Woody stood in shock, unable to move, unable to speak. Why had this happened? He thought to himself. Why William? If the knight was that upset with him, why did he have to kill William? And poor Betsy. It was all his fault. None of this would've happened if he had just did what Marcus told him all of those months ago, and left. It was all his fault.

"So, sheriff. What will it be?" Marcus jeered, walking towards Betsy. He pulled out a sharp pair of scissors that he had left on Chance's nightstand. "Will you leave now? Or will I let Betsy meet her boyfriend?" He pressed the scissors against Betsy's back, grabbing her ponytail so she wouldn't escape.

"Betsy!" Woody screamed, running towards the doll.

"You best be staying where you are, cowboy." Marcus threatened, digging the tip of the scissors into her back. "Sheriff, I suggest you leave now." Betsy turned her head and looked at the sheriff sadly. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead just shook her head.

"Betsy, I'm so sorry..." Woody said.

"I'm running out of patience." Marcus said, pushing the blade in farther. Betsy winced in pain, but didn't scream, afraid of what Marcus would do.

"Fine!" Woody shouted desperately. "I'll leave, I'll leave, just stop it!" Marcus smirked, and pulled the scissors out of Betsy's back.

"Good."

Without another word, Woody headed towards the windowsill. When he got there, he turned and noticed a crowd of toys had gathered around below him.

"Where are you going, Woody?" The frowning teddy bear asked. The toys were unaware of what happened to William.

"I'm... just leaving." Woody replied, not wanting to hurt his friends. He turned to get one final glimpse of Marcus and Betsy. They stared back at him, Betsy looking hopeless, Marcus looking smug. "You better take care of Chance."

"No problem!" Marcus snickered. And with that, Woody pulled open the window, and looked at the white, snow-covered ground below him. He gulped, bracing himself for the fall.

"Goodbye, everyone." Woody said, then jumped out of the window.

Woody screamed as he plummeted to the ground. He landed face down in the cold snow, and slowly lifted himself up. He glanced back at the window to Chance's room, only to find that it had been shut. Then he looked at the window on the bottom floor. Chance was there with his family, drinking hot chocolate and ripping presents open eagerly. Woody sighed and began to trudge through the deep snow, away from the house.

"Goodbye, Chance." He whispered.

Woody walked alone in the pouring snow all day. He didn't have to worry about being seen. It was Christmas, and everyone was inside their warm houses with their families. He couldn't help but feel alone. One of his best friends was dead because of him. One of his other best friends was injured because of him. And now he was leaving his owner, his family, and everything that mattered to him. Eventually the day wore away, and nightfall came. The freezing snow didn't let up, so Woody was left to sleep under a park bench for the night. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Woody looked around for a moment, figuring out where he was. It was dark, and cold. All around him was blackness, and he couldn't see a thing.

"Where am I?" He asked himself. He looked around a little longer, but without prevail.

"You're here, Woody." A voice said. Suddenly a bright spotlight appeared out of nowhere, beaming down on Woody and nearly blinding him.

"Who- who are you?" Woody shouted to the darkness.

"It's me." A light appeared a couple feet away from Woody. It shined on William, who's back was facing him.

"William?" Woody asked, walking towards his friend. Woody placed a hand on his shoulder, but as soon as they touched, William burst into a million pieces. Woody jumped back as the pieces clung to his neck, choking him.

"WHY DID YOU LET THIS HAPPEN TO ME?" His voice screamed amongst the shreds.

"I...I..." Woody struggled to speak, the pieces constricting his throat tighter. He lifted his arms, trying to pull the shreds off his neck. But then out of nowhere, a sharp pair scissors chopped off his right arm. He screamed in pain, as yet another spotlight appeared. In it was Betsy, who was on her knees, sobbing into her hands. "B-betsy..." She looked up at him, her green eyes filled with tears.

"Woody..." She said quietly. She walked towards him, a lifeless look on her face. She placed her hand on Woody's remaining arm. "This... is your fault." She gripped his arm, and viciously ripped it off.

