Happy Birthday driver!
Since today it's my birthday (22 years, omg) I'm indulging in some engines x relief!driver before i go back to study. Being autistic on your birthday can be very difficult so I wrote this for some comfort, I hope some people can relate to it.
"What do you mean that tomorrow it's your birthday?!"
You close your eyes, wincing at the engine on your right who decides that shouting at roughly six in the morning is a good idea.
"James please, it's not a big deal-"
"Not a big deal? C'mon, it's your birthday!" Thomas chimes in, all happy and letting out steam.
"Yeah, birthdays are fun!" Percy adds. "We all saw Sir Thopam's birthday a few months back and it was amazing!"
"Percy, Sir Thopam is an important man, of course he's going to have a very special birthday."
"But that doesn't mean that you shouldn't have the same treatment!"
"Emily it's okay, I don't care about it."
"But it's an important day too!" You sigh, checking Edward's wheels to try to distract yourself from the discussion. You really hoped to not let the engines at Tidmounth's shed know about it, to let it pass silently on the background of the busy railway like every year. But Paxton, oh ever so sweet Paxton, had come by just a few minutes before to tell that Sir Thopam Hatt sent his deepest congrats for your birthday since he would be extremely busy the next day. You couldn't blame him honestly, but you wished that the timing had been better.
"Guys can we please just- forget about it?"
"Nonsense!" chuffs Gordon, rolling his eyes, "It's a year passed alongside us, not to mention every single year you didn't tell us, it would be disgraceful not to celebrate."
You pinch the bridge of your nose, a raging headache forming right on your temple. You really don't want to deal with this.
"Guys please, let's not get ahead of ourselves and bother them…" You silently thank Henry for trying but that only makes the others bicker between themselves about what to do.
"Maybe a party?"
"Wait we could invite Duck and Oliver"
"Maybe we could get the master to leave the shed open for the night for-"
"Would all of you please fucking stop?"
You didn't even realized you opened your mouth, still staring at the blue wheels in front of you. An eery silence now interrupted only by the sounds of the nearby yard, trucks and engines stretches in the shed. You look around at the engines, who are looking more shocked than you.
"I-I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to snap… Please do not speak about it again, I hate it and I don't care."
You don't hear their responses because Edward's fireman arrives to help light Ed up, and nobody dares to speak up.
--------------------
It's tense, Edward and his fireman can feel it from a mile away. They're old and wise, they know that something is wrong: you haven't spoken a word all morning beside a few words, focused on Edward's levels of steam and the road. But they don't know what's the problem.
"Ed do you know what's up with them? They have such a long face today."
They've stopped on a siding and it's only the two of them while you're in the bathroom at the station during the midday break.
"I really don't know… since this morning they've been so down."
His fireman hums, then adds: "Did they say something this morning? I can only assume it happened before I arrived at the sheds."
Ed shallows and takes a deep breath.
"Do you promise not to say anything?"
"Of course Eddie, what's up?"
"We found out that tomorrow it's their birthday. The others were insisting on celebrating but they exploded, telling everyone they don't care and hate their birthday… Fireman, what could that be about?"
The man's eyes widens in surprise: you're not the type to blow up to anyone, especially engines, so it must be something very deeply personal. He sees you walking back and he gets out of the cab, giving Edward some comforting strokes.
"Old friend, try to talk to them. They probably feel really bad enough for this morning and they trust you well enough. I'm going to get some tea."
He walks away, smiling at you when you come back.
"Sorry Ed," you say, not looking up to him and focused on some notes in your notebook, "there were many people for the bathroom, and the Toby stopp-"
"Driver are you okay?"
You immediately look up to him, shocked by the question. Edward can clearly see you eyes red and puffy, probably from crying in the bathroom, which makes him feel bad.
"I'm so sorry for this morning, I should've put a stop to it when I had the chance. They didn't mean to make you upset, they were just really exctited to celebrate you. They didn't know, I didn't know that such topic was really hurtful to you and I should've told the others to quit it."
"Edward it’s okay-"
"It's not dear. I can see that it troubles you in some way. I just want you to know that you can always talk to me or fireman about it. We're friends, and friends help each other."
There's a moment of silence, then you murmur something.
"-the stares…."
"Sorry dear, what did you say?"
"It's- the stares Ed," you repeat yourself more clearly, your gaze now focused more on your hands twinsting in front of you, "I hate them so much."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean exactly that… It's being watched, judged- sorry it's really hard to explain."
"Don't worry, we have plenty of time. Take your time to gather your thoughts, I'm not going anywhere."
That's one thing you like about him, and probably the reason why most engines come to him for advice, vent or simply talk. But it's difficult to explain it to him, he probably doesn't even know what you're talking about. You take a big breath before speking up again. There goes nothing.
"I fear being percieved- there's such a pressure to perform during that day: smile for the camera, the songs, the stimulies, textures. And don't get me started on faking expression of gratitude when somebody gifts you something so bad you want to curl up and cry- god forbid that people actually get you things based on what you like and your interests."
You chuckle sadly, leaning on his buffers during your rant, arms wrapping around you. He hums but doesn't dare to interrupt you.
"Did you ever tell anyone about how you feel?" he tries gently after a few seconds of silence between the two of you.
"Tried once, what I got was being grounded and something along the lines of 'grow the fuck up'. So i stopped all together, it didn't feel like celebrating anymore, more like an animal at the circus," you finally look up to him, tears already streaming down your face, "It simply doesn't feel special anymore."
Edward feels his core trebling with sorrow seeing you like this. He can't imagine how difficult it must be to open up about such a delicate topic. Oh how he would love to be able to hug and comfort you, but he can't and he feels at a loss on what to do. He's sure that himself and the other engines want to be able to show their appreciation in some way. That's when an idea pops into his funnel.
"How would you like to spend your birthday?" he asks suddenly.
You turn around with a confused sad look, finding him staring at you with soft but determined eyes.
"N-Nobody has asked me before" you admit while trying to dry your tears, "well, they did but didn't listen."
"I'm listening now. If you could imagine a perfect birthday for you, how would you describe it?"
"A quiet night with friends, maybe a gift and sweet treat." you say it wthout thinking.
He smiles softly and slightly bumps you, making you giggle in the process while you dry your tears.
"Then that's what you'll get!"
"Edward you don't have to-"
"We want to celebrate you dear driver, you deserve it. Besides, Percy and Thomas would never let you live it down if they couldn't celebrate you in some way."
You smile fondly at the thought of your engines caring about you so deeply. In the meantime his fireman had come back from the bathroom and is now in the cab.
"C'mon you two, we have deliveries to do today!"
You nod before giving Edward a stroke around his buffers and getting into the cab to beging work once more.
That night after you go back home, Edward and the other engines don't waste a single moment into planning something for you.
The next day is exactly how you can imagine it: you go to the shed to be greated with many "happy birthday's" and whistles from the steam team. The day goes smoothly without any interruptions, no troublesome trucks and annoying passengers.
But when you get Edward to the sheds in the evening the engines welcomes you with a pretty wrapped package (which ends up being a couple of books who wanted to read) and a box from your favourite bakery. You nearly cry as you thank each one of them and spend the early night in the shed, chatting and laughing with each one of them about anything and nothing. You can't think of a better way to spend your birthday.