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In the last year, Woody was shoved into the experience of being not just Andy's toy, but the very thing that was the tinge of familiarity, of home, of comfort, more maybe not shoved, more so gently separated from the others. A large gap between him and his friends from Andy's childhood. Everything was fair game, he may not see them again, the ache of uncertainty, five year old kids lost toys. Despite that fear, Woody had faith that they would find their way back to Bonnie's house and get back together. He had unwavering faith in them. He knew how they fought to get back to Andy, how he sent them off, letting Andy decide whether or not to take him with, and instead, the young man had said words that gave him a new purpose.
He missed them. He missed them, dearly. He missed his friends. He missed their company. Andy's roommate, Alex Wayne, had his toys from his house nicely kept in his side of the room, they were good toys in on themselves, vintage toys, toys that had seen through a lot of use. They insisted that they were a collection, but if they were a collection then why wasn't there any other Buzz Lightyear of Star Command Action Figures aside from Zurg? What kind of collection were they?
Woody didn't find himself often back in the room with Alex's toys. Most times, he found himself on a desk, slouched against a pencil holder, having a clear view of Andy's notes, with one arm set in the pencil holder. Andy was attentive, learning, sometimes slouched, tapping his pen against his face when he weren't jotting down notes and the side of his palm would be coated in ink by the time that class was over.
When Andy didn't have him out of the backpack, Woody was inside going over the reading material. He had a smart cookie for a kid. And being in there, it was lonely, it was fortunate that Andy didn't have him in there for hours at a time. He hadn't made a bad decision, jumping in with the others, hiding, waiting for the box to be given to Bonnie. He didn't regret going into the box. Didn't regret writing Bonnie's address. He had missed toys that came before them when Andy was growing up, Woody recalled. Those heart aching feelings would go away as they always did leaving behind a distinctive hole in his heart in their shape.
With the knowledge that Andy had to soak up and be able to regurgitate in a future exam, Woody could see stress was on the horizon for his kid. And he saw it prop up in the form of Andy going to sleep with him in the days leading up to the exam. He tried to imagine Buzz Lightyear's reaction to that, being cool about it, reminiscing about his days at the academy and how he dealt with it and pulled through and passed with flying colors. The way Buzz Lightyear would have said it brilliantly played out in Woody's mind, bringing a nice smile to the cowboy's face. If Andy had loved Buzz more than Woody, there would only be a very sad Space Ranger keeping his sadness at bay being without Jessie. It was a good thing that Andy chose him. Woody was perfectly suited being without the others.
And the Space Ranger would be feeling sad being without Jessie, if Andy had chosen him, his heart yearning for her, missing her presence, and the others. They were an item, Woody saw that clearly, the incinerator and Sunnyside had destroyed what little fear there was of being rejected, of things not working out. They were happy. Woody knew that. Being there for Andy, he could swallow it. He was Woody Pride, he always had his kid's back, being a toy meant losing toys that he loved more than Andy did and being able to still love them long after they were gone. And his friends weren't gone. And he missed them, so, so, so much.
Woody had a strange dream one night that featured a carnival, colorful toys, a doll, Bo Peep, Bonnie, and getting to have one last hug with Buzz Lightyear. He bolted up from his perch at how random the dream had ended, confused, startled, looking down, his eyes darting back and forth. Bewildered. Surreal nature of the dream still slipping from his mind.
"Had a bad dream, Woody?"
Woody looked up toward the direction of the 2001 thinking chip Ash Ketchum action figure then shook his head.
"Confusing."
Woody approached the younger toy then sat down on the edge of the desk.
"Confusing in what way?"
Woody looked toward his companion who sat down alongside him.
"I did something that was very unlike me."
Ash's brows furrowed together at the reply.
"You became a lost toy?"
Woody hummed as he looked aside.
"The way a friend of mine said it in this dream doesn't make it seem that lost. His comment made sense. . . very little."
"I have had far stranger dreams," Ash laughed as he set his hand on his knee. "growing up," Ash looked over toward Pikachu who was fast asleep. "Pikachu being a real Pikachu," he turned toward Woody. "and this pokeball --" he held up the pokeball. "-- being a real one."
Woody looked toward his companion as he smiled then laughed.
