A/N: So who else is waaaay too excited for TSOT? Sucks that I have to wait until the 27th October to get it in the UK, but muchly excited for it's airing in the US tomorrow!

Anyhoo. I was planning on getting this fiction finished before I actually watch the special, so if anyone out there reading can please take the time to leave a review that would be lovely. :)

Chapter 19 – Revelations, Part III

"How is this possible?" Mrs Newmarket demanded. The heated discussion that had begun in the hallway had now moved into the living room where Mr Newmarket was also part of it. Mrs Newmarket was standing facing her daughter, her arms folded.

"Well Mom, you should know, you gave me the talk." Lizzie couldn't help her sarcasm getting the better of her.

"Not that!" Mrs Newmarket rounded on Lizzie. "How can it be that you had a baby, out of wedlock, and you didn't even think to tell us?"

"Because I knew this would happen." Lizzie protested defensively.

"I'm not allowed to freak out that my daughter got pregnant, concealed it from me, went somewhere to have a baby alone, and then kept it hidden from me for six years?" Mrs Newmarket paused. "Not to mention that you haven't even told us who the father is."

"I know who he is, Mom." Lizzie argued back. "But he doesn't want anything to do with me, and he hasn't ever since Lawrence was in the womb!"

Mrs Newmarket threw up her hands. "Why didn't you use something? Like protection?"

"We just…forgot." Lizzie stammered, unable to come up with anything better than the truth. Her mother shot her a disapproving look. "Mom…..don't you think it's a bit late for this talk?"

"Maybe it is. But I still can't believe you-" Mrs Newmarket went to go on, but instead fell silent as her husband put down his newspaper and stood up from his seat in the armchair, where he had been listening in on the entire exchange.

"Ellen. Let me say something." Mr Newmarket touched his wife's arm and looked at his daughter. "Lizzie. You can understand why your mother is so upset. Now, I don't know your reasons for not telling us what was going on, but you didn't. Now, you say this little boy – Lawrence – is our grandchild, and he's in foster care?"

Lizzie nodded meekly. When it came to her father, she didn't dare argue her position.

"Right. Well then. He's here for the weekend until the foster carers come back into town?" Mr Newmarket asked.

Lizzie nodded again, wondering what was coming next.

"Well then, we have a little over a day to spoil our grandson and get to know him a little bit. How about –" Mr Newmarket stopped as Lawrence ran back into the room, clutching hold of a toy doll.

"Lizzie, I found this upstairs. Can I have it?" Lawrence was unaware he was interrupting anything and turned to Lizzie with big eyes. Lizzie looked down and gasped as she realised he was clutching Woody, and bent down to retrieve the doll from Lawrence's grasp.

"Lawrence! You must never touch things that don't belong to you. Didn't I teach you that?"

"But it was in my room," Lawrence said, his face falling as Lizzie took the toy from him.

"Well, you can't have him, Lawrence. Amanda gave me him for Christmas, remember? Besides, he needs cleaning up, see?" Lizzie brushed the dust from the cowboy as Mr Newmarket looked on before he spoke.

"May I see that?" Lizzie looked over at her father as he held out his hand for her to pass him the cowboy doll. She hesitated and then passed Woody across.

"He's a rare doll, Dad. I looked him up. Him and a horse, and a cowgirl doll that Amanda got me for my birthday…they're part of the same set."

Mr Newmarket nodded silently, turning the cloth doll over. "Well. You're right about one thing. He certainly needs some seeing to." He released the doll back to Lizzie's grasp and then paused. "Like I was saying before – and I know we only just got back home - but we should go out and spoil this little one before he has to go back." He looked at Lawrence, and the little boy looked up at both Mr and Mrs Newmarket as if he was watching a tennis match.

"Where are we going?" Lizzie asked, and her father chuckled.

"I was thinking of the Waffle House, actually."

"The Waffle House? At Christmas?" Lizzie raised a brow at her father's odd choice of eatery.

"It used to be your favourite place when you were a little girl." Mrs Newmarket cut in with a smile, her face softening now at the memory.

Lizzie laughed, remembering one particular visit at Christmas - a dinner of waffles with blueberries on their way home from visiting one relative or another. "Okay, okay, I'm in."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Woody consoled Jessie. Lizzie had come back up to the spare room to collect the other toys left there and return them to her room. However it only took the mention of Buzz's name (on seeing he was missing from sight) on her lips to make Jessie's face crumple.

