A Dark Evening in the Fall

Hello, everyone in the Toy Story fandom! This is my first foray in here and I hope you enjoy it. This tale has been rattling around in my head since I saw Toy Story 3. The child I saw it with didn't understand why I cried at the end of it. He was just too young to understand the bittersweet time of growing up and giving up things you loved. But I digress… This story is about another sort of loss. I've seen stories here about toys dying, the owners dying, but not the toy's feeling about the human's death or even seeing it.

I am going with the idea that Andy's father owned Woody and later died. I am also going with the assumption that Woody might have been one of the last toys off the assembly line of the factory and wasn't sold until after the end of Woody's Roundup. I also have made Molly about eleven years old, as she was just learning to walk in the second movie. If nine years passed between the second and third movies, the youngest Davis would be about eleven, nearing twelve. I hope you all enjoy this tale and remember that I own nothing. If I did, I'd most likely be rich. So Disney/Pixar, please don't sue. Thank you.

The days at Bonnie Anderson's home were full of joy. Every afternoon when she returned from Sunnyside Daycare, the brown-haired tan little girl ran straight to her room and played with her toys. She was a vibrant, happy child who loved every one of her toys and took care of them. Some days, she took her toys outside and played with them in her playhouse, but this afternoon was different. It was a rainy day and Bonnie also hadn't felt well. Her mother had picked her up and put her straight to bed, her toys around her.

"I remember when Andy had a cold like this after his sixth birthday," Buzz Lightyear murmured when the little girl was sound asleep in the now-dark room. He and the other toys in the bedroom sat at the foot of the now-red-cheeked child's bed, watching her. All of her toys… save one. Buzz noticed the lone figure sitting on the bedroom window sill, staring out at… the Space Ranger couldn't say what, but he intended to find out.

Stealthily, Buzz climbed down from Bonnie's bed and slinked across the floor to the chair next to the window. He climbed up and got onto the windowsill. "Woody… what's going on tonight? You've been quiet all day… You didn't seem quite right when Bonnie came home from Sunnyside… I know you were worried about her…" Woody said nothing, still staring at what seemed like nothing. But Buzz followed the cowboy doll's gaze out to the street. "What are you looking for on the street?"

Woody shook his head as if trying to eliminate something from his vision. "Not the street, Buzz…" He pointed his finger out to a place Buzz had never visited, but had noticed from Andy's window on a rainy night just like this.

"What is that place?" the space toy wondered, placing a plastic hand over his eyes to see a winged figure in the distance. "And what's that?"

"It's an angel statue at the… cemetery… The cemetery where Timmy is…"

Buzz's head whipped around to see a single tear run down his friend's face. "Who's Timmy?"

Woody looked back, brown eyes full of a pain fully realized but rarely expressed. "Timmy was my first kid… In a way, you've seen him. You remember how Andy looked when you first saw him, right?"

A smile played over Buzz's features at the happy little boy with sandy brown hair and blue eyes that'd played with him and grown into a fine young man. "Yeah. Yeah, I remember…"

"Well, just give him brown eyes instead of blue ones and a lot of freckles in the summer. That was Timmy. I remember the day he first held and played with me…"

It was a sunny afternoon about 45 years ago when Timmy Davis had his sixth birthday party. He had opened numerous packages from his friends and relatives, but one package had been saved for last. It was a medium-size rectangular box wrapped in cowboy print paper and it was from his cousin Bobby. Bobby had seen the toy on a dime-store shelf, one of the very last in the shop and likely ever made before space toys took over in popularity. And so Timmy unwrapped the package, his brown eyes lighting up.

"A Sheriff Woody doll! Bobby, you're the best!" the small boy squealed as he pulled off the box top to get at the doll inside.

As for the doll himself, Woody, he had sat on store shelves unaware of who or what he was. But the small boy's touch did something. The toy awoke. What? What the-? Where am I and who's this? Over the next few days, he learned…

"I got to know his bedroom, his other toys, like Slink, and what it meant to be a kid's toy," Woody continued in the present. "He played with me a lot… I went everywhere with him. I went to Cowboy Camp with him… I watched him grow up, just like we all watched Andy. Timmy got older and I stayed in the toy box with Slink. And then the day came when he put us into storage together up in his mom's attic when he went to college…"

About 33 years before, Timmy picked Woody and Slink up with a wistful smile. "I can't take you guys with me. I wish I could, but… I can't. The dorm is too crowded. But there's going to be a day I take you both out of here."

