Disclaimer. I don't own Monsters, Inc or any of the characters in the movie. Though I'd like too. For I'd write a better ending for poor Randall.

Ok so now I'm writing fan fiction about Randall Boggs. Come on. I don't have a life so to speak, what else am I going to do with my time? I want to thank my wonderful beta Luna Rei for all her help!

Thank you!

A side note. I want to thank all that have read and reviewed.

Chapter 3

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When the creature tore through the stall door, Danielle had only just registered the fact that it could talk and, in her disbelief, had managed to back up a few steps. It landed on her hard and pulled the first two sets of arms back, the claws clenched tightly into fists. The first two landed above her head as the lower set slammed into the dirt by her sides. The entire time he was snarling, lips curled in hate.

Danielle realized that he wasn't trying to fight her but someone else, someone who was much bigger and wider than she was. Knowing she had to do something before one of those fists actually hit her, she reached out and pulled the shovel that was, luckily, lying nearby. She wrapped her hand around it and brought it closer. The sound of the shovel dragging through the dirt caused the creature to freeze. Its slited eyes went to the shovel and little moans began to escape from its throat. Using this chance, Danielle slid away from it and slowly began to stand, letting the creature get a good look at the shovel in her hands. As she stood, the creature took a few steps back, the small moans becoming pitifully heartbreaking. She kept the shovel in her hands, but lowered it, watching the creature closely. His eyes - eyes that were becoming clearer - followed it. They were green, she noticed, a beautiful emerald green that flashed pain, confusion and terror.

She watched as he backed all the way up, back into the stall, and pressed his body against the splintered wood. His lower arms were wringing themselves in a helpless motion while his top arms were held up as if to keep her away. She took a cautious step toward him. His eyes snapped up, focusing fully on the shovel in her hands, and grew wider. The three fronds flared up, then flattened themselves against his skull.

"No!" There was such anguish in his voice - his voice - that she froze, staring. "Not again…leave me alone!"

Danielle continued to stare, dumbfounded. "You can speak. I didn't imagine it. You're not an animal." Licking her lips nervously, she debated whether or not to keep the shovel, but she knew if she did, she'd never get anywhere with him. He wasn't an animal she could calm with nonsense syllables, but an intelligent being that, hopefully, could fully understand her. Taking a few deep wheezing breaths, silently willing her asthma away, she made her decision.

Catching his gaze, she spoke softly to him. "You must promise," she said. "You must promise that, if I put this shovel down," she saw him wince at the word 'shovel,' "You will not attack me again."

Eyes becoming clear and more aware by the second, he looked from her face to the shovel, as if debating. Finally, slowly, as if movement was painful, which, all things considered, it probably was, he nodded.

Taking another much needed breath, she tossed the shovel away. In a blur, the creature was upon her. It moved so fast that she barely had time to blink. The fronds were standing straight up as it stood in front of her staring at her. Its mouth was open in a snarl as its hot breath hit her face. All she could do was stand there staring back in its eyes, too afraid to move.

The exchange was intense and profound. Suddenly it collapsed, panting on the ground, trying to gather the energy to stand up.

Danielle stepped back and then kneeled. If it was as intelligent as she was beginning to think it was, she'd try reasoning with it. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said softly.

The head swung toward her and its eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word.

At first Danielle was confused as to why it didn't speak again, but then it dawned on her: It was trying to play dumb, as if it knew the dangers of being an unknown, talking creature. Intelligent indeed. "Look here," she tried softly, "I know you can talk. I heard you. Now, you are badly injured, and I would like to help you. If you stop acting like a dumb animal, which I know you aren't, I can help treat you better and even get you moved out of this barn." She winced slightly, her words sounding a little harsh to her own ears, but she had to get the ground set and everyone more relaxed.

The creature pulled his legs up under him, attempting to move his broken one. He winced and looked down at the splinted leg, then back at her. Heaving a sigh, he nodded. "Yes. I can talk."

Finally glad that that milestone was over, Danielle sighed. "Ok. Good. Now I suppose you have a name?"