Ted had helpfully filled in the gaps as placidly as he could, as the only calm one present – what with Buzz's anger, Jessie's sadness, Woody's shock and Lizzie's confusion over the entire thing. But with Lizzie gone out with her parents and Lawrence, Buzz nowhere to be seen, and Ted watching from his perch on the toy chest, it fell to Woody to comfort the cowgirl doll.

"But what if he did? He'd one of my best friends, he's my…other half." Jessie sobbed, wiping at her eyes with her fingers, which did no good - the tears fell faster than she could wipe them away.

"You and Buzz have gotten into fights before and it's never been so bad that you didn't work it out in the end," Woody reminded her. "Why don't you just tell him what's bothering you?"

"Because I've never told anyone. It's my burden to bear, my secret." Jessie whimpered a little.

"It doesn't have to be. A problem shared is a problem halved." Woody patted Jessie's shoulder. "Remember how I told you that when Andy was growing up, he used to whisper to me at night when he was having problems at school? I like to think it helped him get through it. Just like what we're doing now – you're telling me what's wrong so I can try and help you. I'm advising you to tell Buzz so you don't feel so bad about what went on before."

"How can I?" Jessie questioned, "He's mad at me." She gave another sob as the blanket under them lurched under them slightly. Glancing up, she saw Buzz's head appear over the side of the bed. He hopped up before stopping short at the sight in front of him; Jessie curled up in Woody's arms, her eyes red and her pale face drawn in sorrow.

"Oh. I'd just come to see if you were up here, Woody, but I can see you're busy." Buzz said abruptly and started to leave again.

"Buzz, wait." Woody's voice made the space toy turn. "There's something you need to hear." Woody looked down at Jessie curled up besides him.

Buzz frowned. "I'm not sure I want or need to hear anything right now."

Jessie winced at his tone. "Buzz….please," her voice was almost a whisper as his glare directed onto her.

"No! You know what, you don't get the monopoly on the whole pity-me thing you have going on all the time." Buzz snapped.

Jessie reared up at Buzz's harsh words, causing Woody to startle next to her. "You think I'm looking for pity?! You couldn't handle what I went through!" She shouted angrily.

"Jessie. We know about Emily. You told us." Woody tried to smooth things over as things started to get heated, but the flame haired cowgirl wasn't listening. In fact, she rose to her feet, and glared daggers back at Buzz, her hands at her side curling into fists.

"This isn't about Emily! This is about Pamela!" She shouted, her rage getting the better of her as she spat out the name. A palpable silence rested over the little group for the second time in a little over an hour.

Woody dared to break it. "Who's Pamela?"

Jessie's head turned, her eyes darting over to her brother. "Nobody." She said in a small voice. She suddenly looked defensive, scared, frightened.

"Which explains why you're becoming erratic," Woody uttered, making Jessie's mouth twist into an ugly shape.

"Fine. If you must know, Pamela was my old owner." She turned back to face front, but her eyes dropped towards the floor as she spoke.

"I thought Emily was your old owner." Buzz now found the courage to speak since Jessie's temper had revealed itself. He was still standing by the edge of the bed where he'd appeared from, but was making no further moves to turn tail anymore.

"She is….was." Jessie sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Emily wasn't my first owner. Pamela was."

She looked so forlorn Buzz's heart ached for her. He couldn't bear to be so angry at her when she looked like that. "So how did you come to be with Emily?" He coaxed, stepping closer to Jessie now and taking her hand in his. Gently, the space toy helped Jessie sit down, rubbing her back, trying to calm her.

Jessie sniffed back her emotions. "It's a long story." The cowgirl sat and recalled the summer over 25 years ago to the other two listening toys, with Ted also looking on in the background.

"I was a valuable, rare, expensive doll, way back when my type were the first ones off the production line. I wasn't one of those dime store toys you get everywhere. I was delivered to a posh, exclusive store somewhere in Ottawa and put into a glass case, much like the ones in Al's apartment."

"There were many other dolls in that store. There were porcelain dolls, teddies, and even some stuffed toys that were rare. There was only one of me, though. I was left sitting in the glass case for months, locked up. It was very lonely. The other dolls and toys were in larger boxes in twos or threes, padlocked and secure, so at least they didn't have the problem of being lonely like me."