Where's here? Woody wondered as he and Slink got carried over to Timmy's bed. And then it happened. The two toys were dropped inside a box with a soft flump into something soft. One last image of Timmy's sad smile and Woody and Slink were alone in the darkness. "Where are we, Slinky?" the cowboy asked softly as they lightly bounced around.

"Well, I reckon we're in a box, Woody," the springy canine said in his Southern twang. "I heard one old toy in Timmy's collection talk about the attic. He was one of the last toys that belonged to Timmy's Granddad Opie. He was that old tin man that walked around…" Woody nodded in recognition. The old toy had accidentally been crushed beyond repair one day and Timmy had been very upset. The toys held a memorial service that night after their boy had cried himself to sleep. The tin man had been his grandfather's favorite and he'd promised to take care of him, only to lose him through a tragic accident.

"So the attic is..?"Woody asked, shaking the specters of toy death from his mind.

"It's that place above Timmy's room where his ma and pa store Christmas decorations and other stuff they need out of the way. It's warm and dry up there and quiet, the tin man said. He came down from there when Timmy was just a little tyke. But he'd been there a good long time with the other toys. He told me about it before…" Both toys winced at the memory of screeching metal.

"So we're not getting thrown out?"

"No sirree, Woody. And when Timmy has a little tyke of his own, we'll play with him and other toys!" Slinky, though Woody couldn't see it, smiled the smile of one who has seen great things and become wiser for doing so.

Woody laid back on the soft packing material, his equally soft body relaxing against the stuff. "Another kid… I think I'd like that…"

Woody finished that part of his tale with the calm smile. And he'd become so intent on the tale that he hadn't noticed the other toys, save Buttercup the unicorn (wedged in Bonnie's arms) who now sat on the floor, listening raptly to him. Jessie had climbed up to the windowsill, her bright green eyes illuminated by the light of a streetlamp. Her face was etched with questions. "Woody… why in tarnation ain't you told any of us this? In all our years in Andy's room, you ain't never told us!" she stated, clearly upset.

"Jess, I'm sure Woody has his reasons," Buzz tried, knowing his girlfriend was dangerous when angered. At least I can trigger Spanish mode, he thought. Woody didn't have that option.

"He'd better start talkin'! 'Cause I just might do somethin'!" Her eyes narrowed under her hat brim. But unlike most times, Woody wasn't intimidated.

"Jessie… I never told any of you, except Slink… It hurt too much…" His brown eyes met hers and the moment of clarity passed between brother and sister.

"Hurt?" Her eyes widened to their normal size.

"Yeah… It hurt too much, even with Andy to think about it…" And Woody continued on as the rain came down outside…

The box moved. Woody and Slink had been in storage for a very long time. Neither of them were exactly sure how much time had passed, but it seemed like an eternity of Christmases had come and gone. The box had been moved from one attic to another and a new voice had joined Timmy's. "You haven't opened this box in how long, honey?" a woman's warm voice asked.

"Not since I went off to college, but I can't wait anymore… our baby's going to be here soon," Timmy's muffled voice answered.

Slink and Woody, both startled, sat up in the darkness. "Baby?" they whispered in unison. And then the box landed with a thump on the floor. The toys heard the ripping of packing tape and went limp. The bright light blinded them and then…

"A Sheriff Woody doll!" the woman exclaimed, picking the cowboy doll up. "I used to have a Jessie the Cowgirl!"

"Emily, are you serious?"

"Emily?" Jessie yelped. Bonnie's original toys stared at the sudden interruption.

"Miss Jessie, what in the world requires such a boisterous exclamation? We were listening to Mr. Pride's narration!" Mr. Pricklepants stated in his British enunciations, frustrated.

Woody realized. "All that time… I didn't realize… Jessie… You were Andy's mom's toy…"

"She abandoned me!" Jessie cried as Buzz put his arms around her in comfort. "She…"

"I wasn't finished with this part," Woody told her.

"Yeah, I'm serious," Emily Jennifer Davis answered her husband, a sad and wistful expression on her face. "I used to have all of her merchandise from 'Woody's Roundup.' But when I was about 15, I gave her and the stuff to a charity. I thought maybe a younger kid might get joy from having her like I did… But I wonder what happened to her now…"

"I'll bet she found a great kid," Timmy answered. His brown eyes danced up and down the familiar sheriff's body his wife held. "And I know Woody and old Slinky will have a great kid too…"The couple placed the toys against her belly, and Woody felt a sudden thump from the side of her stomach…

"A week later, Andy was born…" Woody's face softened again, remembering when Timmy brought Andy into the room with the puffy clouds on the walls. "He came home and we both watched him grow. And we watched Timmy stay up at night with him, walk the floor… We watched him help Andy take his first steps… And then…"

Thirteen years ago, Timmy took Woody down from a high shelf. Andy was now four years old. "Daddy, is that your cowboy?"

