but every time i kneel down to meet my maker, the only thing i see is your face
One of Slick's saving graces as a child was that she knew how to hide.
It was ultimately the thing that had saved her, before Momma had shown up. In fact, she was willing to bet that when she had scampered out to meet Momma, a little trainlet seeking comfort, she hadn’t actually been slated for the scrapper, as the diesel engine had said- if they had found her before then, she would have already been on her way. But they hadn’t- not until she had inadvertently given herself up.
So. Slick knew how to hide, and hide well.
Unfortunately for her, options became a little less varied when skating on an injured leg. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to make it back to her shed on her leg, even before her panicked fleeing had hurt it further, so she had taken a different route, one that led her to an abandoned warehouse, full of old cargo.
So here she was, hurting (emotionally and physically, great) and hiding, in between old crates and pallets and who knew what else, inside a warehouse with metal walls and no insulation, making it even colder than outside.
And worst of all, she wasn’t alone.
“Slick, I know you’re here,” Slick could hear the crunch of gravel under the Greaseball’s wheels, “and I know that you can’t get very far on that leg. Give it up. I’m going to find you either way.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Slick tried her hardest to move as quietly as possible, among the pallets and crates. Greaseball wasn’t wrong. She was the former world racing champion, and Slick was a little oil tanker with a bad leg.
But.
There was still a chance she could get back to her shed. It would be slow going, injured as she was, but it might be possible. That, or find a spot she could hide in until Greaseball gave up and left. It was getting dark out, and the shadows helped hide her as she slipped among the cargo. This was working. She just had to get home, and then she could hide in her room for the rest of eternity. Wallow and think about how stupid she was. This was a good plan. She liked that plan.
She was making her way back the way she came, through the door of the warehouse- almost there - when her wheel caught on something. Her leg buckled suddenly, and she found herself falling backwards.
She saw it in an instant- falling onto an already injured back, causing more injury, a crash sounding loud enough that Greaseball would hear, and more pain. She braced for impact.
Suddenly, she felt arms encircling her from behind. Pinning her arms to her chest, and effectively stopping her fall.
“Found ya.” whispered Greaseball in her ear. She lifted Slick slightly, taking some of the weight off of her leg, but also ensuring her wheels barely touched the ground.
“Now, what should I do with you?” she mused. Slick squirmed in the engine’s arms, but found herself unable to move, effectively trapped.
“You could let me go?”
A grin against her cheek. “Not a chance.” Starlight she was gonna die.
The engine maneuvered them over to a slab of concrete, and sat them down. She was quiet for a moment, giving Slick time to breathe and collect herself. She was still holding onto her- Slick's back to her chest, and arms holding tight, pinning Slick's own arms to her chest.
Slick tested her grip again. Still no give.
Greaseball sighed. “This has been fun, but it’s gotta stop.” Slick was glad she couldn’t see the engine’s face right now, for fear of what would be on it. Anger at surely hurting Dinah? Disappointment that whatever game she had been playing was up? Amusement at how far Slick had fallen in her confusion and uncertainty?
“Just let me go back to my shed, I won’t bother you or Dinah again-“ she began
“What? No, not- I’m not having this conversation here.”
In an instant, Greaseball stood again, slinging Slick into a bridal carry, the latter yelping in surprise. She started skating back the way they had come, towards the coach shed, Slick becoming more worried and more embarrassed as they went, even though there was no one to see the two of them.
“I can skate on my own, you know,” she muttered feebly, despite not actually knowing if that was true, “you can put me down.”
Greaseball paused, considering it. “You gonna run? Don’t lie,” she said as Slick opened her mouth. Slick paused.
“Debating it.” She finally answered. Sue her, she couldn’t lie anymore.
“Then nah, it’s easier if I don’t. I’d just hurt your leg more when I caught you.” She said it so casually, and Slick was very conflicted about how that statement should have made her feel.
“Alright.”