"Then one day this rather classy, elegant looking woman walked in. She wanted a toy for her daughter. She didn't want a stuffed toy, and she didn't want anything breakable. She spotted me on her walk around the shop, and deemed me perfect. I was finally taken out of the case, put into a box and carried away."

"When the lady got me back to her house, she unpacked me and put me into a cupboard. I was so scared – I was trapped in the box, I couldn't move, and the dark was all consuming. She finally took me out a few weeks later, and wrapped me up in some gift paper, which made my living conditions even more unbearable, I couldn't escape the dark."

"A few days later, the cupboard was opened again and I was taken out. I could feel myself being placed down, and then before I knew it the wrapping paper surrounding me was ripped off and I found myself staring into the eyes of a child. This was Pamela. She squealed when she saw me, tearing open the box, even though her mother told her to be careful. She pulled me out from the box and hugged me to her." Jessie gave a little sigh and a wan smile. "The connection was instant. Pamela took me everywhere with her."

"So why did you leave Pamela's?" Woody asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

Jessie sighed. "I didn't leave of my own accord. Events have to happen before a toy leaves the home they're originally placed in. As it turns out, I spent a few happy years with Pamela. She wasn't a bright child but over the years I realised she was marvellous at English. She'd bring home short stories her mother pinned on the fridge. She wanted to be a writer. She had her future all planned out, including the courses she wanted to take at college when she grew up."

Jessie paused, covering her mouth with a hand, gasping in a shallow way at the feelings welling up in her again. Buzz squeezed her hand. "It's okay Jessie. Go on."

Jessie sniffed, pulling her hand from Buzz's briefly to wipe her eye as a fat tear rolled down her cheek. "It was two years I spent with Pamela. When she was six, she was diagnosed with a rare strain of leukaemia. She had to undergo treatment and it was me who accompanied her to the hospital. I watched her change from a healthy normal girl into a shadow of herself. She could barely write her own name, let alone any stories."

Woody and Buzz looked at each other, then back at Jessie. The cowgirl doll had by now curled her legs up to her chest and was looking down at her knees sorrowfully.

"Pamela died of leukaemia some months later, just like the doctors said she would. There was nothing they could do for her." She sniffled again, louder this time. "I was there with her at the very end. I had to watch my beloved Pamela die. I don't think anything is worse than that. Not even being abandoned by Emily all those years later."

There was a melancholy silence now. Woody and Buzz digested this information, and then without warning, Buzz suddenly pulled Jessie into his arms, cuddling her close. Her small arms wrapped around his torso as she sobbed into his plastic chest. Her body racked and heaved for a good five minutes as her emotions got the better of her completely, and Buzz could guess that her tears didn't completely stem from her grief about her old owners; some of them were his fault. He suddenly felt stupid and pathetic for having walked away from her earlier when she'd obviously needed him to be understanding.

But before he could thoroughly process these thoughts, another question sprang to mind which he voiced aloud. "Jess? How did you get to be with Emily?"

Jessie pulled back, her hair mussed from where she'd been buried against Buzz's chest, and her eyes and face flushed and red from her tears. "When Pamela died, she had been placed in a ward opposite another little girl who had suffered a broken leg as the result of horse riding. The hospital was a small country hospice, which didn't have the facilities to hold a lot of patients. When they came to clear her things away, her mother left me with that little girl with the broken leg, who hugged me close and cherished me for the next ten years or so. That was Emily."

"I stayed with Emily in the hospice while her leg healed, and then she took me home with her. Being from a poor family, she didn't have money to spend on toys, but she loved her horses. She had all sorts of cowboy stuff, even a rocking horse and a horse head on a stick she used to pretend to ride around the house. It used to make me laugh to watch her," Jessie added softly, another tear rolling down her cheek. She turned her face to bury it back into Buzz's chest plate, her body shuddering at all the violent memories resurfacing in her head.

"Jessie." Buzz breathed, stroking her hair as Woody shifted in place nearby. "I'm sorry."

"She was my only connection to Pamela - and Emily just abandoned me." Jessie wept, her grief overwhelming her. "I never got to say goodbye to either of them."