Author's Notes: Language warning is forever in effect.


The bell tolled early the next morning, but rather than being stirred awake by the sound of the morning bell, Pearl was awakened by the sound of the doorbell ringing two hours later. She awoke to it in the bedroom of the spare unit she had been assigned, her hair almost neatly still in a braid, and yawned loudly as she quietly got up and shuffled down the hall to the front door. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as she opened the door. "Hello- oh!"

"Surprise!" Dinah stood in front of the other coaches with a large bouquet of flowers in her hands, while Buffy, Ashley and Duvay each held a small gift or dish of food in their hands wrapped in little bows. "Oh Pearl, you'll never believe what happened to those coaches!"

"Ohh… What happened?"

"They got kicked out!" Buffy giddly told her. "Control booted their butts out and sent them to another yard! They're finally gone!"

Pearl smiled, still really sleepy from being awoken. "Ahh… That's great," she yawned, not sounding near as enthused as the others did.

The coaches stood on by the front door still, their smiles still awkwardly plastered on. "Well?" Buffy leaned toward the pink coach. "Let's celebrate! We brought breakfast!"

But Pearl shook her head, yawning again. "Ahh.. If it's alright with you guys, I just want to rest today… I'm still pretty wiped from the final, and my wrist is still kinda sore.." Indeed, the wrist was still wrapped up, and a brace had been added to keep it from being overextended or damaged even more.

Duvay groaned, fighting back a yawn herself. "Aww, but we were gonna have some-"

"Oh, that's alright!" Dinah interrupted Duvay, nodding her head as her curls bobbed. "We can just wait until you're back to full energy to get together."

"I'm sorry, I hate to turn you all down," Pearl said, rubbing her injured wrist, "but I'll let you all know just as soon as I'm ready to have fun, okay?"

"Oh, alright," Buffy conceded as Ashley lit a cigarette under impatience from holding the gift in her hands, "but ya still gotta take all these get-well gifts now. We can't keep them forever!"

"Of course!" The pink coach eagerly agreed to take the gifts and treats as her friends brought in the gifts they carried and sat them down on the modest little table of the living room. The girls quietly left as they greeted Pearl goodbye, with Dinah sneaking in one little message:

"And tell Rusty he'd better be a gentleman to you when he gets up, or else I'll chew him a good one!"

The door clicked shut, and Pearl had to wait a few moments to make sure the coaches were gone. They had indeed left, to her relief, and the coach sighed as she looked over the gifts briefly before returning to the bedroom. Not that she had been truly worried about it to begin with, but she was surprised anyone had noticed her and Rusty returning to the spare unit later that night after their meeting at the freight yard. Rusty had been hesitant to come home with her, but Pearl ever-so-slightly hinted that she didn't feel at home in the temporary lodging and didn't want to be alone, especially now that the convertibles could be out looking for revenge.

But Rusty had told her of what happened with Control and Electra, and she was so happy about their removal from the yard that she had begun to cry at the revelation that the yard would be at peace again. It flustered Rusty to the point that, as a gentleman should (or because he'd made her cry plenty times enough), he really had no choice but to ensure that Pearl was comfortable in the spare unit until her own home was back in order. Thankfully nothing was truly stolen, so Pearl could rest easy knowing that the dear mementos and belongings that Pearl had coveted from her love and friends were safe and sound where they belonged while the unit was repaired.

And it made her happy to know that Rusty was just as glad that things were going to be back to normal, as when Pearl returned to her bedroom after the coaches had left, the steamer was still comfortably asleep in the somewhat cramped bed that accompanied the unit's furnishings. They hadn't really planned on sleeping in the same bed that evening, but neither one of them really wanted to be apart on that first night that they were back together. Just as fitting, the night was a quiet, sweet time, even as a late passing rain storm released itself over the yard. The two had talked a large part of the night, both at the yard and in the unit, but it wasn't until the coach had reached to move it aside that Rusty finally asked just what exactly the notebook filled with papers had been for.

"It's my diary," Pearl had replied, hoping her love might not pry any further. "They're my personal thoughts..."

"Uh-huh," Rusty nodded, not even satisfied with the answer as he clicked on the light beside the bed. "So then what exactly are all those papers in there then?"

Pearl stayed quiet, tracing along the intricate design on the cover of the notebook, and then she opened to the first page that stuck out. That page was a pale yellow slip, one that Rusty had seen often when he was forced to sort paperwork on rainy days; it was a transfer request.

Rusty stared at the page as a dreadful chill began to creep onto him, as he wasn't quite sure why Pearl would have one. "… But… Why would you…?"

