and i want you so badly, but you could be anyone
Slick had spent a sleepless night in the repair shed, alternating by being checked up on by Wrench and reminiscing. Wrench had finally given the all clear to start moving around the shop- slowly- so all she could do not was move gingerly around the room (her leg fucking hurt) and think. She would never tell Momma but if- and it was a strong if- the Starlight Express were real, she thought it might have sent Momma to her old yard. Slick didn’t realize until much later just how close she had come to being scrapped- but Momma had. Momma had, and had made the decision to take her and raise her on the spot.
That didn’t mean everything was magically ok though. You could take the girl out of the yard, but you couldn’t take the yard out of the girl. Some part of her, she thought, had never left that scrap-heap shelter, with the cratered and pitted metal that would not withstand another storm. Some part of her was still curled up in there, freezing and waiting and hoping that she would finally be good enough to be worthwhile.
She wondered if Hydra was the same. Was some part of him still stuck in the testing facility, where the scientists and engineers didn’t care about him beyond whether or not he functioned? Where there were empty walls and barren practice yards, and constantly being told that should something go wrong, he wouldn’t be missed, just replaced?
For his sake, she hoped not. He had enough shit on his plate. She hoped Rusty had gotten to him, and had somehow talked him out of his spiral. She hoped Rusty had talked to Porter and Lumber, too. She hadn’t spoken to them properly since before the final race. They had both been angry with her- she hadn’t told them exactly who they were crashing in fact may have purposely implied it was Electra. They had been so, so angry.
The very last thing Porter had said to her before everything was to yell at her as he and Lumber had skated off- how she was a horrible sister who didn’t deserve their help, and that they were going to tell Rusty everything they had done.
It’s not like he was wrong, and she knew that she deserved it. But after the crash, and Rusty’s words about just how bad it had been, and how scared everyone was- she really, really wanted her brothers. She could use one of Lumber’s pine-scented hugs, or even deal with the soot-marks Porter’s fingers left absolutely everywhere- she just wanted them here.
She was roused from her musings by the door banging open, and Dinah of all people entering the room. Slick stifled a groan. The dining car was the absolute last person she wanted to deal with on a good day, and this was not one. The car in question lit up when she saw her, however, and rolled over, stopping a few paces away as Slick turned to face her. Strange.
“Good morning!” she said cheerfully.
“Good morning,” Slick, exhausted and sore, could only respond in kind. Apparently, her default when faced with politeness was…more politeness. Momma would be proud. Cautiously, Slick continued, “uh- is everything alright?”
“Of course it is! Well- I suppose everything can’t be, if we’re in the repair shop, but that can’t be avoided at the moment. But I’ve heard misery loves company!” Stars, was Dinah ever anything less than exuberant? No one should have this much energy.
“Is Greaseball hurt again or something? Are you?” Slick tried again. Why was Dinah here? Maybe waiting for Wrench?
“Oh no, nothing like that! I was actually here to see you- after yesterday’s commotion, I figured I’d come by later and check on you, make sure you were alright.” She smiled, and Slick was reminded of something she had said yesterday- they wouldn’t let us in to see you earlier. This wasn’t the first time she had come to see Slick- but why? They weren’t exactly close- or friends. The freight trains. Forty tons of empty chrome. Slick swallowed down the sting. Stupid coaches. Still, it was nice of her to visit- none of the other coaches or engines had.
Dinah blushed and looked down at her hands clasped in front of her, and Slick suddenly realized how long she had been silent, and that she had definitely been staring.
“Well, thanks for checking in,” said Slick awkwardly. “Is there anything you wanted to talk about or-whoa!”
She had turned away, to continue skating (and to avoid Dinah’s gaze), but as she did, her injured leg buckled, and she started to topple over.
“Slick!”
No sooner had she began to fall than she felt hands on her arms as Dinah grabbed her and kept her upright. Her back was not so lucky however, and she fell back into the coach. Her back lit up in pain, and she held onto Dinah’s arms (her hand was not happy), the only thing keeping her upright.
“Thank you” she gasped out.
There was the barest huff of a laugh. “No problem. How about we get you off of the leg for a bit, yeah?”
As much as Slick hated to admit it, Dinah had a point- she didn’t want to injure it further by overworking it. Wrench had said that she could leave today, but she might change her mind if she managed to undo all of the repair truck’s work. Reluctantly, she accepted Dinah’s help, and the dining car kept a firm grip on her as she helped settle Slick back on the workbench.
She didn’t know what Greaseball saw in her. Well, yes she did. She probably would like Dinah too, if it weren't for the fact that she was dating Greaseball. Greaseball, who certainly couldn’t do better, but could do different. Maybe. Back off girls, she’s mine! Yes, thank you, memory-Dinah. She got it.
This was the longest Slick had ever spent one-on-one with Dinah, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was nice that the dining car had come in to check on her, she supposed- but what did she want? It left her conflicted, struggling to reconcile her contradicting impressions of Dinah. Which one was real? The sweet, helpful Dinah who wanted to make sure she was okay? Or the Dinah who would tease the freights with the coaches, laughing behind their backs about how they were dumb for not being pretty pristine people-pleasing cars?
“By the way, I don’t know what you said to Greaseball in here yesterday, but she was asking about you after.” Dinah said casually, settling into the chair Rusty had vacated last night as though she hadn’t just blown Slick’s entire world to pieces. She saw Slick’s face and giggled.
"Hey, I’d be flattered if I were you. She normally doesn’t look twice at trains that aren't competing engines,” She winked, “and yours truly, of course.”
Slick smiled back weakly. “Of course.” She echoed and Dinah beamed. She tried for a joke, “I guess I’m just special like that.”
“You most certainly are.” What did that mean? Dinah was still smiling at her, then flushed, as she seemed to realize that this time, she had been the one staring. She looked away, turning to rummage through her pack.
“Anyways, I made this for you,” she presented Slick with a yellow and black thermos, “It’s nothing special, just some tea, but when I’m feeling down a warm drink always makes me feel better.”
Slick took it, immediately feeling the heat through the metal, and tentatively took a sip. Motor oil with a hint of copper, warming her from the inside out. She suddenly felt choked up, though she wasn’t willing to examine why.
“Well, I won’t keep you.” Dinah suddenly stood, brushing invisible dirt off of her thighs, and Slick took her distraction to compose herself into something closer to her normal sullen and brusque persona, laying back down on the workbench with the thermos near her. If the dining car had noticed Slick’s reaction, she had the grace not to mention it. She headed towards the door, but paused.
“By the way, Greaseball wanted me to tell you she looks forward to your talk. She said you’d know what she meant.” Yes, Slick did know what she meant. Apparently she was the latest unfortunate mouse to Greaseball’s terrifying cat. Slick threw an arm over her eyes and groaned.
“She probably didn’t mean it to be as ominous as it sounds.” said Dinah, the perpetual optimist. She was so. Fucking. Dead. She was gonna die and then get chewed up into a million pieces and die again.
“OkthankyoufortheteagoodbyeDinah!” It was official: if Wrench didn’t give her permission to leave the repair shop in the next hour, she was going to stage a breakout, injuries be damned.