck...

Despite his protests, Ashley was right, Rusty was exhausted and he fell asleep.
Ashley kept rubbing his back gently until she was sure he was asleep.
Rusty whimpered softly in his sleep.
"Shh," Ashley cooed, rubbing his back softer.
He whimpered again softer, very sadly.
"Shh now," Ashley prompted gently.
A few tears made their way from his closed eyes.
Ashley brushed them away with her fingertips.
Rusty looked so sad as he slept.
Ashley leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over Rusty's forehead.
Rusty shivered in his sleep and then finally settled down.
Ashley sighed softly.
Rusty rolled over towards her.
Ashley smiled and cuddled him close to her.
He shivered in her arms and then relaxed.
Ashley held him close.
Rusty slept fitfully all afternoon.
Ashley stayed by his side, holding him and rubbing his tired shoulders that she could tell were overly worked and would hurt for a long time to come.

Eventually he woke.
Ashley was dozing softly, still rubbing Rusty's back.
He looked at her confused.
Ashley yawned and blinked, opening her eyes.
he looked up at her.
Ashley smiled softly at him. "Hi."
"Hi."
"Sleep well?"
"I guess..."
"You guess?"
"Yeah."
"Why do you just guess?"
He shrugged.
"Rusty..."
"I dunno..."
Ashley sighed. "You're not making this very easy."
"I'm sorry."
Ashley sighed and shook her head.

"May I get up?" he asked meekly.
"Of course."
He moved out of her arms and sat up.
Ashley sat up too.
Rusty stood and started towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Bathroom?"
"Oh, okay."
Rusty nodded and headed down the hallway.
Ashley laid back on the bed with a sigh.

A few minutes later Rusty returned.
Ashley looked up and smiled at him.
He didn't return the smile.
"You need anything?"
"No."
"You sure?"
He nodded and sighed softly.
Ashley moved so he could sit back down.
He obediently sat down.
Ashley rubbed his arm gently.
"I wonder..." he started.
"What?"
"If I should go now and work tonight, or just wait until tomorrow night..."
"Rusty, you need to relax."
He didn't seem to hear, "I wonder which he'll prefer..."
"Rusty..."
"If I go back to sleep now..." he said thoughtfully.
"You go to sleep."
"Then maybe I won't need as much tomorrow..."
Ashley sighed.
He nodded, having decided.

Ashley squeezed his hand.
"Is...is that okay?" he asked her.
"Is what okay?"
"If I go back to sleep now until tomorrow..."
Ashley nodded.
"Ok."
Ashley sighed.
Rusty lay back down again, "Then maybe I won't need to sleep tomorrow."
"You'll have to sleep," Ashley said softly.
"If I can..." he answered, "If he lets me."
"I'll make sure he lets you."
"He... might get mad," Rusty whispered.
"No."
"He might..."
"No."
"how do you know?" he asked
"Because I won't let him."
"Okay..." he didn't sound convinced.
Ashley gave him a soft hug.
He closed his eyes.
Ashley held him tight.
Rusty went to sleep in her arms again
Ashley sighed silently. He was worn out.

Belle peeked into the room, "how's he doing?" she asked.
"He's sleeping."
"Good, he needs it."
Ashley nodded.
Belle sighed softly, she also looked tired.
Ashley sighed softly. "How long has he been this... submissive?"
"About a two weeks now," Belle said with a sigh, "Ever since the last time that Greaseball...yeah."
Ashley sighed softly. "Poor Rusty."
"He even acts like this with me and Poppa..."
"He does?"
Belle sighed, "Yeah..."
Ashley sighed. "Rusty..."
"I know," Belle said, "I hate it too."
Ashley nodded.
"And I've tried everything I can think of, and any time that I think I'm making progress he sees Greaseball and just...reverts."
"Isn't there any way to keep him away from Greaseball?"
"Not really... our yard isn't that big."
"I know..."
"But we've got to figure something out..."
"Yeah. He can't go on like this, Belle."
"I know," Belle agreed.
Ashley sighed softly.