Road Trip

(A/N: A little bit of their childhood in this chapter. I may put up 2 or 3 chapters today as well. Depends.)

Childhood

Little Andy was playing alone in the yard with his toys. Molly was napping, and she was too young to have fun with anyway. She was only a few months old. Mommy was too busy. Andy was lonely… He sighed, sitting on the grass. He held Woody up, playing with his limbs because he was bored and felt sad and alone. He wished he had his father. Daddy use to play… Tears burned his eyes and he held Woody close. Daddy had gone away only a few months ago. He'd never come back. Mommy had gotten rid of all the pictures of him and everything. "I wish you could tell me where daddy is, Woody," he murmured to his toy. He was so lonely… He had no friends. Other kids thought he was weird because he was really shy and didn't talk to them very well without stammering, plus he had no papa, so they teased him for that.

"I hate you!" a voice screamed from next door. Andy started and sat up curiously.

"Sid! Sid you get back here you little f***er!" a man's voice bellowed furiously.

He heard a woman scream, "Please, please, he's just a child, don't do this! Honey, please!" He heard the woman scream in pain as something hit her.

"Mommy!" a girl's voice cried out.

He heard the backdoor next door slam open. He curiously rose and went to the fence, eyes worried. He leapt up, climbing, and peered over. A young boy maybe one or two, maybe three, years older than him raced out. He looked around, eyes blazing and desperate and scared. Maybe he was trying to hide from the man who had said the name? He heard something coming. The little boy gasped and turned around, eyes wide.

"Over here!" Andy called quickly. The other boy looked over. Andy beckoned him. The other boy didn't hesitated. He raced over and leapt up onto the fence, quickly scrambling over it and into Andy's yard. He dragged Andy down onto the ground.

"Shh," he hissed. "Don't-even-breathe. Just lay still." Andy's eyes became fearful, but he nodded and laid down too, burying his face in the grass like the other boy was doing. After all, if they couldn't see the man, the man couldn't see them. The door of the other kid's house was slammed open.

"Sid!" the man's voice bellowed. "Sid, get your little ass out here!" The man began searching. He was looking everywhere. Then he was right by the fence. The other boy tensed up, sensing his presence. The man was looking towards Andy's house now. If he looked down… Just then a bell rang as a newspaper boy was passing. The man looked over and left the fence, staggering to get the paper. Soon the door to the house shut and the other boy let out a shaky breath, finally daring to look up.

He peered through the fence. Andy stayed laying down. "He's gone, stupid, get up," the other boy said, kicking him lightly. Andy peeked up.

"Who was he?" Andy asked.

"My father," the other answered bitterly.

"Why was he so loud?" Andy asked.

"Forget it," the other replied. "Go back to your toys." The boy climbed back over the fence into his backyard. Andy blinked blankly after him.

Toy Story

Andy was playing with Rex and Mr. Sketch in the backyard. Suddenly a ball landed beside him. He started and blinked at it. He laid Rex down and picked up the ball. "Hey! Hey kid!" a voice called.

Andy looked over at the fence. His neighbor was there! The black haired little boy next door from yesterday. He had bad teeth, Andy noted with a frown. He blinked at the other and felt his shyness coming. "Uh-uh-umm…" he stammered.

"Can't you talk?" the other asked in annoyance.

"Um…" Andy said.

"Whatever, just throw the ball back," the other boy said with a sigh, rolling his eyes. Andy stood up uncertainly, looked at the ball, then focused on where he wanted it to go. He threw it as best he could. The neighbor boy leapt off the fence and hurried to catch it. He was successful. "Yes! Batter out! Nice throw, pitcher!" he cheered. Andy blinked. Wait, did the other mean him when he said 'pitcher'?

"Um, do-do you mean me?" Andy timidly stammered, curiously going to the fence, climbing up, and peering over it.

The boy looked curiously back and blinked. "Uh, yeah," he replied like it was obvious. "Here. Catch!"

"But I can't…" Andy began. The other threw and Andy gasped, hurrying to try and get it. He reached for the ball, but he was too small and missed. He bit his lip in frustration.