Pearl shook her head as she took out the paper. "I didn't... I never did." Unknown to everyone in the yard, someone had applied for a transfer request under Pearl's name. The document, having first been handled by an elderly office coach who was known for not being very attentive sight-wise, raised quite an alarm when she did not recognize the voice of the coach who had brought the document to her. When the office car pressed for answers, they simply said, "I'm just passing it on. She'd like to have it done as soon as possible." The coach left without much else to say, but the office car noted the horrid stench that lingered behind. Whether it was Sofia or Cassie that had filled the document out, the coach never asked, but she made it a point to summon and ask Pearl herself when she arrived for clock-in the morning after the unit incident. Pearl was, of course, upset and adamant that she wouldn't ask for such a thing, but though the office car believed her and promised she wouldn't file the document for approval (and instead gave it to Pearl for a sort of safekeeping), the idea of transferring had lingered as she began the process of filing out two sets of paperwork; one for the spare unit request, another as the incident report for the vandalism.

But not long before the final began, she decided to file out one more set of papers; a formal complaint launched against the two convertibles that would be serviced through the Federal Railroad Administration. This final set of papers would ultimately serve as the spark that set the convertibles' fates in motion, and Control later confided to Electra prior to the final that Pearl's complaint combined with Joule's additional confession to seeing one of the convertibles leaving the area of Pearl's unit the night it was vandalized, was the last push needed to expedite the process of sending the two to a federally-moderated trainyard clear across the country.

This meant that even if Rusty had won, or if Pearl hadn't filed the complaint, Sofia and Cassie would still have been sent away over time, but it still stung deep into the pink coach's core that she had even considered filing the transfer request as a proper intention. "I know it seems silly," she confessed to Rusty in the bare light of the bedroom's lamp, "but I was almost ready to give up. I didn't know how much more I could take…"

"But you didn't," Rusty added.

Pearl nodded, her eyes misting over. "...I couldn't... After Turnov found me in the main hall, I just couldn't bring myself to stand by anymore. And I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad I fought."

Rusty smiled as he turned the lamp back off. "And I'm sure you're glad about your banged-up wrist too, huh?"

Pearl giggled as she set the paper back into the notebook, let the notebook fall onto the floor, and then settled under the covers. "Only because it means I had to fight hard to win."

~ Complicated Matters - END


Author's Message: HALLELUJAH IT'S FINISHED. AND IT'S 4AM AND I HAVE LAUNDRY SITTING NEXT TO ME. I'm forever shook that I spent almost three years writing this story, and HOLY HELL IT WAS A RIDE. First I gotta give some shoutouts to the Stex Fans discord and the r/fanfiction Discord servers because they have been so helpful in getting this story together and keeping muse and inspiring me to stop being lazy and actually do something! (The latter server has also inspired some non-StEx fics I'd like to write so hopefully those will become a reality too. ALSO, I want to thank FFnet user mystifyre for being a constant source of feedback on the fic for the past several months, and I want to thank reviewers Tafferling, Mary H. poppins, TussockPride, LesbainMusings, HumanGuineapig, and some several guest reviews for leaving their feedback over the course of the fic's run; no matter whether I was at work or supposed to be sleeping your reviews always made my day/night SO MUCH BETTER!

ALSO, before I finish this baby off, I have two bonus sections for y'all! One's some backstory to a certain plot-point that comes up during the pre-climax, and the latter one exists because everyone thinks I had something planned... I didn't, but then I watched Forensic Files and got an idea, so it's probably gonna sound really rushed. Enjoy!


Before the 2nd heat...

The blaring sound of the hall's overhead intercom sounded off: "Five minutes until Heat Two! I repeat, five minutes until Heat Two!"

"It's a shame I've come too late," Turnov sighed, rubbing his dark head in weak resignation. "I had hoped I would be able to make it in the race after all..."

Pearl blinked in confusion, her arms slowly falling to her sides as she gazed at the engine, her notebook still clutched in her hand. He dwarfed her in size, but a sad cloudiness had invaded his eyes that made him almost shrink. "What do you mean?"

The Russian waved a hand to his wheels. "I should've been out of commission on a broken wheel. My homeland wouldn't have been able to send it overseas in time for the main race, but the package came in last night, and the garage was able to get me repaired in record time early this morning. But from what I've heard, I guess Control isn't taking any chances with late entries this year."

Pearl placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well, maybe you can race in the second heat? Just like Poppa did last year!"

"I applaud your comfort, young miss, but even with my repair, I'm afraid there's still a hang-up, and I don't think there's enough of a miracle to pull it off."

Something clicked in Pearl's mind, and Turnov could see in her eyes that she knew what he was talking about. It was dangerous, sure, but just maybe it could've worked…

"And just what kind of miracle are you thinking of?" The speakers crackled on, and both trains cursed their luck.

"Shouldn't your attention be elsewhere, sir?" Turnov looked up at the speaker, amused at the actual chance of Control finding them. "I hear there's a championship to be maintained, yes?"

"Yes," the voice responded, "but there are other matters to tend to while certain things are… sorted out." Pearl's cheeks flushed red, knowing that her own matters were tied up in Control's hands. "So, Pearl, have you considered what we discussed?"

"… Yes." She gripped the notebook in her hands. "I have the paperwork filled out... I think..."

"You think?"