"Andy didn't take me to college in the dream." Woody looked toward his kid. "It was nice to see them again but come on," Woody stretched his hands out. "that was a repeat of the incident with Buzz and I!" he stretched his hand out toward the window in exasperation. "But instead of Sid's place, it was a stupid carnival, and staying behind with Bo Peep traveling the country helping toys not become lost or get themselves a kid because of a oblivious station manager listening to music!"
Ash nodded then looked toward the pokeball.
"I had a dream like that once," Ash revealed, looking back, as Woody's pout vanished from his features. "saying good-bye to the life that I once knew; Brock, Misty, Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle, Pidgey, Mankey, Caterpie, my mom, Professor Oak, Team Rocket. . ."
"And Pikachu wasn't in it?" Woody furrowed his brows.
"He was in it, just didn't say good-bye to him in that, because well," Ash motioned toward the toy. "he's with me."
"Bet keeping him was a hard enough task." Woody remarked, chuckling, cupping the side of his face.
"You bet it were." The duo laughed at once. "Anyway, what I am trying to say is, I think that's your mind's way of saying good-bye," Woody looked toward Andy. "making peace," Then he looked back toward the eleven inch toy. "with never see them again."
"Hey, I will see them again!" Woody shot back.
"That dream says you don't expect to see them ever again, Woody." Ash pointed out to the cowboy. "Traveling the country means seeing different faces. Forever. And eventually, if things come to worse, doing it with one less toy by your side. And that's sadder than missing your traveling companions."
Woody looked away from the pokemon trainer turning his gaze down.
"How do you deal with it?" Woody asked, his voice low, then shifted his attention back toward Ash. "Your counterpart goes through regions at a time, gaining and losing friends, getting a whole new set of pokemon. . ." he looked toward the pokemon then back toward Ash as a thought struck him. "what generation are you from again?"
"Generation 1, but I was made during the Johto run." Ash said then rubbed the back of his neck as he had to give it some thought. "Geeze, it's really hard to defeat the elite four, just one of these days. . ." He looked toward the pokeball. "I want Ash to win," he looked up toward Woody with a smile. "it'll have to take an incredibly easy match."
"Ash, that is very evasive." Woody said, shaking his finger. "This isn't about gym challenges."
"It's hard going on without them." Ash confessed then looked toward the three pokemon. "I got a Wartortle, Pikachu, and Jigglypuff," then the boy smiled. "forever." he looked back toward Woody. "They'll never leave me, they always find my pokeball cap, and knowing Pikachu having my back in the series, always, waking me up with thunderbolt on time, it makes the pain all that much easier, minus the electrocution."
"Yeah, it does." Woody looked away as his shoulders fell then shook his head. "Must be my subconscious then, thinking that." Woody's shoulders lifted, momentarily, then lowered once more then shifted his attention toward Ash. "It gets lonely in there when he doesn't have me out."
Ash looked toward Pikachu then toward Woody.
"I can't imagine being without Pikachu, your friends must be like Pikachu in that respect. . ." Ash set his hand on the side of the cowboy's shoulder. "I can imagine how hard it must be."
Woody patted on Ash's hand then the younger toy withdrew his hand. He was a kind kid even as a toy. He understood clearly why the boy was so revered by kids even when they were grown up.
"Say, is Zurg awake or not?" Woody pointed over his shoulder. "He isn't moving and all so. Strikes me as a case of dead batteries."
"He sleeps like that most of the time, Woody." Ash said then laughed. "It took a long time to get used to that. When I did get used to it, I thought he was asleep when it was morning and Alex wasn't playing with us."
Woody and Ash looked toward the Evil Emperor, staring back at him, uncertainly, then exchanged a glance and shrugged. They hung out there, sitting on the edge of the desk, providing company, as Ash mulled it over.
"How about you spend some time with Jigglypuff?"
"Ah, no."
"She's a nice friend to have around."
"Ash, don't you think that Al is gonna notice?"
"Al normally has her in the backpack underneath the bed along with the two action five inch figure grubs." Ash reminded the cowboy. "She's for the wound in your heart until the pain is gone and it isn't lonely for you in there, knowing you got friends to come back to, because long as Andy's here, we'll help you get used to this stage."
Woody looked toward his kid. Reflecting, there was four words that summed up his existence up.
"Thanks for the offer, Ash." Woody looked toward the younger toy. "But being Andy's emotional support toy means not having other toys there, but. . ." he set his hand on Ash's shoulder. "we can be friends."
He wasn't just Andy's favorite toy anymore. It was a big responsibility, just as Woody was to Andy. Always being there for him.