The summer season had arrived on the Island of Sodor. More and more holidaymakers flocked to the North Western Railway, and as expected, The Little Western was one of the busiest lines on the railway. Coaches were packed as passengers traveled to visit the beaches and resorts. Unfortunately, this meant extra work for everyone on the branch line, particularly Duck and Oliver.

Duck didn't seem to mind the extra work, but Oliver was another story...

It was a mercilessly hot evening as Oliver backed down into his berth at Arlesburgh West. The auto tank engine was clearly exhausted from that day's duties. Duck chuckled dryly as Oliver braked in the shed.

"The day's worn you down, eh Oliver?"

Oliver grunted while rolling his eyes.

"You can say that again, Duck. You're lucky; you have your own Slip Coaches. I have to actually stop at stations...!"

Duck smirked.

"Yes, I did say they would come in handy during these summer seasons. Cruising down the line without stopping makes it that much easier!"

Oliver snorted.

"Well, I for one would like summer to end already. Once I finish a train, there's another waiting," he continued, "I barely have any time to replenish on coal or water! What we need..." He paused impressively."...is another engine to help us."

"Now, I'm sure we can manage just fine-"

"Oliver's richt, Duck," put in Donald firmly, "A'm a' fur wirk 'n' all, bit this is simply awfy much. Anither set o' wheels wid be best for us. If th' wirk becomes too much 'n' yin o' us breaks doon, then we'd be in trouble for sure."

Duck sighed with defeat and was about to retort when the slamming of a car door startled him.

"You're quite right, Donald," boomed a familiar voice. Out of the shadows and into the light of the shed stepped the Fat Controller. Donald smiled slyly. The Fat Controller cleared his throat and looked from one engine to another.

"I understand that these past few weeks have been rather rough for the lot of you."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver immediately before Duck could say otherwise. Duck snorted, but nobody took any notice.

"I've been thinking of ways to solve this problem for a while now. And so, I've decided to send Sidney to help ease your workload. He'll arrive sometime tomorrow. Good night, engines! I expect a full day's work tomorrow from all of you!"

"Yes, sir," chorused the trio obediently.

The Fat Controller turned on his heel and walked back into the darkness to his car.

"Sidney? Who's that?" Oliver wondered aloud when he was out of earshot.

"I recognize that name," remarked Duck, "If I'm not mistaken, he's a blue diesel. I've seen him around Tidmouth a few times."

"What's he like exactly?"

"Forgetful," huffed Donald.

"Oh? How would you know that?" queried Duck suspiciously

"A've met him afore. Forgot wha ah wis halfway thro' th' conversation," the Caledonian twin muttered, "Ah tried tae explain, bit nothing gets thro' tae him. Eventually ah gave up 'n' gaed back tae mah shunting. Ah left him alone after that."

"If he's that forgetful, how is he supposed to remember what jobs he's supposed to do?" asked Oliver anxiously.

Duck scoffed dismissively.

"Donald has pulled our wheels before."

"Ye cawin me a liar?" burst out a Scottish voice severely.

Duck jumped.

"Er, n-no, certainly not, but um..."

"Och, ah ken whit ye meant, dinnae hide it!"

Oliver tuned out Duck and Donald's arguing as he attempted to go to sleep.

Oliver had found it hard to sleep that night; all he could think of was Sidney. As the sun shone over the shed building, he was still sleeping, whilst the other engines were already leaving for work. Duck's driver had just finished building up steam. The Pannier tank cast an impudent smirk at him as he rushed away to collect the Slip Coaches. Toad, meanwhile, was on a nearby siding, glancing anxiously at a clock. The arms of the clock ticked. Toad looked over at Oliver; although his crew were hopping into the cab, Oliver was still asleep.

"Um, excuse me? Mr. Oliver?"

Oliver snored, eyes still shut. Toad gulped, looking at the clock again. A few minutes had passed, and Toad was starting to become worried.

"Mr. Oliver...?"

There was still no response from the auto tank engine. Toad was beginning to panic now. He sighed, seeing no other options.

"Mr. Oliver, wake up! You're going to be late!" he shouted.

Oliver jolted awake as the fire in his firebox singed the coal. He yawned sleepily and shot an annoyed look at Toad, who looked rather sheepish.

"Yes, Toad...?"

"Pardon me for interrupting your slumber sir, but I believe that we've been ordered to take a goods train to Knapford, and we mustn't be late."

Oliver slowly steamed out of his berth and backed down onto him.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he mumbled.

"I know I am, sir."

"Don't push your luck..."

Oliver had quickly steamed down the coast and was arriving at Knapford Junction. While Toad was simply enjoying the day, Oliver's mind was in other places.

"Donald said Sidney forgot who he was... What engine forgets who they're conversing with in the middle of that conversation?" he asked himself as he steamed into the platform.

Toad looked back curiously.

"Are you alright, Mr. Oliver? You seem distracted."

Oliver came to a halt and sighed.

"Perhaps I am. I'm just concerned, Toad... and tired."

"I can see that, sir, but maybe it'd be better if we see what Mr. Sidney is actually like before we make any judgment."

"Maybe you're right. Wait, how did you know Sidney was coming...?"

Toad smiled sheepishly.

"Well, sir, it's hard to sleep when you, Mr. Duck and Mr. Donald are arguing..."

Oliver's face deadpanned.

"...oh."

Before Oliver could say any more, the two of them heard an unfamiliar voice that seemed to be coming from the yard.