"NO!" Woody screamed, waking up with a start. He looked around for a moment, wondering where he was. "It... was just a dream..." He sighed in relief. But his happiness was short-lived when he realized that he was frozen to the ground. During the night, he must have rolled out from under the bench, letting the snow pile on top of him. "This is just great!" He moaned, twisting his arms and legs, attempting to move, but it was hopeless. Now all he could do was wait.

"Sandy! Don't run, or else you'll slip!" A woman's voice shouted. Woody could hear fast-moving feet heading towards him.

"I'll be fine, mommy! Just fi-" But the girl slipped, landing face first into the snow.

"Sandy! Are you okay?" Her mother called. Sandy opened her eyes, and saw the cowboy doll lying beneath her. She smiled and pulled him out, just as her mom caught up to her. "Are you alright, Sandy?"

"I'm fine, mommy! Look what I found!" She held the Woody doll up to her mom.

"Honey, put that back. It could be covered with germs!" Her mother warned.

"But- but mom! I cut my leg open, and it hurrrts!" She whimpered. "It'll make me feel better!" She began to cry.

"Alright, alright! You can keep it!" Her mother said, exasperated. "Please stop crying."

"Okay!" Sandy said, smiling. She took off her pink mitten, and wrapped it around her leg as a temporary band-aid.

"Let's go home, we need to cover that up." Her mother took her hand, as Sandy clutched Woody tightly.

Sandy was a five-year-old girl, with short, dirty-blonde hair. She had giant blue eyes, and freckles covered her white skin. Her room was a sight. It was bright pink everywhere, with pink walls, pink carpet, pink bedspread...pink everything. In the corner of the room, she had a pile of toys that were mostly plush, and on her bed sat a Snow White doll.

"Here! I'll put you right next to Snow White!" Sandy said, placing Woody on her bed. "You are covered in snow! You must be freezing...and you know what that means!" She stared at Woody, waiting for a reply. "That's right! It's tea-time!" She grabbed Woody and Snow White, then a plastic table and chairs. She had them sit down, as she got the tea cups, and filled them up with water from a water bottle. "Your tea is served!" She said in her most fancy accent. "Well, how is it?"

"It's delicious!" She exclaimed as Snow White.

"Well, what do you think?" She asked Woody. She pulled his pull string.

"There's a snake in my boot!" He replied. She spat out the 'tea'. And backed away in fear.

"S-snake? Snakes? Not snakes!" She ran out of the room, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Sorry about that. She's afraid of snakes." Snow White said. She smiled at Woody. "Well, it's nice to see a new face around here. What's your name?"

"I'm, uh, Woody." Woody replied. "But look, I need to get out of here."

"Why's that?" Snow White asked. But before Woody could reply, Sandy ran into the room, holding a baseball bat in her hands.

"Alright, where is it?" Sandy asked, running around the room. She searched through her stuffed animals, her closet, everywhere, beating the floor with her bat until her mother told her to quiet down.

After the sun set, Sandy went to bed, tucking Woody, Snow White, and a couple of stuffed animals into bed with her. She fell asleep quickly, clutching a stuffed horse as she snored lightly. This was his chance. Woody slowly got up, and tiptoed across the room to the door.

"Woody? Where are you going?" Snow White asked. She was standing on the bedsheets, staring at him sadly.

"It... It's a long story, but... I'm just not ready for a new owner yet." Woody replied sadly. "Please understand." She hesitated for a moment, wondering what to say.

"I can see that you don't want to talk about it." She replied sweetly. "But I understand, I guess. It's not easy being alone out there. So promise to take care of yourself, okay? And if you ever need anything, just come back here."

"Thanks, Snow." Woody smiled and tipped his hat, as he ran out the door.

This cycle continued for years. Woody would wander the streets for a couple days, then get picked up by a random kid. But every time he got a new owner, he would leave as soon as he could. Sometimes leaving their house at night, or running away from them at a park. He was afraid to get a new owner. He didn't want to replace another toy, and have history repeat itself. Every time he closed his eyes and went to sleep, he had nightmares about what took place in Chance's room, and the memories haunted him all the time.

