'Bonnie! Time to go home,' Bonnie's mother calls and Bonnie sets off at a jog across the playground, pack bouncing on her back and shaking the toys curled inside it. Woody, Buzz and Jessie are thrown together at the bottom, leaning together companionably, while the peas, still excited by this rare trip out of the house, are perched at the opening watching the playground appear in flashes as the loose cover flaps back and forth. Their empty pod catches on Jessie's foot as the pack bounces and she flicks it off, earning a scowl from Woody as she nearly kicks him. The sound of children calling and laughing nearby mingles with the creak of the swings and seesaw and the clang of sneakers on metal bars. It's been a good afternoon, they've saved the playground three times and had a tea party with another girl and some Barbie dolls.
Bonnie's foot catches on something and, although she rights herself before falling, the sudden jounce knocks Peanelope loose, sending her hurtling from the backpack. Jessie snatches at her with both hands, only for the pea to fall away in front of her leaving her staring down dismayed while, beside her, Peatey starts to sniffle. Suddenly Woody pushes past her, wriggling out of the backpack and dropping to the ground. He lands on his feet, arms whirling for balance, and looks around frantically for Peanelope. When she bounces up to him he snatches her up and throws her overarm at the still moving backpack, this time Jessie's hands close safely around the pea and pull her in to safety.
Woody grins at Jessie, pleased with himself for the rescue, and starts to chase after them. For a moment it seems as if everything will be okay, but the sudden appearance of a group of children heading into the park causes him to go limp, flopping to the ground in front of Jessie's dismayed eyes. Small sneakered feet kick him into the bushes without even noticing he's there. Then Bonnie's in the car park and soon the backpack is thrown into Bonnie's mother's car.
'Check the backpack, please check the backpack,' Jessie mouths silently. Buzz squeezes her shoulder, his own eyes as anxious as hers. But the engine starts and the car pulls out without anyone noticing there's a toy missing. Jessie covers her face with her hands, instinctively hiding tears that aren't really there.
'He'll be fine,' whispers Buzz. 'Woody's been lost before. He'll know what to do.'
But they're so vulnerable. With the amount of children in the playground Woody won't even be able to move. All it takes is for one of them to decide to take him home. Or worse, decide to amuse themselves by breaking a toy they didn't have to spend money on. The peas are huddled up together in their pod, worried about the trouble they've caused. Jessie glares at them and they hastily zip themselves away.
'What if he ain't?' Jessie asks. Buzz hesitates then shyly pulls her close, she drops her head to rest on his shoulder taking comfort in how solid he is against her.
'He will be,' Buzz answers firmly. 'I'm certain of it.'
X
Woody groans and pulls himself into a sitting position. He's managed to crawl far enough into the bushes that he should be out of sight if he doesn't move much. He's lost his hat. Again. And he's lost his owner. Also again. Ten years ago he would have been panicking about now, but he just feels old. Okay, he needs a plan. Bonnie's bound to realise the park is the last place she had him and she'll come back to look for him. Of course she will. So he needs to be somewhere conspicuous when she turns up, but not so conspicuous someone else picks him up in the meantime. Maybe he should head for the car park? There'll be less kids around there for the most part, and he'll be able to keep an eye out for Bonnie arriving.
He sets out for the car park on hands and knees, pushing branches out of the way as quietly as possible. A few times he has to go back and unhook his pullstring before it can give him away. Freezing every time footsteps get too close, constantly keeping an ear out, makes the journey seem to take forever. Soil is ingraining itself into his knees. Just great, he's going to need washing when all this is over and he hates the way getting his stuffing soggy feels.
There! The car park, but he can't see all of it from here. There's a flowerbed in the middle, dividing two lines of parking spaces. If he can just reach that he'll have the perfect vantage point. Even if Bonnie doesn't see him he can climb into her car and he'll be home in no time. Woody crouches at the edge of the flowerbed, eyes darting back and forth. No people, all the cars are parked. Okay. On three. One, two -
Something grabs Woody from behind, something huge, wet and crushingly powerful. The sound of an inquiring human voice causes him to go limp instead of screaming as the German Shepherd bounds across the car park with him in its mouth.