"Ha ha ha, he he he, a very special job for me! I'm shunting trucks, in the yard, so those trucks better be on their guard!"

Oliver raised a brow as he trudged forward, to see who the voice belonged to.

"Who is that singing, Mr. Oliver? It's quite nice," said Toad.

"I'm looking, Toad."

Oliver squinted and saw a blue diesel humming to himself while biffing into a line of trucks.

"That looks like Sidney, Toad. Duck did say he was a blue diesel, and there aren't any other blue diesels on the railway."

"If so, Mr. Sidney seems a pleasant sort of engine," Toad noted.

"...perhaps..."

"What are you doing here, Great Western?"

Oliver looked over and furrowed his brow as Dennis oiled into the platform with a train of steel pipes.

"Doing work," he muttered

"Sounds hard."

Oliver rolled his eyes and glanced back at the yard to watch Sidney. Dennis noticed this and raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you care so much about Sidney of all engines...?"

Oliver sighed with exasperation.

"If you must know Dennis, Sidney's coming to help me and Duck on the branch line. I figured it'd be nice to know a little about him first."

Dennis sneered.

"I can tell you all about him, but much of it isn't exactly positive."

Oliver became a little curious, and couldn't help but wonder what Dennis was talking about. He didn't reply, so Dennis continued.

"Sidney's impossible," he snorted angrily, "He arrives somewhere and the next second he hasn't a clue why he's there. It's ridiculous, I tell you. Once, he was sent to collect a set of wheels for... um... the green caterpillar with red stripes..."

"Percy...?"

"Sure, him, whatever. Sidney roamed all around the island trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing until he took some passengers to the Docks somehow. Yes, I'm ashamed to say that actually happened."

Oliver was taken aback. He didn't want to believe Dennis but then he remembered what Donald had said the previous night.

"H-Has he caused any accidents?"

"Do I look like his babysitter to you?" Dennis snapped, not noticing an annoyed stationmaster walking alongside him. He cleared his throat and placed his hands on his hips.

"You're not scheduled to stop here, Dennis."

Dennis groaned.

"But my wheels ache, and my air intake is filled with dust, and-"

The stationmaster glared. Dennis gulped, intimidated.

"Y-Yes, sir."

The stationmaster shook his head as he walked away. As Dennis began to leave, he shot a smirk at Oliver.

"Good luck. You'll need it with Sidney."

Toad had overheard the conversation and only chuckled brightly.

"Don't listen to him, Mr. Oliver. He's proven to be dishonest in the past."

Oliver only gave a distant murmur in reply; he was too busy watching Sidney go about his work, to see how he acted.

Sidney had completed his task and looked very pleased with himself.

"Ah, all done! Now that that's over with, I have to go... um... Where was I supposed to go? I could've sworn the Fat Controller told me to go somewhere..."

Percy was also in the yard, filling up on water. He couldn't help but laugh as Sidney attempted to remember.

"He said you're going to the Little Western, Sidney," he said, stifling a chuckle. Sidney blinked.

"I am?"

"Yes, the Fat Controller asked me to remind you in case you forgot." Percy sighed happily as he recalled going down Duck's line with the mail train a number of times. "You're lucky, Sidney. The Little Western's a lovely line, especially at night. You'll get to be beside the seaside all day too!"

Sidney gasped excitedly.

"The seaside? Oh wow! I can't wait to go the Large Eastern!"

"Little Western, Sidney."

"Oh. Uh... Yes, that. What would I do without you, Percy?"

"Probably not much," Percy smirked cheekily.

Sidney didn't catch on though and happily scurried away.

"Bye, Sidney!" Percy called as Sidney exited the yard.

Percy chuckled to himself as he set off to shunt his next train.

"Oh, that Sidney..."

Oliver, however, wasn't as cheerful. He was now more worried than ever.

"You heard that, didn't you Toad? As much as I hate to say it, Dennis must've been right... A forgetful engine like that can't be good."

Toad winced as Oliver began to puff away.

"Oh dear..."

Meanwhile, Duck pulled into Tidmouth with the last of his Slip Coaches.

"Ah, what a splendid run that was, eh?" he said proudly, "Reminds me of the old days."

"Well, I'm glad you're having a good time, but there are so many passengers aboard me that I feel like I'm about to burst!" the slip coach cried.

"Stuff and nonsense," retorted Duck, "I got this branch line because I run things like clockwork. I'm not going to stop now just because of a few more passengers."

The slip coach sighed and said no more; after working with Duck for so long, he knew there was no use in arguing with him.

Just then, a loud diesel horn caught Duck's attention. The pannier tank broke into a broad grin as a blue BR Class 08 rolled in, clearly looking lost.

"Um... excuse me? Is this the... oh what did Percy say... um... The Little... Western? Did I get it right?"

"Don't worry, you did."

Sidney beamed joyfully.

"Hooray! I arrived at the right place!" His face fell though as a thought struck him. "Oh no!"

Duck frowned.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know what my job is!"

"Hmm... The Fat Controller must've not given you a specific schedule today as he said you would arrive 'sometime'."

"He did? Oh... I'm a bit forgetful, you see," Sidney said sheepishly.

Duck chuckled.

"It's alright. I know a Really Useful Engine when I see one."

However, Sidney still was a little embarrassed. Duck felt sorry for him and thought of an idea to cheer him up.