They headed back to the coach shed, which was mercifully still deserted. Greaseball set Slick down to open the door, but kept an arm around her waist. The message was clear: Don’t run. They headed back into the shed, into the now-dark living room, and down the hallway that led to the coach’s rooms. There was rosy lighting emanating from below one of the doors, and Greaseball knocked it lightly before opening it and ushering (read: gently pushing) Slick inside.
This was Dinah’s room, evidently. There were light turquoise walls, and a screen divider between the vanity and bed. The bed was much bigger than Slick’s twin bed, and covered in a pastel pink bedspread, atop of which sat- Dinah.
It was clear Dinah had been crying, and Slick felt horrible. Her eyes were slightly puffy, and there was the tell-tale sign of tear-tracks on her face. She was steadily making her way through a Kleenex box on her nightstand, a number of tissues already in a small pile on the table. At the sight of Slick and Greaseball entering the room, she rushed over.
“I didn’t know- I thought it was all fun and games- I swear Slick I had no idea-”
“Di, love, breathe,” instructed Greaseball.
Dinah cut herself off, and took a shaky breath, new tears rolling down her cheeks. Greaseball let go of Slick to draw her into a hug, murmuring something that Slick couldn’t hear. Untethered at last, Slick turned towards the door, intending to slip out, but was stopped by a hand on the back of her neck. Greaseball.
“Nope, nice try.” Greaseball pulled her-gently- towards the bed, setting her down and then sitting beside her. To Dinah she said, “she’s been trying to make a break for it since I caught up.”
“Oh. Greaseball, we don’t need to do this now-”
“Nope.” Greaseball said again, popping the ‘p’, “You-” she pointed at Dinah, “-are in tears, and you-” Slick received the same treatment, “-keep trying to bolt at speeds that make me jealous. We’re doing this now.”
Dinah nodded, and Slick looked down. She still wasn’t sure where all this was headed, and felt bad enough already. Dinah approached the bed slowly, as if afraid Slick was a wild animal who would bite if cornered. In truth, she felt a little like one. The dining car sat down, cross legged on the bed, and Greaseball scooted back on the bed, behind Slick. Slick suddenly felt arms wrap around her waist, and was pulled backwards until she was in Greaseball’s lap, legs splayed out in front of her on the bed.
“I’m on the bed, I’m not gonna run.” she complained.
“You’re small and I’m a hugger. Do the math.”
Slick sighed, and looked at Dinah for support, but found Dinah already staring at her, worrying her lip and eyes watering.
“I am so sorry Slick, about everything!” The dining car burst out, “I thought what the coaches and I said was just teasing, I- I didn’t realize you took it to heart. I really do admire what you do, and I didn’t realize you didn’t know.
“And I’m sorry if I came on too strong or was too overwhelming- I really like you and I messed it all up and I’m just so sorry-y-y.” The dining car blubbered, and buried her face in her hands.
Well now Slick just felt terrible, which was honestly impressive because she hadn’t known she could feel worse. Dinah was fundamentally good, in a way that Slick didn’t share, and seeing her so distraught after Slick had yelled in her face and accused her of playing a cruel joke convinced her even further. Stars, she was awful, and she found herself at a loss for words.
“It just…didn’t seem real,” she finally managed. “You, telling me all of that. You being…scared to talk to me. I just- I thought you were just trying to mess with me.”
Dinah looked up at that, and shook her head somewhat frantically. “No, never! You were just asking about the thermos- and I told myself if you ever asked I’d tell you- I just didn’t know that Greaseball was going to force my hand.” She leveled a mock glare behind Slick, and there was a chuckle from the engine in question.
“Guilty,” said the diesel, sounding anything but, “but come on, we both knew you were just going to take too long otherwise.”
It was safe to say Slick was very confused. She twisted around Greaseball’s grasp to get a better look at her.
“You- but why?” The engine met her gaze evenly.
“I think you know what that comes down to. Why did you offer to crash Rusty, Slick?”
And there it was. The question Greaseball had been asking since the repair shop- only now, she really expected an answer.
“I think you already know.” She didn’t want to say it. The answer was humiliating, even if the other two already knew.