Toy Story

"Did you get it?" the boy next door asked.

"I missed," Andy, disheartened, said.

"Loser. Boy you suck at catch. You'd better get it one of these times soon, or else. Quick, throw it back before the batter makes home!" Andy started, snapped out of his melancholy, and grinned determinedly, throwing the ball back. "Nice throw! You have a good arm," the other called, pleasantly surprised. He returned to the fence and leaned on it. "I'm good at catching, but not throwing. Who taught you?" he asked

"My daddy did," Andy replied.

"Didn't your daddy leave?" the other incredulously asked.

Pain filled Andy's eyes, then anger. "No! He didn't leave, he didn't! He's going to come back, just wait and see! Daddy promised he would come back. He said I love you to me. If he loves me it means he'll be home soon," Andy said.

"He could have been lying," the other deadpanned.

"Take that back!" Andy insisted.

The other looked dubious but then sighed. "You're such a baby. Fine, I take it back," he replied. But he wouldn't say he was sorry and he wouldn't say he thought the neighbor kid's papa would come home again. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Um, A-Andrew. But-but it's Andy for short," Andy replied.

"Andy…" the other said aloud, committing the name to memory. He looked back at Andy. "Hey, come over here and we can play catch."

"I can't go over to strangers' houses," Andy replied.

"If you know my name would I be a stranger?" the other questioned.

"Well, I don't know. No?" Andy more questioned than stated.

"I'm Sid. Now come on already. You're so slow!" Sid said.

"Don't you play catch with your daddy?" Andy asked.

Sid stiffened and blinked. Sadness and hurt came to his eyes, then anger and fury. He bowed his head. "Sometimes…" he grumbled. "When he's happy."

"Why aren't you now?" Andy asked.

Sid's eyes blazed with another flash of anger before giving way to a look of loneliness. He looked back up at Andy and replied, "Papa is passed out on the couch. He isn't going to be happy if I wake him up."

"Passed out?" Andy asked, confused. "He fainted?"

"Yeah… yeah, let's go with that," Sid grumbled.

Andy thought a moment. "I have to ask my mommy first," he said.

"Forget it. I can come over there," Sid replied.

"You would have to ask your mommy then," Andy said.

"Nah. Mama doesn't care if I go to other kids' houses," Sid answered. Even if she did, he didn't want to go back inside and have to sneak passed dad to ask mom if he could go to someone's house. "Stay there."

"Kay," Andy replied, nodding.

Toy Story

The two boys were soon laughing and playing catch in Andy's yard. When they tired of that, they turned to games of pretend with toys. Andy believed he preferred it when they were playing catch. He didn't like how rough Sid was with his things.

"Die!" Sid said, throwing Rex and making the sound of an explosion.

"Stop that, you'll break him!" Andy protested, blinking in surprise, taken aback at the violence in the game.

"Nuh uh!" Sid argued.

"Yuh huh!" Andy shot, eyes narrowed.

"You're so lame, Andy! The toy will be just fine!" Sid protested.

"His name is Rex!" Andy protested.

"Really? You gave it a name?" Sid demanded.

"Yeah, he's one of my favorites!" Andy said. "Stop trying to wreck my things! They aren't yours. You have to play gentle with them."

"Gentle is no fun!" Sid protested.

"Well I don't care! I love my toys," Andy said.

"They're just toys! If you break them just get new ones," Sid said.

"We don't have enough money to just buy toys all the time," Andy quietly said.

Sid blinked, falling silent, then glanced to the side. "Neither do we," he muttered. "We have even less."

Andy's gaze softened a bit, and together the two boys fell back on the grass with sighs, pooped out. Andy was about to ask another question, but just then Mrs. Davis poked her head out of the door. "Andy, would you and your new friend like some lemonade?" she called to her son.

"Do you want lemonade, Sid?" Andy asked, sitting up.

"Yes," Sid replied, continuing to lay still.

"Yes please, mommy!" Andy called back. He then laid back on the grass again.