"Say, I have a train of empty ballast trucks that need to be taken to Arlesburgh West, but you can take it instead if you'd like."

Sidney's face lit up instantly.

"Oh! Ballast! Where is it?"

Duck indicated towards the yard.

"Should be on a siding over there. One of the shunters has likely already arranged it."

Sidney honked his horn and rolled away.

"Thanks... er..."

He braked and looked back in confusion.

"Duck," the tank engine said helpfully.

"Duck. Right. I'll try to remember that! I probably won't, but I'll still try!" Sidney called as he scurried out of sight.

Duck smiled to himself.

"What an endearing engine..."

Sidney arrived at the yard, scanning the sidings to find the ballast trucks.

"Are you looking for something?"

Sidney looked over to find Rosie arranging some red coaches.

"Uh... yeah, I think so. Duck said I needed some trucks for Arlesburgh East or something... This branch line has a lot of directions in their names."

Rosie was confused at first but then gasped in realization.

"Oh, you must be taking the empty ballast trucks to Arlesburgh!" She then frowned in thought. "Wasn't Duck supposed to take that train, though?"

"He let me do it," Sidney explained proudly, "and I won't let him down!"

Rosie grinned in admiration.

"In that case, they're a little to your right."

Sidney looked over to where Rosie was indicating and grinned. He switched tracks and backed down onto them with ease. As he did so, the trucks glanced at each other in annoyance.

"Who is this whale on wheels?"

"Where's Duck? We expected Duck!"

"I had a whole list of duck jokes ready..."

Sidney, however, paid the trucks no mind.

"Duck's doing whatever he's doing right now. Instead, you'll get to travel with me, Sidney! Isn't that fun?"

"Oh yes, very fun indeed..." they whispered among each other and giggled quietly.

Rosie observed the trucks and quickly realized they were planning some sort of trick. She trudged alongside the blue diesel, whose eyes were following a butterfly in the sky.

"You better be careful, Sidney. Ballast trucks are some of the worst on the line, so I've heard."

Sidney glanced back and seemed surprised at the contents within the train.

"Wait, these are ballast trucks?"

The trucks' jaws dropped in astonishment. Rosie was mildly annoyed but didn't let it show.

"Yes, and they're very troublesome if you don't keep an eye on them."

"Oh no, that sounds bad. I'll do that then! You can count on me!"

Sidney obliviously scurried away, leaving a concerned Rosie behind.

"He's going to forget everything I said isn't he..."

Soon, Sidney was out on the Little Western, taking in all the new sights there was to see.

"I'll probably forget these views, but at least I can enjoy them while I can," he said cheerily.

He noticed Donald puffing on the other line with a line of flatbeds and honked his horn.

"Hello, Douglas!"

Donald rolled his eyes but made no other response.

"Oh... Bye then..." he mumbled sadly.

The front truck scoffed.

"This engine's an idiot, isn't he..."

"We can use that to our advantage," the second one whispered hoarsely, "Just shut it and we'll have no-one's attention."

"What's the point in tricking an engine who's only going to forget it anyway? There's no fun in that," another exclaimed.

"I don't want to end up like that privately owned truck," one shivered.

"Can't we all just be friends?" a nervous truck suggested.

"This is why no-one likes you," the front truck snorted.

Sidney heard the trucks' talking but thought nothing of it. Instead, he decided to sing so he wouldn't forget the task at hand.

"Ha ha ha, he he he, a very special job for me. I'm taking these trucks, to Arlesburgh West. This tune may get old but it works best!"

"I'll admit, he's not a bad singer," commented a truck.

"Oh shut up."

Meanwhile, Frank seethed impatiently as he waited atop the chute with a line of hoppers filled to the brim with ballast.

"Where is that blasted Duck? You'd think with him going about how he makes things look like a clock, he'd have the sense to be on time."

"It's called 'clockwork', Frank," smirked Rex, who was tidying up the yard.

"Why wouldn't I know how a clock works? Are you trying to say something about me? Are you?!"

"Calm down Frank, it's only a word...!"

"Huh! Well, Duck doesn't follow it very well."

Suddenly, a horn blew in the distance. Rex raised a brow as he reversed from his trucks.

"Huh. Sounds like a diesel's horn," he observed.

Frank's eyes widened and his jaw nearly reached his buffers.

"A standard gauge diesel?! Those hardly ever come around here! Oh, I'm so excited!"

"I don't know whether to cheer or pity you," Rex quipped.

Frank was so ecstatic he didn't even hear him. He grinned as a blue diesel hurried in, panting heavily.

"I'm here! I'm here! I'm-"

Sidney broke off as he noticed the sight of Rex. He gasped as he took in how small he was.

"Oh my goodness, you are tiny!" he exclaimed.

Rex chuckled.

"Yes, that is our trademark. I haven't seen you around before, though. Are you new?"

"Uh... I don't think so. I've arrived here a few years ago... I think."

"What, you can't remember?"

Sidney's cheeks turned a light tint of pink, a little embarrassed.

"...not really."

"Seems the poor fellow has memory loss," Rex whispered to Frank.

"Do you know how our chute works?" Frank asked curiously, looking down at Sidney.

"I just got here, so... I don't see how I would."

"You didn't think that through, did you Frank?" grinned Rex.

