So I saw a gifset of Woody and Bo Peep on Tumblr today and decided to give myself so many feels. I'm sorry in advance. I am so, so sorry.
Disclaimer: I don't own Toy Story. Pixar does.
It happened when Andy was fourteen. Molly was six, and it was an accident.
Bo Peep, porcelain and oh-so-delicate, stood on a stand, her staff standing like it always did. She could be taken off, moved around the small area around her three sheep. The lamp was old, old and Molly was outgrowing it, yet it stayed. Andy made it so because he felt a need to keep her, to keep Little Bo Peep. It was probably a form of nostalgia, the same reason he still had the trunk of old toys.
The siblings were playing a simple game of tag. They were running and laughing, smiling up a storm. Molly, so small at her young age with shoulder-length hair, was behind her bed, jumping from side-to-side to get away from her brother and around the bed.
The stand which the lamp was on was next to her, on the other side of her bed. Molly jumped, landing on the bed to get around her brother and to dart for the door.
Her foot slipped, heading back swiftly. It happened so fast, so quickly that no one could do anything. And Andy didn't really understand what happened until the porcelain figure was in pieces on the ground. It was the angle that Molly's foot hit her, that it only knocked the fragile figure from her normal place.
The lamp still stood, spinning for a second before landing in its place. The sheep would have moved, would have called for the other toys if the kids weren't there.
Molly made a go to see what happened, but Andy moved quicker, commanding his younger sister to stay on the bed, away from the sharp pieces. Their mother heard the crash from downstairs, yelling from the living room what happened and if anyone was hurt.
Andy replied with a no, still staring at the shattered pieces of Little Bo Peep.
Her Shepard's staff was still intact, along with her head. But her bonnet had broken off, giving her the appearance that her hair was two different colors and pulled into a bun. Her torso was gone, along with the majority of her poofy dress.
Andy didn't say anything, only briefly thinking of Woody. Oh, god, no. Bo Peep, he would recall. I'm so sorry, Woody.
It was probably thinking about the toy, and all the good times the two love birds had together, that sent a rip through his heart.
Andy let his fingers work open the chest, lifting it up with familiar ease. He stared at the endless amount of toys that loitered in the Western Wagon. With a slow, painful motion, he gripped the cowboy from the top of the pile.
Leaving the lid open, the teenager sat down on the swivel chair by his desk. "Woody, it's been awhile," he began, staring down at Woody and fixing the cowboy's hat with a hand. "And I'm sorry."
There was a painful silence as something settled in the toy's stomach, despite not being able to move while someone living was in the room. And he understood then, by the way his owner looked at the lamp on the desk, at the way there was a shard of painted pink porcelain in his hand that kept spinning.
"It was an accident, and Mom got rid of the pieces. Little Bo Peep is gone."
If Woody was able to move, he's sure a frown would fall across his smiling face. If he was living, he would be sure a tear would fall across his face. But he couldn't, and Andy was staring right at him.
A few moments passed before Andy placed Woody on his desk, placing the porcelain piece next to the cowboy. The door closed a few seconds after, leaving the cowboy to move and look at what was next to him.
But he didn't.
He just blinked a few times and stared at the ceiling.
His fingers moved after a minute, clipping onto the staff that he knew was next to him. The fine wood held on to his plastic hand, and he recalled a time when he was smiling and so close to Bo Peep with the same staff wrapped around his neck. He remembered all the times he had kissed her, how he had fallen in love with her, of how he wished she was with him when they were gone.
But there would be no more of those times, because she was gone and swept away into the trash.
Both of them yearned for a final farewell.