Toy Story

Mrs. Davis nodded and frowned concernedly at the boy she had noticed her son playing with. She went inside to make the lemonade. The boy's name was Sid Phillips, she believed. He lived next door. She was… apprehensive about him. Very much so. Sid was a very—oh what was the word?—behavioral sort of child. There were many things about him that were… concerning. Not necessarily concerning in a completely negative way, but concerning as in warning signs that needed to be monitored. He seemed to be particularly destructive, for instance, and violent. The language he knew he shouldn't have known at his age, and she had seen him being quite mean to other children, especially his sister. She knew his parents. Let's just say she wasn't surprised Sid acted the way he did. Still, she would have to talk to Andy about this new 'pal' of his.

She didn't approve of his newfound friend. However, she didn't necessarily wish for her son to stop visiting or playing with Sid either. At least not yet. Not if they had connected—Andy had such trouble making friends, you see—but she just… wanted her boy to exercise caution. If something started to go wrong or she sensed danger to her child, though, she would put a stop to their little playmate understanding. She heard a loud banging outside, which meant they had gotten into something they probably weren't supposed to. She grimaced. Andy knew what he was not supposed to touch, but if he were following the older boy… Yes, she would have to be sure to warn Andy to exercise a lot of caution around Sid. Her son was so vulnerable to peer pressure at this stage and with these circumstances, what with his father being… Never mind. She took the two glasses of lemonade and went back outside. "Here you are, boys!" she called out.

Andy and Sid came running from around the side of the house. Sid snatched a glass immediately. "Thank you, Mrs. Davis," he quickly said, flushed with excitement. They had most definitely gotten into something they weren't supposed to.

"Thank you mommy, I love you," Andy said, taking his own and drinking from it. "Can I go to Sid's yard? He wants to show me something."

Mrs. Davis frowned. In all honesty, she would very much like to say no. However, her son looked so hopeful, and this was the only other child in a very, very long time that she had ever seen him willingly play with and at the same time even remotely get along with… "Alright, but be back in fifteen minutes," Andy's mother relented.

"Kay!" Andy called, grinning up at her gratefully. He and Sid finished their lemonade, handed the glasses back, then bolted for Sid's yard. Mrs. Davis frowned, crossing her arms. This would bear watching. Sid's father, you see, was a drunk. And when he became drunk, he became very, very abusive. Sid's mother had a good heart, but she wasn't what you would call all there… Or very responsible… She didn't doubt the woman loved her children—Mrs. Phillips was an acquaintance of hers, so she knew the woman cared—Mrs. Davis just doubted the other's ability to properly take care of them. Mrs. Phillips was… below average intelligence. She could function pretty well, but at the same time… Enough said. As such, she was neglectful, focused mainly on herself and her own comforts. She was what the government would call 'mentally underdeveloped' or 'mentally challenged' or some other such term. That boy was allowed to run wild without any restraint unless his father happened to be sober.

When sober, Mr. Phillips was a good man and a protective father… Thing was he was rarely, rarely sober, and so the man he was when he wasn't drinking could never hope to justify the man he was when he did. The monster Mr. Phillips became when drunk—and he was drunk more often than not—could not be redeemed, it was simple as that. No matter the excuses you tried to make for him. Should Mr. Phillips be woken up from a drunken sleep or hangover, she feared terribly what would happen to Andy. She doubted Mrs. Phillips would dare to step in or even be able to do anything for Andy if she did try. Her husband was a big and powerful man. Uncertainty came to Mrs. Davis's eyes. Perhaps she would go over in five minutes just to check on things.

Toy Story

They went into Sid's backyard. Andy blinked in horror. It looked like a mine field. Toy parts were scattered everywhere and there were the weirdest combinations of toys he'd ever seen! "Wow," he said. "You're really mean to your toys…" It was obvious he was less than impressed. "You said you didn't have money to get new ones, so why do you always wreck them?"

"They aren't wrecked. I just like taking stuff apart and putting it back together… And sometimes blowing it up," Sid said.

"But you're hurting them!" Andy protested.