Frank gnashed his teeth and said no more as Rex continued his tidying. The bottoms of Frank's trucks slid out as usual and the stones began to fall through the steel girders into the standard gauge trucks. But Sidney was startled by the sudden noise, and he surged backward in surprise. Rex gasped and blew his whistle loudly.

"Look out!" he shouted.

Sidney braked, but couldn't get out of the way in time. Before he could get out a cry for help, stones battered him from all sides. Frank and Rex cringed as the dust cleared, revealing a coughing and choking Sidney.

"Oh dear... That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

"No, it isn't meant to, but it's expected," Rex said.

"I spent a whole half hour taking this ballast down here," Frank complained, "and now some of it's gone to waste!"

Sidney looked down at his buffers in shame.

"I'm sorry..." he said quietly.

Sidney looked so upset that Frank couldn't be too cross. His face softened, though it still retained its grumpy expression.

"Well... I suppose it could happen to any engine..." he muttered.

A short blast of a whistle interrupted him. Sidney gulped worriedly when he saw who it was. Oliver was letting off steam at the standard gauge station, and his eyes narrowed at him disapprovingly. He said nothing, but the message was clear. Frank silently rolled away to collect some workmen to clear the mess. Oliver's gaze shifted to Rex who winced a little.

By the time the mess was cleared, Oliver had already gone, but Sidney hadn't forgotten the look he gave him. The guard blew his whistle, and Sidney gazed at Rex sadly as he trundled away.

"Poor engine..." Rex murmured, "Seems friendly, but his memory loss is bound to cause trouble..."

"He's caused a significant amount of trouble for me already," Frank grumbled indignantly.

"Nothing ever makes you happy, does it?"

Oliver had already delivered his goods train and was now arranging trucks at Tidmouth Yard. He was just pushing a line of coal wagons onto a siding when he heard some nearby footsteps. He sighed as the yard manager walked up to him with a clipboard in his hand. He looked up and smiled when he saw the auto tank engine.

"Ah, Oliver. Just the engine I'm looking for."

"Looking for what, sir...?" he asked in dismay.

The yard manager tapped his clipboard with a pen.

"It seems that some of the most recent shipment of ballast has been... *ahem* lost."

Oliver felt a sinking feeling in his boiler; he knew where this was going.

"I want you to collect a couple of trucks to make up for what has been misplaced, and deliver it back here. I know you had some shunting to do before your next passenger run, but I'm sure Rosie can handle it herself."

Oliver was furious but plastered a fake smile. However, he felt it faltering and was worried he may say something he'd regret if he stuck around too much longer.

"Of course, sir," he said hastily before reversing to collect a couple of empty ballast trucks. The yardmaster scratched his head before walking away. The trucks were on a siding by themselves, already arranged. Their frames quivered nervously as Oliver glared at them.

"Get in line you two," he barked as he reversed, causing the the two ballast trucks to bang into each other, "I want no nonsense from you. I've already had enough of that already today."

The trucks both gulped fearfully; they knew better than to aggravate him even more.

"Y-Yes Oliver," they stammered.

Normally, Oliver would feel pride in being able to control ballast trucks so well, but today he was so cross that it didn't matter. He looked around for Toad but remembered he was helping Douglas and was coupled up to a different one.

"I could use Toad's optimism right now..." he murmured to himself as he departed.

Duck, however, was much happier about things. At Haultraugh Station, he was letting off some passengers who wanted to stay at the nearby resort. He was lost in his own thoughts when a loud and cross whistle jolted him back to reality. Duck stifled a sigh as Oliver snorted into the station, grumbling to himself. Oliver scowled as he saw a red signal and braked quickly.

"Bother that signal," he complained. Duck rolled his eyes.

"Even with a new helper arriving, you still look crosser than ever, if not worse."

"You would be too if you were forced to fix another engine's mistakes," Oliver replied.

Duck glanced from Oliver to the two silent ballast trucks.

"That blasted Sidney had no clue what he was doing at the chute," Oliver continued, sensing Duck's confusion, "When I got there, he was covered in wasted ballast, meaning I have to squeeze in an extra journey in order to complete the shipment!"

"I never thought I'd see the day that you'd be lazy, Oliver...!"

"Lazy?! Do I look like Dennis to you?" Oliver huffed.

"I can't help but get that feeling from your complaining. Things run like clockwork; everyone has to do their fair share."

"In that case, Sidney really hasn't. I had to pick up after his mess after he dropped some ballast back at the junction. Not a very good helper I must say..."

"You haven't even given him a chance yet! He's only been here for one day!"

"Exactly. He's only been here for one day yet he's already causing trouble! I don't want nonsense and yet it comes crashing down regardless!"

"As if your younger days weren't without embarrassment. An incident with a turntable well comes to mind...!"

Oliver's face flushed and stammered as he attempted a response.

"Well... You've had similar mishaps. You crashed into a barber shop for one thing..."

"That was completely different. I saved people from a nasty accident. You were simply being careless with the trucks."

"Why are you even bringing this up now? This was years ago!"

"I'm only using your own logic. Apparently, if someone makes a mistake they can never redeem themselves in your eyes!"

"That isn't what I said at all!" Oliver cried defensively.

"Sure seemed like it to me..."

"I was simply stating that help should be helpful. If it isn't, it's useless."

Duck frowned angrily.

"You're always complaining about how much work you do, and then when someone finally comes to help, you still complain! I didn't even think we needed help, but I still accepted him!"

"I don't complain all the time; I just don't think we deserve being overworked like this, and then making things even worse by bringing a ninny in!"

