Scattered Pieces - A Fallout New Vegas and Toy Story 3 Crossover

Written by: Scarletcriminal

Author's Note: This story does have mild swears, sexual references, drug references, smoking, alcohol, fighting, death, blood, and toys. It is NOT a children's story. It is based off of the game Fallout: New Vegas which is an M (for Mature) rated game. Thus, be aware that this story is for mature readers, so do not complain to me about it being too adult. Thank you.

Edit: I fixed some errors- Triple proofreading your translations/grammar/everything really helps. And now, the story begins...

War. War never changes. When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, form new tribes. But the vast majority of ruins stayed just as they were as the survivors found that the world around them was harder to rebuild than they'd thought.

And in those ruins were the things of the past that had been left behind and forgotten. (Fallout, New Vegas)

Footsteps traveled over the rubble and passed by quickly. A few more followed behind, their leather and spikes and chains rattling. The smell of blood and grime was heavy on them, and they could be smelled even from across the remains of the room.

Silence.

"Okay, they're gone. It's safe, guys."

Woody became animated as he spoke, getting to his feet and brushing some dust off of his worn and ratty vest.

Hamm and Potato head slowly emerged from beneath a burnt plank, pulling a silenced 10mm pistol with them.

"Everyone alright?" Hamm called out. The years had taken their toll on the poor pink piggy bank. He'd seen things no toy should ever have to see, and it had roughed him up so badly that he feared he'd never be himself again. No longer was he the wise-cracking humor-loving showoff he once was; he was too serious and stone cold. But he was always loyal.

Potato Head gave a nod as he looked around. He would have been more verbal in his answer, but he had lost his mouth long ago, and no one knew where to look for it. At first, not hearing him constantly doubting the plans of Woody and Jessie seemed like a blessing to their ears, but they soon found that they longed to hear another familiar voice as a sort of comfort. However, they were sure Potato had probably become even more depressed and harsher than Hamm; but they still stuck together through it all. And Potato had fantastic aim.

Slinky Dog dropped a bobby pin by Woody's feet.

"Thanks, Slink," Woody said. He picked it up and walked over to Jessie who was sitting against a torched wall, holding what was left of her yarn hair. It was faded to a very dull red and practically unraveling in her hands.

"Here, Jess, try this," Woody offered. He took the pin and pulled her hair into it, tucking it up on top of her head and tugging her hat over it.

"There you go. Looks good." He tried to sound sincere and smile at her. She stayed focused on the horizon. Woody sighed.

"Come on, Jessie. We'll find them."

"When, Woody? Why don't we just give up? They could be anywhere. For all we know, some asshole Legionnaire picked them up and crucified them on tiny crosses in front of some little slave kids. Or a fiend tossed them to hungry dogs. Or-,"

"Jessie!" Woody couldn't stand when she got into these moods.

After staying still for awhile, Jessie's mind would wander too far and she'd start thinking about Dolly or Mr. Prickle Pants and especially Buzz. Woody, no matter how hard he tried not to, thought of Buzz sometimes too. He missed him terribly, and had to focus on other things to keep his spirits as high as possible.

"Come on, Jess. We've still got Rex and Trixie, and Hamm, Potato Head, and Slinky. And you and I, we've got each other." He kneeled by her and took her hand in his own.

"And where are we headed?"

She sighed. After a bit of silence, she replied in a low voice.

"The toy factory."

"You're darn right! The toy factory. And we'll find spare parts and paint and yarn. And we'll find Buzz and all the others already there and waiting for us!"

He knew she wanted to argue. Jessie sure could argue. He knew she would have liked to say,

"Yeah. Or we'll just find the place overrun with raiders who will torture us and blow us up."

But she didn't. And they had to start moving to keep their thoughts to a minimum. Moving always helped.

"Alright, everyone, let's get a move on!"

It's understandably hard for a group of toys to make their way across the Mojave Wasteland. In the first place, it's dangerous for any fully grown person. And fully grown people can carry plenty of supplies like ammunition and weapons with them. But for toys, it's a bit more difficult. Sure, toys don't need to eat even though they can taste, and toys don't need to drink even though they can talk, but there's still plenty of danger for them.