"… Is it really going to do anything?" She looked up to the speaker, her eyes betraying the uncertainty she was facing. "Can this really all be sorted out with just one piece of paper?"

"You know as well as I do that those two have caused a fair bit of trouble here," Control stated, his tone not quite cold but not warm either. "I won't fault you if you don't want to submit the complaint paperwork, but they won't stay here much longer either way. I've no need for convertible cars if they can't stick to their work like mature trains. The choice is yours."

"And of course, no one's going to let them harass you any longer while they're here," Turnov added, nodding his head sagely.

"As for you, Turnov. I've been told that your wheel has been repaired?"

"Of course, Control! It's good as new!"

"Good," the speaker crackled with glee at the news. "Because I'd hate for you to break it again so soon after getting it fixed."

"… What do you mean?"

The young voice laughed heartily. "Don't play dumb, Russian. I know what's on your mind. I'll allow it since I've received good word from the repair trucks about your condition, but you'll have to get ready quick. I don't want to keep the audience waiting long!" The speakers clicked off, and a chill ran up Pearl's framework.

Turnov chuckled, and turned to face Pearl. "So," he grinned, "how about that miracle I was talking about?"

The coach's eyes widened, and her pulse quickened. It was now or never. And the choice was hers to make. "Y-Yes!"


After the Races...

It was colder than anyone would've believed it to be. The air smelled damp, like rain, but the news has already stated that the storms had bypassed the county and moved on. The yard was silent, all the units were quiet. But the rage burned violently in the older of the convertible sisters, who had stood in her barren unit seething at the idea that Control would so callously toss them out without even giving fair trial.

Not that he cared, of course. Cassie knew that well at this point. Not only did the asshole let Turnov run in the race after such a flimsy excuse for a repair, but he allowed the Russian engine to take up that bitch of an observation car for a partner. He could've called her out on the wrist injury. But Control was too focused on entertaining the crowd. He didn't really care about his trains. And yet, Cassie dared to ask if he would really be upset if something happened to them that was… out of their hands?

Yes, Cassie had been plotting something else since the moment Pearl had made it to the final race. She knew Sofia would put up a fight, but even that didn't sate the older car's thirst for payback, especially after that scalding upset of a loss on hers' and Rusty's part. She even dared to believe that Rusty held himself back just enough for the Russian to make it past the finish line first, and that made her fuel burn in hatred for both engines. And then there was Pearl. Despite the injured wrist, she stayed in the race. She made it to the end. And ultimately, as she concluded during an early smoke break, Pearl and Rusty had most likely mended their relationship by now. That was the straw that broke the camel's back for her; that Rusty would break her sister's heart to go back to Pearl, who practically broke his heart two years in a row and wouldn't let the stupid engine go to suffer alone. A bitch like her didn't deserve a moron like him.

It tried her patience to the point where she finally snapped after the confrontation with Electra, Rusty and Control.

It took everything Cassie had to keep from making a sound as Sofia eventually went to sleep following their packing-up of their units. She had made quick work of her own unit's furnishings, and set to work making a small item. She had seen one before on TV, way back when she was younger, and the first time she made one was both a thrill and a fright; made with only a passenger's lost cigarette cut down nearly to the filter, a few matches wrapped in paper and a rubber band. All it took was one small flame to it, and one small hiding place to place it in filled with proper fuel, and in due time, a roaring fire would engulf whatever was nearby. Law enforcement called it an incendiary device, but at this point Cassie called it her key to justice.

She could've screamed it to the world as she crept out of the unit out of the Trax's sight and made her way to the spare units. This was it, she fumed as she carried with her a small bag that knocked and bumped together in one hand. The incendiary device was grasped firmly in her opposite hand, ready to be lit. Dumb bimbo… She would finally burn with the rest of them! Soon she came upon the unit Pearl was now staying at, and soon Cassie grinned sickly as she knew that the first-class coach would feel the pain of losing everything she loved!

A barely-working lamppost shined near the open bedroom window of the unit, flickering over a rather dead and dried selection of plants underneath the windowsill. And through what little privacy the window had, she could make out the shape of a train laying in the bed. But the more her eyes adjusted to the lack of light through the window, the more she could see that it was impossible for it to be just one train in that bed… No! She reeled as her rage burned brighter; that damn steamer was with her! In quiet fury, she reached frantically into her bag, pulling out a glass bottle that instantly reeked of alcohol. Her hands trembled as she put the incendiary device between her wicked lips and opened the bottle. Quickly, she pulled her lighter from her headscarf and lit the incendiary device, hissing as the flames grazed her face. Yes! Their time ends now-

But as she lifted the bottle high above her to toss it into the bedroom, the clouds above rumbled tremendously for a hot minute.

"HALT!"

And then they opened to the earth below with torrents of rain.

In seconds, Cassie's key to self-perceived justice was soggy, and the convertible's chance for revenge was snuffed out before she was apprehended by the Trax that spotted her. And no one in the unit was any wiser to the fate they were lucky to have avoided.


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