"All this time you're spending complaining right now could be spent doing actual work!"

Oliver gritted his teeth; it wasn't his fault that another train was keeping him held up.

"My signal is red!"

Duck's eyes narrowed.

"I expected better from you, Oliver. A true Great Western Engine would accept any work they're given and work without fuss. You're no proper Great Western Engine..."

Silence fell over the station. Passengers who had been listening to the argument gasped and hushed each other. Oliver was shocked for a moment, but it was lost as both tank engines glared daggers at each other. The quietude swiftly became unsettling. At last, Douglas steamed into the station, passing by with a local passenger run.

"Dae forgive me, lads," he said apologetically, "Ah wis held up at Arlesburgh and-"

He broke off, noticing the intense glowers each was giving one another. Douglas raised a brow but said nothing as he trundled through; he figured the two needed some time alone for a while. As soon as Douglas left, Oliver's signal changed back to green, and the auto tank engine stormed away. Duck just seethed in fury.

Later, Douglas pulled into Arlesburgh Harbour with a train of ballast, with a troubled look on his face. Sidney was there too, albeit light-engine. He glanced at him with a frown.

"What has you so concerned... uh... Donald?"

"Douglas," the Scottish twin corrected and sighed. "Tis just Duck 'n' Oliver. They seemed tae hae hud a muckle argument."

"What about?" the blue diesel asked curiously.

"Ah didnae hear anythin' fae it, bit ah cuid tell fae thair looks as ah passed thro'. Whitevur th' subject wis, it cannae be guid."

"Oh," said Sidney with a blank face.

As the two were talking, Skiff was rolling down the line towards them.

"Captain Joe, these are very heavy!"

"I know Skiff, but someone has to give these out."

Douglas and Sidney exchanged a look as Skiff rolled alongside them. The railboat tried to smile, but both engines could see that he looked much more worn out than usual.

"What are you two doing?" Sidney queried.

Captain Joe looked up and waved.

"We're delivering sandbags to the people in the town," he explained as he hopped down.

"Sandbags? Why?"

"You mean you haven't heard?" Skiff asked suddenly.

"Er... I don't think so... I could've forgotten, though..."

Douglas smirked as Captain Joe lifted another sandbag out of his railboat.

"Well, I was looking out of my lighthouse earlier and saw dark clouds on the horizon. Concerned, I turned on my portable radio that I keep with me and I listened to the weather broadcast." He grunted as the weight of the bag strained on his arms. "It said there was an oncoming storm that is due to hit us tomorrow."

"A storm?!" Sidney cried suddenly.

"Yes, I'm afraid. What's particularly worrying is flooding is to be expected!"

"Och, sae that's how come ye'r giein' oot sandbags!" Douglas realized.

"Exactly. Sandbags can act as a barrier to divert moving water, which is good news for us."

"We can't tell everyone, though," Skiff put in anxiously, "It's dangerous for me to be out on the Main Line."

"Dinna fash yirself. Ah kin go oan th' main line 'n' th' branch lines. Ah will warn a' body ah see aboot it!"

Skiff and Captain Joe grinned gratefully.

"Thank you, Douglas. That'll be a great help. This branch line, in particular, is dangerous in heavy rain, with it rolling along the coast and all." said Captain Joe.

He set down the sandbag by the maritime museum and climbed back into Skiff. He began paddling the railboat towards their next destination.

"And I'll help too!" beamed Sidney once the two were out of earshot.

Douglas' eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Aren't ye suppose tae be at Tidmouth Yard shunting...?"

Sidney's face turned red in seconds.

"O-oh... Was I supposed to be doing that? I better get going then! The yard's probably in a terrible mess by now! Goodbye, Douglas!"

Douglas chuckled as the blue diesel reversed through the harbour.

"At least he got mah name richt this time..."

, Early the next morning, rain pounded down on the island. The Little Western was very quiet at this time, as Duck and Oliver were still in their berths at Arlesburgh. As he entered Tidmouth, Sidney looked up at the sky worriedly as a flash of lightning struck.

Sidney's brow furrowed, but his attention was immediately drifted back to the rails as he slipped on a few wet leaves.

"Woah!" he cried, screeching to a halt at the platform.

"You'd better watch what you're doing. It wouldn't do for you to derail in this weather," warned Logan as he drew alongside with a train of coal.

"Sorry about that. These rails can be rather slippery in rain!"

"That's why we have sandboxes..."

"Oh right, I forgot about those!"

Logan resisted a sigh.

"Sidney, don't you have a job to do?"

"Uh... If so, I can't remember. Maybe I was supposed to be shunting in the yard."

"You do that then, I suppose."

Sidney grinned and rolled away. Logan's eyes widened in realization.

"Wait a minute! Someone's supposed to deliver a few of these coal trucks to the Little Western! It must be him!" He looked ahead and gasped as the blue diesel hurried out of the station. "Sidney, come back!"

Logan blew his whistle loudly, but Sidney was already too far away to hear properly.

"Oh no..."

Oliver scowled as rain pelted down onto the shed roof.

"Glad I'm not going out in this weather yet..." he grumbled under his breath.

Duck shot an angry glare but said nothing. Exhausted, Oliver attempted to close his eyes again to catch up on sleep. Just as he was about to drift off, the shed door was unlocked by someone from the outside, and it flew open. Oliver's driver walked into the shed, closing his umbrella. The fireman and Duck's crew soon followed, shivering from the cold.