"His name's Sheriff Woody, Andy, and we've known each other for a long time," Timmy grinned at his small son. "And I want you to play with him. You're old enough now."

"Really, Daddy? I can?" Little Andy had been waiting for this day ever since he could first reach for the doll. And Woody had been waiting for the day as well. He'd watched how the tiny boy had treated his toys with kindness, even in infancy. He somehow knew this little boy would love him as much as his father did. Sure enough, Andy took Woody into his arms and proceeded to play with him gently. Timmy looked on, a shadow of the boy he had been coming through his adult countenance.

"… I had the best of both worlds that day. My old kid was there and happy and my new kid was holding me and playing with me. Slink got into the action and some of the preschool toys were there. It feels like it was last week," Woody murmured. "And Emily even got down on the floor and played with us. I didn't think about it then, Jess, but I know she wished you were there."

The cowgirl's green eyes filled with tears. "She still loved me… And she just wanted me to have somebody to play with… She didn't mean to hurt me… And she grew up and I played with her boy…" She reached and twisted her red yarn braid with her hand, smiling after all this time. The memory of Emily had much less sting now. "But Woody, I still don't understand…"

"Jess…" Woody took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His little toy heart still ached, remembering when he learned a painful lesson. "There's something that's worse than being abandoned. We all know that our kids grow up, give us away, accidentally leave us somewhere… We see other toys die… But we rarely see humans die."

Buzz and Jessie exchanged horrified glances. All over Bonnie's room, the other toys gasped, except for Slinky. "Woody… pal, you ain't gotta…"

But Woody shook his head. "Slink… I shouldn't have kept this from any of them… Bo didn't even know…"

To his surprise, the old spring-connected dog shook his head. "She knew… But she didn't want to hurt you none…"

Jessie took her brother's hand. "Woody… Tell us what happened, if you can… I know humans die, but… You actually watched it happen?"

"Yeah… It started like any other day… Emily'd just found out she was pregnant with Molly…"

It had been like any other day. Andy had just started kindergarten and Woody joyfully rode in his boy's backpack to school, played in the yard and did pretty much whatever Andy wanted to do. When Andy got home on the bus, he had a snack before his father got home from work. Timmy strode through the door at five PM, looking tired but happy as he had since the news that he was again to be a father.

Andy was sitting in the family room, watching cartoons with Woody on his lap. "Hey, Dad!" the little boy chirped happily. "Woody and I are watching… Daddy?"

Tim Davis turned extremely pale and sank to one knee. "Andy… call Mommy… Daddy's not feeling good…" He held onto the couch as if it was a life preserver and a terrified small boy ran to get his mother. Woody fell to the floor, forgotten.

All Woody could do was watch, paralyzed in toy form, as Timmy clung to the couch in obvious pain. He had to watch as Emily raced into the room, phone in hand and a terrified small boy with her as they tried to help Timmy. The ambulance came and the family left the room. When he was sure it was safe, the little cowboy got up and climbed onto the windowsill. He could see Timmy being loaded into the ambulance and Emily and Andy getting into their minivan. "Timmy…"

He trudged upstairs, knowing he had to break the news to Slinky. The faithful dog was waiting at Andy's door. "Woody, I heard a commotion! What in the heck is goin' on?"The cowboy sighed and told him. "You don't mean…"

"Slink… he looked bad. I can't do anything…"

"No, you can't… All we can do now is wait…"

In the present, Woody laid his hands over his face. "And I waited… The next morning, Andy and Emily came home without Timmy… He was in the hospital."

Dolly, Bonnie's purple-haired ragdoll, looked up from her position on the floor. "Did he..?"

"Not there, Dolly," Woody answered, looking out toward the cemetery once more. "He stayed there for several days. I went with Andy sometimes. He'd go down to a kids' waiting area. I got to meet some puzzles and other toys that other kids brought. I didn't understand all that was going on. I know Andy didn't. And all I could do was be there to comfort Andy. Timmy came home a month later and everyone was resigned to whatever was going to happen. All of these different machines were brought into Timmy and Emily's bedroom. She stayed with him and a nurse came every day. Andy, Slink and I played in there a lot. Emily worked on planning a nursery and worked part-time while Timmy's mom or Emily's mom came to watch Andy.