Therefore, toys have to defend themselves. Sometimes, defense can be pretty simple. When it comes to things like Ants or Rad-Scorpions, they have to quickly lie down and act like they are; objects. AS long as they didn't taste good (and they didn't), the bugs and such would be disinterested and leave so the toys could slip away.

However, they had to worry about humans. And, unlike those that walked tall and free on two legs, the toys had absolutely no chance to reason with them. If a human spotted a suspicious movement, they'd be shot at. Even though they couldn't really be hurt by these wounds, they could still be damaged. And there were times when a toy became just too damaged to continue on. Justifiably, there's only so much some plastic or felt can take before it becomes just that; melted plastic or some felt in a pile. So was the case with a familiar friend and loved one, but we won't get into that just now.

Without the ability to reason, the toys just had to drop down and hide the best they could. If a human happened upon them and ripped off an arm- - perhaps to use the cotton inside to wipe some blood off their mouth- - they had to let them. They feared that if they spoke up, the human would do one of two things.

The human would think they were just seriously messed up on chems. The toys prayed for this situation if it ever came to it, for the human would probably just throw the toy back down with a shake of their head. Or,

The human would be amazed and wonder what sort of pre-war technology was inside the "robot" allowing it to speak and recognize interaction. That's why the group feared the people seeking out technology; they had night terrors where people ripped them apart as if dissecting them to see what power they possessed.

Of course, plenty of other things could happen.

Being separated, however, was their greatest fear. And that's why they always stuck together during their treks across the desert.

Trixie and Rex would stay up in the front, each with a small pouch attached to them to carry bullets and other small objects the group collected. Trixie was fond of cigarettes. She'd blackened the plastic lining of her insides by smoking so often. It comforted her, however, and the toys didn't mind so much since she hardly ever complained about anything and was actually quite pleasant. When she was in a good mood, Trixie could say things to cheer them up, or she would sing or tell jokes. She wasn't too bad at either, thanks to her creativity.

Rex still adored her, but the tyrannosaur was far from being the cowardly worrier he once was. The years had transformed Rex, and he was probably the toughest of them all. He was never afraid of anything and would charge right into any problem or danger they faced. He regarded Trixie's safety above his own at all times, and would not hesitate to jump in front of her and protect her. In fact, he would do the same for all of his friends. Rex was determined, maybe even more determined than Woody. You could see it in his eyes.

Slinky stuck in the middle as they walked. They used him to carry the pistol as Hamm and Potato Head walked on either side. Woody and Jessie moved depending on several factors; the weather, the danger level, the terrain. But it could be said that they usually stuck close together. It was a bit of a rigorous cycle that the others were getting tired of. Sometimes, the cow-folk would be really intimate on the journey. They'd hold hands as they walked and would speak in hushed voices to one another. Then, the next time the gang found and abandoned shack to stay in for the night, the two would go somewhere for some privacy and spend some time forgetting about their troubles.

The morning after, though, Woody would want to get out quickly and continue the journey before the sun was out. Jessie and Woody would be far apart during the trip, then, and it could get pretty awkward between the two. But the cycle always worked itself around again.

It happened to be towards the end of the routine. Jess and Woody were getting really comfortable with each other again, and Woody was kind of anxious to find a sturdy place to stay.

He wasn't the only one, either. All of the others were getting tired of having to constantly duck behind rocks and rubble to hide themselves. Even though they had a gun, Woody was avid in his belief that it should never be used against a person.

Early on, Hamm was getting hot-headed after a pretty terrible encounter that the toys hate recalling. Hamm grabbed the pistol and began to aim it at a nearby fiend, but Woody intervened.

"They may be awful, but they were kids once, Hamm!"

"So what?" Hamm spat. "If they had toys, they burned them!"

"Or maybe their toys were taken away. We aren't going to be taking their lives away. We are not sinking to their level."

It was decided from then on that they would only use the weapon in absolute desperation.

Woody was terrified of that day which he knew would eventually come.

But for now, the team continued on, wondering what they would face next in the unforgiving Mojave Wasteland.

To be continued…

(A/N: I realize the number of people who can read this and understand it is very slim. After all, how many people who play Fallout: New Vegas have also enjoyed Toy Story and read fanfiction? But I'm hoping someone out there appreciates such a strange mix of my favorite fandoms... And even if they don't I will keep writing this masterpiece :) ~Louise )