Finally, it had been 20 years since he had last seen Chance. It was 1979, and Woody had ended up in California. He had run away from his last owner on the beach, and was running down the sidewalk when he saw a boy walking towards him. He flopped to the ground, just as the boy caught up to him.

"Did you just move...?" The boy asked, picking him up. Woody stayed still, and the boy shrugged it off.

"Harry!" A voice called. Quickly, Harry stuffed Woody into his bag, and zipped it up tight.

"Yes, mom?" Harry asked, quickly turning to his mother innocently.

"What were you looking at?" She asked when she reached him.

"Nothin'." He replied.

"Well alright. We're gonna go meet dad at the pizza shop, you ready to go?" Harry nodded, and went with his mother to the car.

When Harry got home, he rushed to his room, and pulled Woody out of his bag. Woody got a good look at yet another new owner. He was tall, had blue eyes and brown hair. He smiled at the cowboy doll.

"Hi, I'm Harry." He said. "I'm twelve, and my mom thinks I'm too old for toys. So you being here is a secret, okay? What's your name?" He looked at his tag. "Oh it's Woody. You wanna play?" For the rest of the day, Harry played with Woody until it was time for bed. Like so many kids before him, Harry tucked Woody in with him, and fell asleep clutching the doll. As soon as Woody heard Harry snore, he slowly climbed out of his hand. As he did with all the owners, he tiptoed across the sheets, jumped to the floor and headed for the door.

"Woody?" Harry asked. Woody jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, then flopped to the floor. "Woody, I saw you move!" Harry picked up the cowboy doll. "Are you alive?" Woody hesitated a moment, but decided he could trust this boy.

"Yes, I'm alive..." Woody said. Harry smiled.

"I knew it! I've always wondered why toys seem to be in the wrong spots sometimes! This is amazing!"

"I'm glad you're impressed." Woody said indifferently.

"Where are you going Woody?"

"Away."

"Where's away?"

"I don't know."

"Well, can you please stay with me? I want to take care of you!" Harry smiled at the toy again, but Woody just shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want to hurt any other toys."

"I don't have any other toys." Harry said. "My parents made me sell them all. Why would you worry about other toys?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time." Woody sighed, and sat down. He told Harry about everything that happened: becoming Chance's new favorite toy, meeting Marcus, William, Betsy, and all of the other toys in the room, Marcus's jealousy and the murder, how he left, and how he's been on the road ever since.

"So you leave every owner's house because you're afraid that the same thing will happen?" Harry asked. Woody nodded. "Well, you don't have to worry about that here. I don't have any other toys, and I will make sure that nothing bad happens to you."

"But..." Woody muttered.

"I want to be friends with you, Woody. Okay?" Woody hadn't been 'friends' with anyone since Betsy and William. Maybe that was what he was missing in life. A friend. While Woody was lost in his thoughts, Harry scooped him up, and grabbed a bottle of brown paint.

"What are you doing?" Woody asked curiously.

"I want to help you forget about what happened. Would you mind if I painted over Chance's name? I know it's an important memory, but it's only caused you pain for the last twenty years." Woody knew it was true, and reluctantly handed Harry his hat. And it was the best choice in his life. Erasing Chance's name seemed to erase all of Woody's pain.

From that day on, Woody lived in Harry's room in secret. They became best friends, and whenever Woody had nightmares, he was there to cheer him up, just like whenever Harry had a bad day, Woody did the same. Even as Harry grew older, he stayed close to the cowboy doll, and even took him to college. Years passed, and slowly Woody could smile again. Eventually, Harry got a job, got a house, and even got married. Though he didn't talk to Woody as much because he had a wife around, he would still keep Woody with him almost all of the time. One day, Harry grabbed Woody hurriedly, smiling eagerly.

"What's going on, Harry?" Woody asked, as Harry drove the car down the interstate.