'What have you got there, boy? An old toy?'
A muffled bark and Woody finds himself tossed into the air, only to be caught in the dog's mouth again and shaken.
'Well, we can't play with it here. Wait 'til we're in the dog park. Now, heel.'
The dog falls into place behind its master, trotting along happily with Woody held tightly in its jaws.
Woody does his best to fall unconscious during the ensuing playtime. It's not the worst thing that's ever happened to him (the incinerator tops, followed by Sid trying to burn a hole in his head) but it's far from pleasant. It's not so much being thrown around and shaken, he's a rag doll and that's what he's made for, as the knowledge that neither the man nor the dog care if they break him in the process. And there's nothing at all he can do except endure.
A smaller dog, a terrier, runs over. It seems as if the dogs know each other, their owners must because Woody can hear them chatting in the background, and the German Shepherd drops Woody into the grass as he greets his friend. Please, please, let them forget about me, Woody thinks, but luck hasn't been with him so far today and it's not about to cut him a break now. The terrier grabs him by one leg, running off with its tail held high and Woody dangling from its mouth. The German Shepherd chases after it, closing its jaws around Woody's body and trying to take him back. It turns into a friendly tug of war between the dogs, with Woody caught in the middle and feeling his stitching start to go. The humans aren't looking, he risks giving the terrier a kick on the nose, but terriers are notoriously stubborn and it just growls and pulls harder.
Pain runs up the inside of Woody's left leg like a line of fire as the stitches pull out with a chorus of soft pops. The pain numbs immediately afterwards, it's breaking that hurts not being broken. But the dogs just keep pulling, sending little jabs of pain as the seam pulls further and further and stuffing starts to spill out. Finally, mercifully, their owners call them back over and Woody is dropped into the grass. Abandoned in favour of a ball, and then left altogether as the two dogs and their owners wander back towards the car park.
Once they're gone Woody sits up and curls forward, arms wrapped tightly around his middle and gasping for breath. He doesn't even want to see how badly he's hurt, afraid of what he'll find. He can't walk, Bonnie won't find him here, anyone who does find him will drop him in the nearest trashcan. Then it will be a one way trip back to the incinerator and the others won't even know what happened to him.
'This is no time to panic,' he says aloud, imagining it in Buzz's Space Ranger voice, the one he uses when he's being especially confident or determined. Too bad Buzz isn't here, Woody hates to admit it but he could really use rescuing about now. 'Okay, time to see how bad it is.'
It's bad. He's not actually missing a limb this time, but his left leg is now a shapeless tube of cloth with its stuffing scattered over the dog park. Woody presses his hand against his forehead and forces himself to think. He can't walk but he can still crawl. The car park can't be that far and if he can make it there then Bonnie will find him.
Woody nearly makes it. Along the way he finds a stick, probably thrown for a dog earlier, that he uses as a crutch, allowing him to limp rather than crawl, but car headlights too nearby make him drop on the edge of the car park. He dares to raise his head a little, squinting against the light in hope of seeing Bonnie. But it's not her and it's not her mother, it's another woman Woody doesn't know and he goes properly limp. But as she gets out of the car she catches sight of his still form. A hand closes around him, surprisingly gentle for someone picking up a dirty and broken toy.
'Poor thing,' the woman murmurs. Then he's dropped into a plastic bag. What's happening? Is he trash? But she didn't look as if she was going to throw him away, she looked almost tender. Woody scrabbles at the inside of the bag, but he can't break the plastic. When the woman looks into the bag with a frown, trying to work out why she felt something moving in there, Woody realises he can't escape. Exhausted and hopeless he slumps to the bottom of the bag and falls into an unwilling sleep.