"How can toys be hurt, doofus?" he bit at Andy. "They're not alive."

"You're bad," Andy said, frowning.

"Nuh uh!" Sid protested. "I have imagination."

"So do I, but I don't break my toys to imagine things!" Andy argued.

"Whatever. Look at this," Sid said, bringing Andy to a rocket to which a toy was bound.

Andy blinked at it. "What are you doing to the toy?!" he asked, eyes filling with dismay.

"I'm sending him to the moon," Sid replied proudly.

"But those blow up! They don't reach the moon," Andy said.

"They can try!" Sid argued. "Maybe the toy would like to see the moon."

"Yeah, but not if he's gonna get blowed up if it doesn't work," Andy replied.

"Big deal. You should see what I do to my sister's dollies," Sid said.

"You have a sister?" Andy asked.

"Yeah. A little one. She's as little as you are," Sid replied. "Her name's Hannah. She's a tattle tale."

"I'd tattle too if you broke my toys," Andy defended, frowning.

"You're so lame, Andy," Sid said. "Loosen up."

"You're supposed to treat your toys nicely so you have them after a long time still and won't have to buy other ones," Andy protested.

"They last long even if I take them apart and put them together some other way," Sid replied. "It's not like I couldn't fix them again if I wanted to. Come on, I'll show you my room!"

"Kay," Andy reluctantly agreed, frowning but following. Why was he even here, he wondered? He didn't think he liked Sid very much, and Sid probably thought he was pathetic anyway so really he should just go home.

Toy Story

Andy and Sid went into Sid's house. "Mom, I have a friend here! I'm going to show him my room!" Sid called.

"You have a friend over?" his mother asked in surprise, poking her head out of the kitchen curiously. Her son never brought friends over. Sid wasn't good at making and keeping them. Those he made—if you could call it making friends—he usually lost. Very few could… deal with her son's personality. She started. "Oh! The little neighbor boy. Andy, isn't it?"

"Yes," Andy replied.

"Well hello, Andy. Be very quiet. Sid's daddy is sleeping on the easy chair in front of the TV. We don't want to wake him," Sid's mother warned, sadness coming to her eyes a moment. And slight fear and vulnerability.

"Kay," Andy replied. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Phillips."

"Why it's very nice to meet you too, Andy," Mrs. Phillips said, smirking at the little boy. He was sweet, she decided. She hoped this was a friend Sid would keep—it would be good for him to have a friend who lived so close—but she honesty couldn't see their friendship sticking. They were much too different and Andy seemed too sweet to handle Sid's… energy and wild imagination. Andy followed Sid upstairs.

Toy Story

Sid opened the door to his room. "Why you got so many locks?" Andy wondered.

Sid paused. He looked for a moment angry and afraid. Andy was curious about why, but he didn't think he should ask. Sid looked… touchy about it. "Because," he simply replied. Andy let it go at that. Sid jumped on his bed and kicked off his shoes.

"Your room is messy," Andy remarked.

"So?" Sid asked.

"I was just saying," Andy replied, shrugging. "My mommy would ground me if I didn't clean my room, but when I did I could play again."

"Sid…" a girl's voice began. Andy turned curiously and gasped. There was a little girl there! This might be Sid's sister.

"Go away, Hannah, I have a friend over," Sid sneered.

Hannah blinked at the newcomer. Andy blinked back, blushing shyly. "Hi, I'm Hannah. Who are you?" she asked.

"I-I-I'm A-Andrew, but people call me Andy usually. I live next door," Andy replied, pointing out of Sid's window. "That's my room over there. You can see it from here."

"You're Sid's friend?" Hannah asked, looking dubious.

"We just met today," Andy replied, nodding. "Mommy said people you meet in one day aren't your friends and that friendships take a long time to build and that you always need to play together to make a friendship, and see each other out of school and other casual settings or something like that. Whatever casual settings are."

"Oh," Hannah said, looking at him funny. He cringed. She probably thought he was weird too. "I see you at school. You're cute," she remarked. Andy started and blushed. Hannah giggled.

