Work Text:
Woody had never expected to run into Andy again.
Mind you, there were a lot of things he had never expected to happen.
Every toy must come to accept that children will inevitebly grow up. From then on it's an ongoing cycle of new kids and yard sales until they eventually wind up discarded in a dumpster somewhere.
So, it wasn't really a surprise when Woody and his friends woke up one morning in a cardboard box, amidst the family’s annual yard sale.
They had seen it coming for years; Bonnie was almost done with college and the only reason she held onto them for so long was out of sentimentality.
But they had never anticipated the possibility that they would be separated. The toys had always been together; even though some had been lost along the way, those who remained were still always together.
Slinky and Rex were bought by a little boy who, despite his boisterous enthusiasm while playing, seemed nice in his own rambunctious way. Mr and Mrs Potato Head were taken by a man looking to complete his collection of retro toys. Hamm found a home with an old lady in need of a piggy bank. And Jessie was adopted by a sweet little girl who Woody was certain would love her as much as Andy once had.
Buzz was the hardest to say goodbye to. Because then Woody knew he really was alone.
All he could hope for then, as he sat in the empty box, was that his old companions would be taken care of properly, with the care and respect they deserved.
The yard sale seemed to drag on forever and the longer it went on, the more depressed Woody became. Perhaps he was the lucky one and he would survive on Bonnie's shelf for another few months until the next sale.
That or he would find himself at the bottom of a garbage bag. That seemed far more appropriate; better than gathering dust without your friends beside you.
He didn't expect anyone to reach into his box and begin rummaging around until he felt fingertips brushing against the material of his suit and slowly lifting him out.
It was strange, because, he could have sworn he recognised the brown eyes that studied him with slight trepidation. He felt as though he had met this man who held him before. Almost in another life.
The stranger appeared to know Bonnie, though Woody had never seen them together before. Perhaps he was a boyfriend or a distant cousin he had never noticed. Either way, they knew each other, and from the way he referred to her as "Bon-Bon", they were on good terms.
All kinds of thoughts ran through Woody's mind as he was placed into another box, this one smaller and darker and far more cramped than before. He wouldn't have minded as much if the others had been there. But they weren't. They were gone and he would probably never see them again.
He remembered the last thing Buzz had said before he had been taken - 'keep your head up, cowboy. You'll make it.'
He hoped for his own sake that Buzz was right.
'Honey, I'm home!' Sid called down the hall as he nudged the front door open with his hip, stepping into the living room where he found his partner snoozing on the couch nearby and their infant daughter in her playpen with her building blocks.
He smirked, kicking off his shoes and toeing off his socks before setting the wrapped package down a moment to carry the box full of toys over to the little girl, who squealed at the sight of her second daddy and reached out her hands to be lifted.
‘Look, Boo.’ Sid set the box in front of the pen, taking out a few of the dollies inside and lifting the infant with his spare arm. 'Papa got you some new toys. All for a bargain.'
The baby gurgled, taking one of the dolls in her chubby hand, beginning to chew on it.
'Time to wake Daddy.' Sid took the toddler over to the man sleeping on the couch and gently placed her on Andy's back. 'Wake up, Cowboy. Your deputy’s home.'
Andy stirred, opening one eye and allowing his mouth to break out into a smile as his daughter crawled over to pat his hair.
'Hey there, beautiful - oh, and you're here too, Sid.’ He chuckled as his partner playfully slapped his backside. ‘Get anything good at the yard sale?'
'Not much,' Sid wandered over to the box that he had wrapped in gift paper before he entered the house and brought it to the man on the couch, 'just found this little morsel and thought you might like it.'
Andy cocked an eyebrow, shifting their daughter onto his lap so she could help him tear the paper off, 'oh Sid, you didn't need to actually buy me anything.'
Sid, was all Woody could process as he listened to the voices muffled outside the box. Why did that name seem familiar?
'You know I love spoiling you.' Sid replied but his lips twitched anxiously in case Andy didn't like it, in case Andy decided he really didn't need that battered old cowboy doll anymore.
He was unsure of what had drawn him to the toy but he recalled Andy mentioning several times that he used to own a Woody Pride, always spoke very fondly of it. So he had wondered...
'Bonnie okay?' Andy asked as he struggled slightly with the lid.
'Yeah, seems so. She's graduating soon.'