"What's going on, sir?" Oliver asked.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to take a long passenger train from here to Tidmouth. It's to help evacuate people from dangerous flood zones on top of transporting our regular passengers."

"Doesn't Donald usually take it around this time?"

"Yes, but he's helping Edward and BoCo evacuate people on the Brendam branch, and Douglas is at the harbour, leaving only us left."

"Well, if it's to help people, I can't argue with that, though... wouldn't the train be too heavy for me alone?"

"Indeed, which is why Duck will be helping you."

"What?!" cried out Duck and Oliver together.

"Look, I know you two just had an argument, but you'll have to put aside that for now, for the sake of the passengers," said Duck's driver.

Duck and Oliver seethed furiously as they puffed out of their berths.

However, it was easier said than done. Both engines wouldn't speak a word to each other, which made it difficult to communicate. Duck was about to back down onto the train when Oliver was switched onto his line and screeched to a halt in front of the coaches. Duck lowered his brow and was coupled up to him.

Inside his cab, Oliver's fireman shoveled a bit of coal into his firebox and turned around to fetch some more. He was annoyed to find there was less coal than he had expected.

"Bother. I'll have to fetch some more from the bunker."

The driver sighed as the fireman clambered down. To his astonishment, however, when he peered inside the bunker, there was barely any coal in it at all.

"What...? Wasn't there supposed to be a delivery of coal earlier?"

"What are you talking about? Of course, there was!"

"Then why is the bunker empty?"

Oliver's driver looked down and groaned, realizing he was right. From Duck's cab, his driver heard the noise and looked back.

"What's all this about?" he called.

"There's no coal left in the bunker for either of us!" shouted Oliver's fireman.

"Well that takes the biscuit," grumbled Duck's fireman, "We don't have a lot of coal in Duck's bunker either."

"So... what are we supposed to do? We can't take the train without any coal," Oliver spoke up.

"We have some coal," consoled his driver, "but I'm not sure if it'll get us to Tidmouth."

"We could call the train off," suggested the fireman, "It won't do us or the passengers any good if we get stranded."

Duck looked to the passengers on the platform, all boarding the coaches. One woman looked down worriedly at her baby, wrapped in swaddling. The sight gave him a burst of inspiration.

"No. We have to do it," he said firmly, "These people are relying on us. What if they get stuck in the floodwaters and have no way to escape? That'd be terrible!"

"He has a point," said his driver, "I've heard a lot of the major roads are already closed down."

"Alright, we'll do what we can," nodded the fireman, "We'll have to conserve as much as possible, though."

"As long as we have warmth. I'm freezing in here."

Just then, the guard blew his whistle and nervously clambered aboard. Duck whistled determinedly, though Oliver just gave a short peep. The train rumbled out of the station, the duo snorting in front.

All was well at first; the trip didn't take as long as it had expected due to the urgency of the passengers. They got to their seats as quickly as they could, due to fear of excess rain causing a flood. Duck and Oliver were content with this, as they too wanted to get out of the weather as soon as possible. While both were rather tense throughout the journey, neither bothered to get on each other's bad side. However, things were about to take a turn for the worse. The train was rumbling through Tidmouth Tunnel, when...

Duck's driver peered out the window and gasped.

"What is it?" asked the fireman.

The driver didn't respond immediately. Acting fast, he pulled the brake lever. Oliver biffed into Duck as the pannier tank came to a halt.

"Ouch!" he cried as his buffers banged into Duck's rear bufferbeam. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion as the train came to a halt. "Hey! What's going on?" he burst out crossly. Duck only grunted in reply. His own driver looked up and gasped.

"See that?" he said to the fireman. The fireman squinted and groaned.

"We should've seen this coming. That blasted lake just had to flood, didn't it?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow and looked past Duck to find that the line was deeply flooded.

"Well, that's it then. We can't go any further."

"No, we can," Duck said at last. Oliver was slightly stunned; this was the first time the two had exchanged words since their argument.

"Surely, we can't get through that," he said doubtfully, choosing his words carefully; he didn't want to anger Duck more than he seemingly already was. Duck scowled as he scanned the height of the flood.

"I've had enough of you underestimating us, Oliver. We can and we will get through that flood, whether you believe we can or not. These people need to get to safety."

Duck whistled and rushed forward. Oliver jolted and tried to stop, but his driver had lost balance due to the sudden movement and couldn't reach the brake lever in time. With a mighty splash, water flew into the air and landed all over them. Their crews all groaned at once.

"My hat!" exclaimed Duck's driver.

"Never mind about your hat," said the fireman, and he pointed to Duck's firebox, "The fire's out, and we haven't any coal to relight it, which means we're stuck!"

The driver blinked and whirled around to find there was no coal left in the bunker.

"It's times like these I wish I wasn't right..." the fireman groaned, face in his hands.

"I think my fire's out too... I knew this was a bad idea..." Oliver spoke up.

A few anxious passengers poked their heads out of their windows.

"What's going on?"

"Why have we stopped?"

The guard jumped down from the brake coach and immediately went back inside when he saw the water.

"What's going on, guard?" a man asked.

"Everything's alright," the guard said, walking into one of the coaches, "We're just... stuck in a flood."

The passengers all gasped and as much as the guard tried to calm them down, they began to panic. The loud noise was even audible to the engines. Duck's driver slapped his forehead.