"And then, about a month after that, Timmy really started to go downhill." Woody closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears. "He got weaker. When he came home, he was able to go down the hall without any help. But one morning, he couldn't get out of bed." The tears began to fall. "Emily had to call the nurse… Timmy was too heavy for Emily to move on her own. And about three weeks later, Emily brought Andy into his mom and dad's bedroom." Woody's voice began to shake as he recalled that time not quite twelve years before, on a cool fall day…

The cowboy doll rode in his second kid's arms into the room as his first kid was not long for this world. Emily was trying bravely not to cry herself, but tears came down her face. Andy was making no such effort to hide his tears as he approached his father. "Daddy… what's gonna happen to you now?" the little boy asked.

"Andy… I'm going to be with Great-Grandpa Opie and Great-Grandma Iris…" Timmy's once-vibrant eyes were dull and his skin was the color of parchment. "And… I need you to help Mom when the new baby comes. Mom'll do fine and Grandma, Grandpa, Granddad and Grandmom will be here to help too."

"But it's not like you being here…" It was a plaintive child's cry and yet it echoed all of the people who loved Timmy, including a small cowboy doll and a dog made of springs and wood. "Woody's gonna miss you too…"

The small boy held the doll out to his dad and Timmy took Woody for the last time. Woody mentally sighed; the moment was bittersweet. I'm in Timmy's arms… He could feel his first boy's slowly cooling body as the now-adult hugged him with a blotchy hand.

"Hey, Woody," Timmy murmured. Woody could hear a strange rattling sound in the man's chest as he lay on it. Other than that brief greeting, Timmy said nothing more to the toy, but perhaps nothing more needed to be said. When no one was looking, the cowboy rested his head against Timmy and closed his eyes. He didn't know how long it was that he laid there and listened to the man's breathing and as he talked to his loved ones. And then Timmy's voice fell away.

The nurse came to the side of the bed, as did a man in a white jacket. The man in the white jacket checked Timmy's pulse. "It's just a matter of time now, but keep talking to him…"

They talked. And then, as the rain came down on the cool fall night, Timmy Davis left the world. He was still holding Woody as his last breath left him. The doctor checked his patient, now a lifeless husk, and pronounced the man's end. He and the nurse left the room to call the coroner and Woody took the opportunity to climb up to Timmy's ear. "I love you, Timmy. I promise I'll watch out for Andy," he whispered. When the doctor returned, it looked as if Woody had shifted slightly in his first owner's arms.

Woody finished his tale, tears coming down his face as they had come down on that night about twelve years before. "Jess, Buzz… guys… I couldn't tell you. It hurt too much…" His voice broke and in a trice, Jessie and Buzz both enfolded him. On the floor, Slinky was crying too, finding himself held by his fellow toys.

"Woody," Jessie said finally, "I'm glad you told… Now I know… And maybe you'll see Timmy again. Stinky Pete told me about the Big Round-up in the Sky once… It's a place where all the toys and critters go when they die. You can play with other toys… And someday, you might see the kids you played with. I asked other toys what they believed about where we go. One of Sarge's men said we don't go nowhere… We just are lifeless pieces of whatever we're made of. Totoro's told me that we go to a great forest where everyone's happy…" She nodded at the Japanese stuffed toy who smiled mysteriously. "I ain't sure what I believe, but I like the idea of seein' everyone again somehow… So maybe Timmy's waitin'…"

Woody nodded, but still looked tormented. "How do we know what really is, though? How do we know we are going somewhere?"

"We don't know, Woody," Buzz answered softly. "We believe what we believe, and I believe that someday when I finally am beyond repair, I'll go beyond infinity and you, Jessie and everyone else will be there… And that includes Andy, Bonnie and anyone else any of us has ever cared about…" The space toy had truthfully never thought about dying, but that moment when he and the other toys had faced death because of Lots-o-Huggin' Bear's treachery made him wonder if there was something beyond the here-and-now.

Slinky nodded too. "I guess that's a good way of lookin' at it, Buzz… I ain't sure if there's anything after this, but I like that view of things. But Woody, no matter what is or ain't after here, I know we're here for each other now."

Woody wiped his eyes, looking back at the cemetery. "I know that, Slink… And I'm glad I have all of you… But I know I'm never going to stop missing Timmy or Andy… Or even Bonnie when the time comes."

Chuckles, a rather sad-faced clown doll, nodded wisely. "You never forget your first kid," he murmured, a certain little girl's face swimming into his consciousness. He hoped that Daisy had grown up well. "But you never really forget that she loved you…"

Woody managed a smile at that. "Thanks, Chuckles." As he stared out at the place where Timmy was interred, for the first time in years, the cowboy doll remembered the playtime and not the last days. As dawn approached, he and the other toys took their positions around their girl. Woody sat and watched her sleep as he had watched two boys before. Love was infinite even if life wasn't.

THE END