'That's great. She's a smart kid. Bound to go-'
Andy cut off as he pulled the lid off the box and spent the next few seconds just staring into it, his playful expression slowly morphing into something...well...quite different.
'Sid...' he said quietly, '...where...where did you even...?'
Sid shifted from one foot to another and from where he was, Woody could see something scrawled on his left ankle in permanent ink.
A word. A name in fact.
Oh.
Oh.
'Jesus, Sid.’ Andy felt like he hadn't held Woody in a thousand years and when he brought him close to his face, the musky scent of his childhood came flooding back to his senses and water spiralled into his eyes.
'Andy?' Sid edged himself onto the couch and Woody detected concern in his tone; he sidled up close to the younger man, who had the doll pressed up close to his face with his eyes squeezed shut, and added in a softer voice, 'Baby? Are you okay?'
He only ever used that term of endearment when he was really worried. Or horny. Either way, it let Andy know that he was anxious and he opened his eyes again, allowing two fat drops of water to spill down both cheeks.
'It can't be...it must...but it looks just like...' Andy burbled but there was no way it could be anyone else. He lifted the doll's leg with one trembling hand and saw, clear as day, those large block letters he used to label his toys with as a child imprinted on the cowboy boot.
ANDY
There was only one Woody Pride he knew and this was definitely him.
Andy had talked about Woody on several occasions; sometimes unintentionally, other times when he was getting the baby over to sleep and he had run out of fairytales to spew.
To this day, Sid still felt his stomach turn at the mention of that forsaken cowboy doll but he tried to keep in mind what all those years of therapy were for; he had grown up in a broken home with an alcoholic father and this whole incident with the talking dolls had been a traumatic, psychological result of this, something he just made up as a coping mechanism.
But he was over that now. It was just a cowboy doll. And it was obvious that Andy was attached to it.
'So, uh, I guess you like it then.' He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly before he was pulled forwards and his lips met that of the man below him, scattering kisses on every inch of his mouth until they were both panting and red in the face.
Everything was happening too quickly for Woody to comprehend. Andy was so different to how he used to be. He looked the same, more or less, but there was this air about him that brought about a signal of great change. He looked stronger, more independent, more like a man.
And that was difficult to swallow, that Andy was now a man. And despite the fact Woody had found him again, after all these years, there was still that danger of him becoming another discarded toy thrown into the bottom of a trash can again.
He found himself being moved to the coffee table while Andy continued covering his boyfriend’s face with kisses, bringing their daughter up to kiss her also and it was all so strange watching it happen; this family that Andy had created and evidently dedicated his life to. The life that once revolved around careless summer days spent running around in the yard with his favourite toys.
It wasn't about him anymore.
'I keep telling you, Andy,' Sid scoffed after they had finally got their daughter down to sleep, 'I knew because I'm psychic and have telepathic abilities.'
It felt bittersweet being placed on a shelf again. But it was different this time. Woody hadn't just been thrown into an extra space; he had been placed carefully in between a photoframe and an old rusting trophy Andy had got in college when he won the annual science fair. So he wasn't completely forgotten.
'Come on,' Andy poked him, 'tell me the truth. Did my Mom drop a hint or something?'
'A psychic never reveals his secret.'
Woody watched the pair from the shelf and realised he had never seen Andy so happy. Through all those birthdays, those new toys, he had never seen the boy smile as wide as he did than when he was in the arms of the man he called Sid (who couldn't possibly be the same Sid from all those years ago, Woody tried to convince himself.)
They had their daughter. Mary her name was, though Sid stubbornly called her “Boo”, given that was her first word, and she made a point of repeating it over and over again.
Andy had a stable job, his bills were paid on time, and he and Sid were planning to get married next summer.
He didn't need Woody anymore.
Yet Woody was there, watching him with the new love of his life, listening to their whispers and giggles and reflecting on all those times when he was Andy's only care, his idol and plaything, his confidant for all his hopes and fears.
Now, he was merely a doll on a shelf gathering dust.
His only solace was that Andy had found happiness. All those times as a child when he fretted that he was unlovable, that no one would ever want him, that he was worthless, had proven to be invalid.
He had Sid - and Sid intended to keep him; if that name 'ANDY' tatooed on his ankle was anything to go by.
It was worth sitting there and gathering dust if he knew that Andy still had someone to look after him. Someone to love him, to kiss away his tears, to tell his deepest secrets and put a smile on his face.
Now that Woody thought about it, it wasn't such a bad thing at all.