"Well, isn't this ironic? We intended to take these people out of the floods, but instead, we led them right to one. And it's raining. And my hat's wet."

"If all you're going to do is complain, I suggest you call for help," Duck called back.

The driver sighed and clambered down.

"Alright, might as well..." he muttered as he trudged along the footplate.

Back at the yards, Sidney was shunting some empty trucks into a goods shed to be used for later. He looked curiously over as Logan puffed alongside with a few coal trucks.

"What are those for, Logan?"

"These were supposed to be delivered to Arlesburgh," Logan grumbled, casting a glare at him, "but now these have to be left here until the storm clears."

"Uh... I wasn't supposed to do that, was I?"

"Donald and Douglas are who knows where, and I haven't heard anything from Duck and Oliver so I have reason to believe that yes, you were supposed to deliver these."

Sidney gulped.

"Uh oh... That means..."

"Sidney!"

The blue shunter jumped and gasped as the yardmaster walked up to him, wearing a raincoat and carrying an umbrella.

"Oh, sir! I know what you're here for. I forgot to deliver the coal... I'm so sorry, sir..."

The yard manager raised an eyebrow.

"I... see. However, that isn't why I'm here."

"It... isn't?"

"No, it's much more urgent than that. I just got a call from Duck's driver; Duck and Oliver are stuck in a flood by Tidmouth Tunnel. with many stranded passengers with them!"

Sidney and Logan gasped together.

"Oh no!"

"Exactly, Sidney. You must go and rescue them."

"Sir, do you really think Sidney can pull two locomotives and a train full of passengers?" Logan asked doubtfully.

"He's the only option we have I'm afraid since everyone else has their own work to do..."

The yard manager's eyes narrowed at Logan.

"Y-Yes, sir," he gulped, gaining the hint, and he reversed out of the yard.

Sidney honked his horn with determination and began to leave.

"I'm on my way, sir! I won't let you down!"

The yard manager turned on his heel and started walking away when Sidney reversed back to his original position.

"Um... where's Tidmouth Tunnel?" he asked sheepishly.

The yard manager sighed.

Oliver's teeth chattered as he could no longer keep warm without a burning fire.

"Who's coming to rescue us...?" he queried uneasily.

Duck's driver rubbed his neck.

"Well, the yardmaster said he'd ask Sidney to come and-"

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be a big help..."

"Oliver, now is not the time. I have doubts myself, but it can't get any worse. I mean, my hat's wet."

"At least you're underneath a roof," Oliver muttered crossly as Duck's driver climbed back into his engine's cab. A distant horn sounded, and soon a voice followed.

"Hello? Anyone? ...is this the right way?"

"Over here, Sidney!" shouted Duck.

A light beamed through the rain and Sidney emerged. Passengers could see him and clapped and cheered at the sight.

"Oh, there you are!" he beamed, though he frowned as he saw the cross faces the two had. "What happened?"

"Duck thought it was a good idea to go into the flood, now our fires are out and we have no more coal."

Duck scowled and looked away. Sidney's face flushed in embarrassment.

"Sidney...? What's wrong?" Duck asked worriedly.

"Uh... I might've been scheduled to take the coal down to Arlesburgh and... forgot..."

Oliver groaned loudly.

"So this entire incident could've been avoided if you had just done your job correctly."

Sidney looked up at him and his bottom lip quivered as if he was ready to cry. Oliver's brow rose as Sidney choked up.

"I-I'm sorry... I don't know why it happens... I just can't remember things very well... I wish I had a good memory like you two do. Then I won't get in these mishaps all the time..."

"Sidney, I... I..."

Sidney's face set and he trudged closer to Duck.

"I know I can make it up to you, though. I'm going to take you back to Tidmouth. I can remember the route if I try really hard... I hope."

Duck glared at Oliver before frowning.

"I don't want to bring you down further Sidney, but are you sure you can pull us?"

"No, but then again I'm not really sure of many things. Just trying won't hurt."

Duck's driver reluctantly climbed down and attached a long chain between Duck and Sidney.

"Why am I always the one that has to do the work?" he grumbled as he finished, "Do you even know how wet my hat is?"

"Yes, and I really don't care," said the fireman as he pulled the driver back into the cab.

"Well, you should..." he pouted as he crossed his arms.

Sidney's sandboxes dropped some sand on the wet rails so he could get a better grip. With a jolt, his wheels whirred. His face grew red and he began to wheeze as the weight of the train tired him. Sidney opened his eyes and stopped for a moment.

"It seems he can't do it," Oliver commented gravely.

The diesel's eyes widened as Oliver's words echoed over and over within his mind.

"He can't do it. ...if you had just done your job correctly. He can't do it. Can't do it. Can't do it."

"Yes... I... can!" he shouted as he reversed with a mighty heave.

"Whoa!" Duck cried as he was suddenly pulled onto dry land. Oliver jolted forwards, tugging the coaches with him. The passengers bounced in their seats. Some poked their heads out their windows. Once they saw the scene, they started cheering.

"Go, Sidney!"

"You can do it!"

"Don't give up!"

Duck soon joined in.

"You're almost there! Keep going!"

Oliver's jaw dropped as Sidney gave another sudden heave, sending Oliver and the coaches onto dry land.

"...you... did do it," he said, aghast.

Sidney beamed from buffer to buffer.

"I did, didn't I?"

He honked his horn as Duck's driver coupled him up to Duck.