Again he paused. "Randall. Randall Boggs."

"I'm Danielle DeMarsh." She stood and Randall watched her warily. She had to get him off the ground. It wasn't cold but he was still too injured and, with all of his shuffling around, dirt had more than likely gotten into his wounds. They would need cleaning again. Now that she knew he was an intelligent being, she couldn't very well leave him in the barn. But…that would mean moving him to her house, which was easier said than done. "Ok then. Let's get you up and into the house."

He stopped fidgeting in the dirt and looked up at her. "What?"

"I'm going to move you into the house," she repeated slowly, wondering if she'd said something he couldn't understand. "Unless you want to stay out here in the barn?" Danielle added, her hands on her wide hips.

Randall looked around and shook his head. He seemed to brighten up at the prospect of leaving.

Taking this as a positive sign, Danielle went over to him cautiously and knelt down. "Do you think you can walk now?" she asked softly. "I know that your leg is broken but you do seem to have….uhm…three others?"

"I can walk." A slight attitude crept into his voice. At that he stood up, balancing on three of his legs easily, though he swayed a bit, somewhat off balance.

Danielle noticed this and moved forward, noticing as she did so that he was only an inch or two shorter then her. He saw this and flinched away. Stepping back, she gave him a bit of space. She knew he was fine standing, but, if he went to walk after his sudden burst of energy, he would fall. The head wounds weren't helping his balance either.

"Let me help you," Danielle offered.

This time, more attitude crept into his face and voice. He curled his lip at her in disgust and narrowed his eyes. "I don't need help!" He tried to walk. Right away, he stumbled, landing on his broken leg that he had held up. His angry face turned into a mask of pain. He twisted, doing a strange dance like twist and fell heavily into the barn's wall. The purple coloring he had before changed to a deep olive green as he began to dry heave.

Danielle took a moment to blink at the sudden and unexpected color change, and then shook it off, deciding to muse over it later. Sighing impatiently, but with sympathy, she reached out to grasp his arm and he held up his hands in defense, pushing her away as if he expected her to attack him. His purple coloring returned as he scrambled back to his feet, leaning heavily on the side of the barn. His breath came in short, panting gasps that hissed through his teeth.

Danielle rushed forward, catching him as he fell. He flinched violently at her touch, but she didn't let go.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, but she continued to hold him. Now that he wasn't completely dead weight, she could hold him better.

"I have to get out of here," he said, sounding a bit hysteric. "I have to get to a closet and get back. And I need you to stop touching me human." The last bit was growled out, but Danielle felt it was just for show. For one thing, he wasn't even fighting her, though his flesh seemed to twitch under her touch.

Danielle shook her head. "Do you really think you can get away from here on your own? Randall, you are very much hurt. You have a broken leg and your head…well it's not good. You've got to let me help you. Will you come with me? I'll help you to the house. Then I'll let you go. I'll be able to clean those wounds and you can sleep."

"How…can I…trust you?" He swung his head around and faced her, studying her carefully.

"What choice do you have?"

Randall shuddered and then a heavy sigh racked his body. Finally he nodded, making up his mind. "Ok."

"The house isn't far from the barn. I'll help you to the back door, then we'll go from there." Danielle looked him over critically. "You can barely stand, so hold on."

"Wait, what?"

Danielle didn't answer him but only shifted and wrapped her right arm around his upper middle just under his first set of arms and above his second set. She felt him stiffen, so she waited until he relaxed enough to continue. "Good? Ok, let's move," she crooned and began to move forward. He began to fight her slightly. "Come on. Lean on me," she instructed.

The way he shuddered against her told her how frightened he still was. He seemed reluctant to let her help him, half pulling away as he struggled to walk straight.

"Come on," she hissed, her own breaths becoming labored after his third attempt to pull away. "I'll let you go as soon as we're in the house. You can hold onto things once we're there."

