Chapter Text
After that disastrous crash of the final race - where CB, Greaseball, and Electra ended up in a crumpled mess - they were fixed up as best as they could be, the whole blame for the incident falling upon CB and CB alone, despite Greaseball and Electra being the main cause of the crash with their fighting, they had pointed their fingers, and CB got the blame.
No matter how much CB denied, begged, pleaded, and explained, no one would listen to what he had to say. Why would they? He crashed Rusty, he crashed Shinkansen, he attempted to sabotage so many others, not to mention working with both Greaseball and Electra to sabotage each other.
No one believed him and he didn’t blame them.
Once fixed, Greaseball and Electra had left the shed, leaving CB alone and in the care of Wrench, all under the watchful eye of Control.
CB’s damage was more severe than both Greaseball’s and Electra’s. He was made of wood, unlike the others made of steel.
Most of his wooden body was crushed under the weight of them, any metal twisting and bending as they fell, his headset had let off a high pitched screen, bursting his ear drums and making him go deaf.
How he managed to survive was anyone’s guess. Perhaps Starlight had a reason for it, perhaps CB was just a little lucky, or maybe it was karma.
With a new set of legs, and his wooden frame rebuilt, along with a pair of shiny hearing aids, CB was as good as new, in looks only. Frame repainted red and bruises and cuts healing.
He was given a script of pain medication and instructions on how to care for his injuries, after all, it was still new and it would take months of healing for him to live without extreme pain.
With that, he was promptly swept away to Control’s office, the caboose unable to look at any of the freight or steamers as he rolled by, head down and eyes staring at the ground. The unfamiliar feeling of guilt filled his stomach, mixing around uncomfortably with his growing dread.
He knew Control was going to punish him for what happened.
With a harsh telling off followed by several firm warnings, CB had his radio taken away and then CB was sent to the box, the door locking behind him and for once CB was truly alone.
It was dark, the only light visible was from the keyhole, and it a very small spot of light.
It was just ‘for a few weeks’ is what Control had told him, just until he ‘learnt his lesson’ is what Control said. Then he would be let out and could apologise.
As CB slowly rolled further into the small area, he slumped against a wall, letting gravity pull him to the floor. Pulling his legs close, he closed his eyes, resting his head on his knees.
“Just for a few weeks, huh?” He whispered into the empty room. “Just until Control lets me out. You can do this CB, it’s just a few weeks.” He muttered, attempting to soothe himself from the dread that was building up.
It had been exactly 2 years, 3 months and 8 days since the fateful final race and crash, all other races put off for several years due to the damage and injuries of the racers and the track.
As for Rusty, although he healed nicely, he had to take things slower and take lighter work. The crash caused by CB damaged his legs and back but it wasn’t found until after, and by then it was too late, the steam engine was left with permanent injuries.
He rolled slowly into the yard, waving to the coaches who were sat gossiping, whispering and giggling with each other.
“Hey Rusty!” Dinah cooed happily. “Come take a break for a moment! Don’t want you pushing yourself too much!”
Rusty rolled his eyes playfully. “You act like I’m going to drop dead Dinah, but sure, I’ll take a break. Just for five minutes though, got that?” He hummed, going over and sitting between Pearl and Ashley.
“So what’s the gossip today, ladies?” He asked, wrapping his arms around the two coaches and hearing them all laugh.
“Rusty you charmer!” Belle cooed teasingly before turning more somber. “We were just talking about the final race… all that has happened and how we’re doing.”
Rusty sighed at that, closing his eyes. “Well, for starters none of us died so that’s one thing…” and he frowned, thinking back to it all. He wasn’t sure how he came out mostly unharmed, Greaseball and Electra getting the worst of it all, as well as CB
Was Starlight at fault for it all? Some sort of fucked up divine intervention? Rusty wasn’t sure if he’d like the answer if he ever got one.
Greaseball had healed well, although the diesel was unable to race ever again. His damage was extensive, and he wasn’t broken enough to be converted to electric (he didn’t want to be converted anyway), but he would never race again.
He was just glad to be alive and to be with Dinah.
As for Electra, he had healed almost as good as new. Perhaps being electric and the ‘future’ was better for once. They had all the parts he needed and in no time, he was complete. No physical scars, but mental ones.
“We all lived and we moved forward, we’re doing alright.” He said with a tight smile, eyes looking to the ground. “It could’ve been worse for all of us.”
The coaches began to chat to each other in agreement, nodding their heads and voicing their opinions. Rusty was right. They were all living and that’s what mattered.
Buffy shook her head slowly, also letting out a sigh. “It was such a horrible thing to watch. So many engines and freight and coaches injured. Even that little caboose.”
“Oh yeh. What happened to him anyway?” Pearl asked softly. “One minute he was being fixed and then the next he went to see Control and that was that.”
“He probably skipped yards again, like that other caboose, BV or whatever he called himself.” Ashley hummed, lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag of it.
Dinah frowned. “It’s not like CB to just skip town though, is it? He’s never done that before ever.” She mumbled, trying to defend the caboose who she thought was her friend.
Rusty stayed quiet, letting the other coaches talk around him, discussing their own theories and thoughts about the red caboose who they remembered so fondly before the incident.
He remembered CB being called into a meeting with Control, and the meeting lasting several hours. A punishment was given out, his name taken off the work roster, and then that was it.
Where was the caboose?
His jaw soon dropped open and then closed again, opening and closing more and more, like a fish out of water. His eyes widened, filling with fear and confusion and dread, his stomach churned and he felt sick.
It couldn’t be true.
“Oh my Starlight.”
It just couldn’t be true. Rusty didn’t want to believe it.
“Control never let him out.”