“I do. I figured it out after our conversation in the repair shop, but I want you to say it.”
There was no getting out of this- metaphorically or literally, since Greaseball still held her tight. She sighed. Time to face the music.
“I offered because I liked Greaseball and wanted her to notice me as more than just a tanker. I was…jealous, I guess, of what you two had.” She took a breath, “And I tried to ignore it, tried to tell myself that it was just a little crush on Greaseball, and that all I felt towards Dinah was jealousy… it didn’t work. And then you two had broken up, and the races were in full swing, and I just thought- this is how I can be useful. This is how I can- can matter.”
They were both staring at her- Dinah with wide wet eyes and Greaseball with narrowed ones.
“And then we crashed, and you were back together, and it didn’t matter anymore.” She finished in a small voice.
Her words were met with silence from the other two. Slick couldn’t see Greaseball’s face, but she could see Dinah’s, and she wasn’t sure she had ever seen the dining car look so sad. Finally, Greaseball sighed, and held Slick a little tighter.
“I’m shit at this,” she muttered, “Alright- I’m not great at words, or feelings really-” Dinah snorted at that, “-but here’s what I think. I think you’re smart, and I like that. I think you don’t know what to do when given a good thing, and so you’ve convinced yourself that you don’t deserve them, to save yourself that struggle. And I know that you don’t realize that you’re a good thing.
“The night I left the repair shop, Dinah and I discussed what we actually wanted out of our relationship going forward- she was willing to give me a chance, but things had to change. And she was right. I loved her, but I didn’t do a great job of showing it. And I didn’t do a good job of making her feel wanted.
“And during that conversation, you came up- what you had done, and why, and- and how we both felt.
“You think that I see you as just an oil truck. That’s not true. I don’t call you tanker because I think that’s all you are- I call you that because it’s a compliment. I’m a diesel engine- oil is so important to my way of life. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re the only oil tanker in the yard. You’re irreplaceable.”
Deft hands gripped Slick’s chin, forcing her to look at Greaseball, who was smiling.
“We like you too, genius. You gotta let yourself say that sort of stuff. I didn’t end up with her because I just showed off a bunch.”
“Despite your best efforts.” Slick heard Dinah say.
“Yeah, yeah.” Greaseball rolled her eyes. “Ultimately I had to open up to her, or we wouldn’t be able to make it work- as it is, we almost didn’t.”
Slick found herself at a loss for words. She was saved from having to respond by Dinah, who scrambled over to Slick, straddling her legs (mindful of her reinjured one) and took Slick’s face in her hands.
“You are wonderful, and I’m sorry.” she said simply.
Slick was mesmerized by the feeling of her soft hands as they cradled her head.
“It’s alright.”
“I want to kiss you.”
She swallowed. “That-that’s alright too.”
And with that, Dinah kissed her.
Oh.
It was a gentle kiss, and a sweet one, a gentle press of lips that caused a fluttery feeling in Slick’s chest. There was the faint taste of salt, but it was overwhelmed by the feeling of Dinah Dinah DINAH. She was content to stay like this forever, until-
“So do I get a kiss, or do I just get to watch the two of you make out?” They broke apart and Dinah swatted at the grinning diesel. “Either way is fine, I just want to know where I stand.”
Dinah smiled, and gave Greaseball a kiss on the cheek. Then-
Greaseball was firmer than Dinah had been, turning Slick to face her properly, and Slick let her. She kissed like she raced- dominating and forceful, one hand on the back of Slick’s head and the other cupping her chin.
Later, they would all be under the covers in the dark of Dinah’s room. Slick would lay between the two, her head on Dinah’s arm, and Greaseball wrapped around both of them. They would need to talk properly about it- one conversation didn’t perfectly fix everything after all. There would be negotiations and more explaining to do- and yes, more than a few tears shed in the process. But for now, in the darkness of the bedroom, between two people she cared about- who liked her back - all she could think about was that she felt wonderfully, gloriously warm .