They made it past the barn doors and his eyes darted around the yard as they stepped out into the dim morning light. It was going to be hazy and humid today she noted. Thankfully, the house wasn't far from the barn. He wasn't that heavy but he moved stiffly, as if he disliked her touch. They paused at the door. There were only two steps, thankfully. He pulled away, but, as he stood on his own without swaying too much, she allowed it. They rested for a moment while she wiped sweat from her forehead. Pulling the inhaler out of her pocket, she breathed deep, her lungs aching. When she was done, she glanced at Randall and was surprised to see sweat on him too. He was panting a little and raised a three fingered hand to wipe at his own head. He winced in pain as they brushed the long sewn gash. He moved his hand to the fronds that were drooping and wiped the sweat from them instead. He glanced at her, noticing her watching him with a slight shocked look on her face.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"You're sweating." Danielle grimaced at how stupid that sounded coming out of her mouth.

Apparently, he thought so too, for a mean, sarcastic glint came into his green eyes and the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk. "Of course. It's hot. You're sweating as well."

"It's just…never mind." She shook herself and slipped around him to open the door. Walking in, she turned back and waited for Randall to step up into the house. He did so, reaching out with his hands and holding onto the white countertops as he slowly moved into the house. Right away, his eyes swiped over the layout of the house as if he was searching for something. The screen door suddenly slammed behind him. His eyes widened in fear as he darted forward and crashed into Danielle, pushing her. She fell back into the doorway's corner. She let out a small cry of pain as she was thrown back against the sharp corner of the wooden door frame.

As he stepped back from her, trying to steady himself, Danielle discovered that Randall's entire body was patterned like her clothes. Blue on his torso and brown on his lower body. He even had the same pattern as the clothes. Again she stared wide eyed at him, wondering if chameleon-like abilities were normal for him or if this was some symptom caused by his injuries, which she had no idea how to treat. As Danielle stood back up and rubbed her back, he looked at her face then down at himself. He let out an annoyed groan and quickly turned back to his dark purple color. "Man, I hate when that happens," he mumbled to himself.

"That's common then?" Danielle asked, relieved by his lack of surprise.

Not even glancing at her, he nodded, groaning at the pain of the movement. "Yes." He didn't offer any more, so she left it at that. Danielle stood there for a moment before she took in his appearance again. The wounds around his head were swollen and oozing a bit. The coloring was also a darker purple, which she guessed was bruising. His body was dirty, the sweat leaving streaks in his dust covered body.

He needed a bath.

"How about a shower? You can take a shower or a bath, can't you?"

While standing still, he rolled his great green eyes over to her. "Of course, human. Can you?"

Danielle frowned at him, but let his rudeness slide. She only hoped he wasn't like this all the time. He was hurt and for now she'd overlook his rudeness. "Ok. Though, I don't know how to get you in the tub with the splint," she said as she eyed the broken leg, "Maybe if I…"

"Look here! I'm getting better on my feet. If you just point me in the direction of the bathroom, I can take it from there," he interrupted her, crossing one set of his arms and holding onto the doorframe with the other set.

"But…"

"Trust me, I won't fall," he said in dismissal.

"Fine, but I'll be nearby. Come on." Hearing him mumble something, but choosing to ignore it, she led him toward the bathroom. He did a fairly good job at walking by holding onto the walls and keeping his leg up, though he was covered with a new sheen of sweat by the time they reached the bathroom. He stepped past her and made it on his own into the tub. Danielle continued to stand there, watching in amazement as the 'lizard' she had rescued last night reached out with shaking hands and turned on the water. He had tolerated her presence in the bathroom as he had gotten into the tub, but now he turned his head to her still standing in the doorway. "Do you mind human?"

She held her hands up and backed out.

Once out of the bathroom, she set about making up the bed in her old room. When her parents had given her the house after they moved to Florida she had moved into their room, it having a private bath and a wonderful view of the swamp, with Spanish moss covering the trees. She had turned her older sister's room into a study and her childhood room she had left alone. The only thing new in the room was the twin bed. She placed some ivory colored fitted sheets and flats sheets on the bed and tossed a chocolate brown comforter on the bed. She went back to the kitchen and pulled out the first aid kit before walking back to the bathroom. The shower had stopped running and she wanted to clean his wounds before they did any more damage. It wouldn't do if they got infected.