"Go away, Hannah! We're busy," Sid ordered.

"You're a meanie, Sid!" Hannah angrily replied, sticking her tongue out at him. Bitterly she turned and walked away.

"Why were you so mean to her?" Andy asked.

"Because siblings are mean to each other," Sid replied.

"I'm not mean to my baby sister," Andy said.

"How old is she?" Sid asked.

"A few months," Andy replied.

"You'll be mean to her when she's older," Sid assured. "Just wait. Or she'll be mean to you. You have to beat them at being mean, or they'll walk all over you."

"No. Molly's just a baby," Andy said.

"Babies grow up!" Sid protested.

"Not Molly!" Andy shot.

"Even Molly," Sid replied. Andy stuck out his tongue at Sid. Sid stuck his out right back. Andy started and frowned, eyes flashing, but he didn't stick his tongue out again. Maybe he should leave. Sid was a big jerk. It wasn't like he had any reason for staying. "I have a toy you can have," Sid suddenly said.

Andy started and blinked. What? "You do?" he eagerly asked. "What is it?"

"This one," Sid said, rummaging around down beside his bed. He soon came back up with a little penguin. "His name's Wheezy. I took out his squeaker and put it in something else, so he doesn't squeak anymore. I was just going to give him to Scud, my dog, but whatever." He threw the penguin over at Andy. "You can have him."

"Really? Thank you Sid!" Andy cheered, grinning widely at the other boy. Maybe he would stay a bit longer after all. Sid shrugged. "Can you fix him for me?"

"Why?" Sid asked.

"Because it's not the same if he can't squeak," Andy replied. Sid sighed in annoyance but took the penguin back. He searched around and found an extra squeaker. In a few minutes he fixed it and handed it to Andy.

"There. Baby," Sid bit. Andy frowned then smiled at Wheezy. Sid may have been mean about it, but at least he'd fixed the little penguin.

"This is a present?" Andy asked.

"Call it whatever," Sid replied, shrugging.

"Why are you giving it to me?" Andy asked.

"'Cause I don't need it," Sid replied.

Toy Story

Andy and Sid stayed at Sid's place for a few hours. Sid had a video game so they played a little bit of that. Sid's daddy had gone to bed after grunting a hello to him. The man hadn't wanted to look at Andy very long for some reason, but Andy didn't let that bother him. They also went outside and played tag with Hannah, and Hide and Seek. Scud would sometimes join them and play. He was good at Hide and Seek. Scud was a mean dog, but sometimes he got playful and that was cute. Andy decided he wanted a dog someday. He and Sid had played some board games as well. Sid didn't have many toys, but it was fun anyway. Him and Sid played make believe games also, without toys. He pretended to be a cowboy and Sid pretended to be the bad guy. Sid called the bad guy a bandito or robber and sometimes Indian, but Andy didn't like Sid using that term unless the Indian was the good guy. Mommy said the term 'Indian' wasn't right anyway. They were called Native Americans or First Nations and they weren't bad, so when Sid pretended to be the Native, he was the good guy. Andy was a good shot with Sid's cork gun, but Sid was a good shot with it too. Andy shot at Sid's feet, but Sid laughed, dodging around the cork, and fired back. Andy squealed and ducked just in time, grinning widely. Right now the score was a tie.

"Andy!" Mrs. Davis's voice called out. Andy looked over curiously.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Time for dinner!" Mrs. Davis called. She also didn't want her son to stay over there any longer. The whole Mr. Phillips thing and Sid… She didn't like it or trust it. Sid was a bad influence, she believed, but then she could just be being judgemental. She shouldn't just leap to that conclusion… But for the time she'd try and limit the time Andy spent with Sid if this little playdate would actually become a regular thing.

"Awww… Okay!" Andy called, upset at having to go. "I have to go, Sid."

"You want to come over tomorrow so we can play our games some more?" Sid asked.

"Yeah! Or you can come to my house and I can show you my room and toys," Andy replied.

"Okay. Bye," Sid said.