"Let's get out of this storm, shall we?" he grinned, slowly tugging the train down the line.

The cavalcade made their way back to Tidmouth without any further trouble, much to everyone's relief. Oliver said nothing during the trip, though Duck didn't seem to care as he was too proud of Sidney to notice. Tired but triumphant, Sidney backed into the station with the rest of the train in tow. Rosie was taking shelter from the storm under the station. She was there with the yardmaster and stationmaster as Sidney came to a halt, cheeks pink from exhaustion. The men welcomed the crews warmly, patting them on the back and praising them.

"At least you tried," said the stationmaster.

"Yes, but at a cost," Duck's driver sighed, "My hat is-"

The fireman snatched the wet hat out his hands.

"Hey! I need that!"

"Shut up about your hat then."

Rosie grinned at the trio of engines.

"You came back safely!" she exclaimed, "Oh Sidney, that was so brave!"

"R-Really?"

"Of course!" said Duck, "Without you, we'd still be stuck, probably for hours before any rescue would arrive, even if Oliver doesn't think the same way."

"Why are you bringing me up in your praises?" Oliver huffed.

"Because you were the one who said he wasn't any help when really you were the one who didn't want to work."

"He said that?"

Duck and Oliver looked over to find Sidney looking upset again. Oliver sighed, immediately feeling guilty.

"While the latter isn't necessarily true, I... was rather rude about Sidney. I was told he was only a nuisance, but now I can see that was wrong."

He looked up at him and smiled.

"You're a Really Useful Engine, just like the rest of us, even if you may have memory loss."

Sidney blushed yet still looked very proud indeed.

"T-Thanks..."

Duck raised an eyebrow at Oliver, who now looked sadly at him.

"I also should've kept my temper in check. Arguing with you only intensified my feelings, which didn't help any."

Duck stared at him for a moment before glancing down at his buffers and sighing.

"Well, I wasn't much better. I shouldn't have said you weren't a true Great Western engine. You are, and don't let anyone tell you different." He then shifted his gaze to Sidney. "Sidney's capable of causing a big mess... but he'll always clean it up."

Sidney remained on the Little Western for the rest of the summer. Slowly but surely, he grew to learn how they did things, and everyone learned to be patient with him... for the most part.

At Arlesburgh West, Sidney rolled in cheerfully with a line of ballast trucks.

"Hello!" he called. Mike was on the chute, pushing his ballast hoppers into place. He lowered his brow suspiciously at him.

"Aren't you the one who got covered in ballast the other day...?"

"Oh, uh... yeah..."

Mike rolled his eyes.

"Well, don't do that again. You'll make Frank complain for hours on end. Gets on my nerves."

The ballast poured into Sidney's trucks. He grinned up at Mike as he waited for his guard to blow the whistle.

"It was nice meeting you, Rex!"

Mike's eye twitched and he gnashed his teeth. Sidney gulped.

"Um... did I... say something wrong? That is your name, right?"

Mike's face went red with anger and he was about to yell at him when Oliver chuffed in with a goods train. He came to a halt and could see the situation Sidney was in. Wanting to prevent trouble, he glared at Mike disapprovingly.

"It was only a mistake, Mike."

"Oh, that's your name?" gasped Sidney suddenly, looking up at the furious miniature engine.

"Of course that's my name you imbecile! Do I look green to you?!"

Oliver's eyes narrowed.

"Mike..."

Mike stopped seething and gulped.

"Er... y-yes... only a... mistake..."

He plastered a fake smile.

"Pleased to meet you."

Mike's eye twitched again when Sidney wasn't looking.

"Oh, you too! Thanks!"

Sidney's guard blew his whistle and the diesel scurried away, glancing at Oliver gratefully. Mike, not wanting any attention, slowly steamed down the chute. Oliver chuckled to himself as Duck puffed alongside him.

"What happened here?" he asked, noting the angry Mike.

"Sidney forgot what color Rex was and assumed Mike was him," Oliver snickered, "Mike's reaction was priceless, though I intervened before he could blow up at the poor fellow."

Both engines laughed heartily.

Even after summer was over, Sidney kept in touch with his new friends and is now one of the top choices for the Fat Controller to send to the branch line if an extra engine is needed. Some of the other engines found this amusing, but Duck and Oliver didn't mind. Despite his flaws, Sidney was indeed really useful, and that was all that mattered in the end.

A/N: Yet again another rewrite...! I almost want to apologize for these as my stories take a lot longer to make now, and I could've tried and done something original instead of tweaking an older idea. However, I do hope you enjoy this regardless as it obviously took forever to do. (Heck, this is my longest standalone story to date. Wow!) Anyways, I have a few more rewrites lined up for the future, particularly ones that have great ideas, but my naive self didn't really know it at the time of writing them. I can't even read them now without cringing, to be honest...

I've decided to start having a few future stories at the end of the current one, just so you all know what's next. I feel like I don't follow a consistent schedule, and often I just pull an idea out of a hat. So, here are some I'm likely to do in the near future:

- The Origins of Den and Dart - Den and Dart reveal how the two of them came to Sodor.

- Out On The Town - Trevor and Butch have a disagreement about what The Pack should do about an old church that builds and builds until it turns into a riot.

- Too Much to Handel - Sir Handel demands more respect due to the "sir" in his name.

- Samson and the Thin Clergyman - Samson becomes cross when the other engines have books named after them yet he doesn't.