After five minutes of no sound, she got worried and knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again. "Randall. Randall…Boggs?" she called. Still nothing. She pushed the door open.

He was standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself. The towel was in his upper hands and the lower limbs were slack. For some reason the sight of this 5 foot 4 purple/lilac colored eight limbed talking intelligent lizard staring at himself brought tears to her eyes. He looked so depressed and so lost.

Finally noticing her, his look hardened and became aloof again. "What?" his aggressiveness was back too.

"Nothing, though you look tired. Let's get these wounds cleaned and then get you to bed." She walked into the bathroom and took the towel from his hands and gently guided him to the toilet. After instructing him to sit and, after some maneuvering on his part, he was soon resting on the toilet. He surprisingly didn't fight her, most likely too busy fighting down nausea and dizziness. It was too much too fast. Danielle finished drying his torso and back with the towel. She stepped back, as a quick glance at him told her that she would have to hurry. He was getting even more exhausted by the minute. She set the first aid kit up on the sink and opened it. Then she turned to his head, which was hanging in exhaustion. He was silent too, almost as if he was lost in his own world. She gently lifted his head with her left hand, causing him to wince at the contact. She looked at the gash that she had stitched together and cursed when she saw pus oozing out of the gash. It was dripping with infection and dirt. It wasn't because of her inability to clean it. Whatever had given him this gash had been really dirty.

She began to scrub it as gently as she could while still trying to clean it thoroughly. She winced when he hissed in pain. She had stitched it up good, so she wasn't worried about the stitches; it was what was under the stitching. Pus poured out through the stitches until it ran red. She then cleaned up the blood and put an antibiotic cream on the long gash. As she began to treat the other, lesser cuts, she noticed he was watching her the entire time. The big green eyes were nonaggressive, unreadable.

"So I take it that you got tangled up with the LaGide family?" she asked.

"The LaGide family? I don't know them, but the ones that did this...there was an old human female. She hit me with a," here he paused and swallowed, "A shovel. There was a boy, he drug me out of the house and dumped me out there like garbage. LIKE GARBAGE!" his voice rose, but he didn't move, too exhausted to do so.

"A shovel? Yep, it was the LaGide family. They're known to do that. They are forever dumping dead animals in my yard or shoving them in the mailbox. No wonder this is already infected. That shovel of theirs probably hasn't been cleaned since the day they bought it." Danielle finished her cleaning and rewrapped his head.

She then turned to his leg. Kneeling down and looking over the splint, she was glad to see that he had kept it dry. She wrapped another set of ace bandages around it and looked back up. She started slightly when she saw him looking down at her. She cursed herself for being so jumpy, but she had to admit that, while his eyes were beautiful, they were also creepy. A slow, tired grin crossed his face when he saw that he had startled her. The sharp teeth came into view, splitting his face into an even creepier look.

She stood back up. "Ok, let's get you to bed." She reached for him.

The smile vanished and he waved her off. "I can do it, human."

"At least let me show you where you can lie down," Danielle said, slightly exasperated.

He slowly followed her to another room. As she led him in she saw a look of excitement cross his face as he looked around at what appeared to be a little girl's room. Looking around threw him off balance and Danielle caught him before he could fall again. "That does it. Come on," she said, guiding him to the bed.

Danielle pushed him gently toward the bed and he allowed it. He gratefully crawled up into the bed and stretched his entire 12 foot frame out and sighed contently. Sleep was coming fast, but before he could slip into the blackness, he asked an odd question.

"Do you have any kids?"

"What?" Danielle laughed lightly. "Of course not."

An exasperated groan followed. "Any younger siblings? Hell, any human child living here?"

"No. Why do you ask…oh…the room? This was my old childhood room. I just keep it as it was."

There was no reply, so she slipped out the door and just as she left, she turned and looked at Randall. He was staring at the closet longingly and she thought she heard a small, sad whimper.