"Bye!" Andy replied, giving Sid his cork gun back.

"Um, thanks for helping me hide the other day," Sid grumbled as an afterthought, almost looking reluctant to say thanks.

"You're welcome," Andy said, running to his home with a wave. Sid waved too.

1 Week Later

"Your room is nice," Sid remarked to Andy as they went to Andy's home from school together. They'd been hanging out a lot this week and were getting to know each other a bit better. Mrs. Davis had greeted him with a smile today, but he got the feeling Mrs. Davis didn't really approve of him very much. He didn't think she didn't like him, just didn't approve of him. They dropped their packs on the floor.

"We should study first or mommy will get mad," Andy said.

"I hate studying," Sid whined.

"Have you ever tried studying with a friend?" Andy asked.

Sid glanced up at him curiously. "I thought your mommy told you not to call people friends until you'd hung out with them lots and could actually mean it," he remarked.

"I can mean it," Andy replied, smiling.

"I've heard that before," Sid mumbled, getting out his books like Andy was doing.

"What do you mean?" Andy asked.

"I don't make friends, Andy. I'm not nice, remember? I'm a bully," Sid replied.

"You are a bully, especially to me, but I like you anyways… But I don't like that you treat me different at school than at home," Andy said, frowning. "You don't even say hi or look at me or anything, or even play with me."

"Because you're lame," Sid replied.

"I am not!" Andy protested.

"Yes you are. You're a loser, Andy," Sid said.

"Well you're obnoxious and hyper and destructive and a creep!" Andy shot.

"Deal with it!" Sid sneered.

"I am, or you wouldn't be here, dummy," Andy said.

"Andy, did I hear a mean word?!" his mother called from downstairs.

Andy blinked and cringed. "Sorry mama!" he called back. Sid was snickering, glad Andy had gotten in trouble and not him. Andy frowned at him then sighed. He looked at some of Sid's art homework. "You have really good imaginations, and you're really creative. Your art pictures are always so cool!" Andy said.

"I know. They're designs," Sid replied, smiling. Andy blinked blankly at a picture of a crane hook on Barbie Doll legs.

"What's this one?" Andy asked.

"A hooker," Sid replied casually as anything.

"What's a hooker?" Andy asked.

Sid paused, frowning curiously. "I don't know. I just know daddy calls mommy that when he's really angry… Mommy always cries when he does, and I think it has to do with girls, mainly, who guys always want to bang," Sid said.

"What's 'bang'?" Andy asked.

"Have sex with," Sid replied.

"What's sex?" Andy asked.

Sid looked at him doubtfully. "Really?" he asked. Andy blinked innocently. "Forget it," Sid replied, rolling his eyes. "I'll give you the talk when you're bigger."

"What's the talk?" Andy asked.

"The birds and the bees," Sid said. "Mommy said I was too young to learn about it, seven year olds shouldn't know about sex, but daddy told me anyway."

"What do birds and bees have to do with whatever sex is?" Andy asked.

"Let's listen to music," Sid said, changing the subject. He didn't know why, but something was telling him he shouldn't tell Andy right now until he was bigger.

Andy frowned. "But I don't like your music," he said.

"Well I don't like yours either," Sid replied, turning some on then opening a study book.

Toy Story

They were quiet for a bit as they studied. "This is weird," Sid said.

"What is?" Andy asked.

"Studying with a friend. I haven't done that before," Sid replied.

"Why?" Andy asked.

"'Cause I don't have real friends, only kids I play with at school sometimes, but they get angry and leave lots because I play too rough," Sid answered.

"Oh… I don't like to leave my friends," Andy replied.

"We'll see," Sid replied, shrugging.

"I think it's funner studying with someone. I never have before, but I like it better so far," Andy said.

Sid looked back at him curiously, tilting his head. "Yeah," he finally relented. "Not as boring. But I'm one or maybe two grades bigger than you." Andy shrugged. He lay on his stomach on his bed, opening a book. Sid leaned against Andy's bed, reading his more, and the two sat in comfortable silence, every so often helping each other or offering suggestions.