"I'm gonna be a father!" Harry exclaimed, smiling happily.

"That's great!" Woody replied. "Is it a boy or girl?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll let you know when I find out!" Harry said. He pulled into the hospital parking lot. Putting Woody into his bag, he rushed into the recovery room, where his wife was waiting for him, holding her baby in her arms, wrapped in a blanket.

"Hey, Harry." She said, smiling at him. Harry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Hey. How is..." Harry began.

"He. It's a he." She replied.

"Oh, it's a boy!" He exclaimed. "Have you thought of any names?"

"Hmm, I always liked Andrew. What do you think?"

"It's perfect!" Harry stroked the newborn's cheek softly. "Little Andy." He noticed some movement in his bag, and looked inside. Woody was staring at Andy with a wide smile on his face.

"He's beautiful." Woody said.

"Did you hear something, Harry?" His wife asked, looking around curiously.

"No, no!" Harry said, putting his hand in his bag. That's when he got and idea. Slowly, he pulled Woody out. "Andy... I've got a gift for you." He moved Woody towards the Andy, tucking him into the baby's blanket. "This is Woody. He's my best friend. And I want you to have him."

"Whadayui?" Andy asked. Harry chuckled.

"Close enough. But you gotta make sure to take care of him, alright?" Andy clutched Woody in his tiny fist, and that was enough of an answer for Harry.

Andy kept Woody with him all the time, even in his crib. But at night, when Andy fell asleep, Harry would come in his room and talk with his best friend. Even though he was a baby, Woody still had fun with Andy. He loved being with a kid again. He was his toy. His favorite toy. And it was the best feeling the world. Andy got older, and when he turned five, he got a little sister. Andy took Woody with him to meet his sister, Molly. As Andy hung out with his mother and Molly in the hospital room, Harry took Woody with him to talk in the hallway.

"So what do you think?" Harry asked.

"She's a beautiful baby." Woody said. "But she's got kind of a drooling problem, don't you think?" They both laughed.

"So are you having fun with Andy?"

"Everyday. He's a great kid, and he's got a great imagination. Just like you."

"Thanks, Woody." Harry looked at his watch. "Oh, no, look at the time. I'm supposed to get some food for Andy."

"You want me to come with you?" Woody asked.

"No, go back to Andy, or else he'll think you lost him."

"Alright." Harry grabbed Woody and gave him to Andy.

"I'm gonna go get you a burger. McDonald's okay?"

"Yeah!" Andy nearly shouted, making Molly cry. "Oh no, I'm sorry, Molly!" Andy said, as he began to pat her head.

"Alright then, I'll see you later." And Harry left.

And that night, he crashed into a truck on the interstate and died.

And that was it for Woody. He couldn't bare the thought that another friend died. He didn't want to be depressed again, suffering every night from unending nightmares. So he forced himself to forget it. To forget everything. And he did. He forgot all about Harry, he forgot about his past, all of the previous owners like Sandy, he forgot about everywhere he had been, and he even forgot about Chance. He forgot about his house, the events that occurred there, and he forgot about William, Betsy and Marcus. In his mind, Andy was his first and only owner. Andy was why he existed. And just like that, he suppressed his past, and never wondered about it again. Until now.

Author's Note: IT'S MAH BIRTHDAY! YAAAY! Anyways, I hoped you guys liked this chapter. I understand that it's a bit confusing, and I apologize for it. But I wanted to update this before my birthday, because I'm gonna be busy partying, so I hope this is good enough for now. And now I have reached a dreadful point like I did in my last story... I don't know what to write next! Hopefully, I'll come up with some ideas soon... heh heh. Also, just wondering, do you thing I should change this story to T? I've been contemplating it for awhile, and I want your opinion. As usual, I want to thank everyone that faved and reviewed this. It is your feedback that truley helps me write more. Now it's 3 a.m. and I'm off to bed because I'm supposed to be at Elitches in 7 hours. Yikes. I'm gonna be PISSED tomorrow. Oh well, It was worth writing! ~Alicethepurplefrog