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On any other day, Buzz should have been able to fight off the toys holding him down- but, after the rough play of the Caterpillar Room, he's barely able to keep himself upright.
“Let me go!” he yells, as they tie him to the chair and remove his screws one by one.
“To reset your Buzz Lightyear to factory settings-”
“Stop!” Buzz yells.
Fingers prize him open. Buzz tries to buck them off.
“Simply slide the ‘play’ button to ‘demo’, and hold for 5 seconds…”
They slide the switch to the right, and Buzz holds his breath… But nothing happens.
Beady eyes are watching him expectantly.
Thinking fast, he goes limp. He allows his arms to hang at his side, useless in their ropes. Then, he straightens up, feigning surprise when he encounters resistance. He fights to get his arm free.
“I appear to be wrapped in a rudimentary vine, of some sort…”
He wriggles against the ropes as he surveys the room.
“My ship must have crash landed on this strange planet… Filled with humanoid life…” he struggles. “They appear to be familiar with these vines…”
Lotso chuckles, and gives the signal to untie him. Buzz rises, and resists the urge to run for the door. Instead, he forces a smile.
“Thank you, strawberry man. I'm relieved to see at least some of the locals are friendly. Now, if I can return to my ship–”
“At ease, soldier,” Lotso said. “We’ve established a colony on this planet, but first, we have to check that you're still loyal to Starfleet Command.
“... Sir?” Buzz frowns.
“A few rangers went rogue. We've managed to recapture and deprogram them.”
“Me? Gone rogue?
“That’s right, Ranger. But you're loyal now, right?”
Buzz salutes. “Sir, yes, sir!”
There's a muted bang as the door opens, and someone cries out.
“So, Ranger: your first assignment…”
Muffled sounds of protest, growing louder.
A sack is dragged in, and, beneath it: Woody.
His heart sinks: he hadn't known that Woody was still in the building, and there's only one possible reason they'd reveal him now.
It's a test.
They rip the sack off, and Buzz braces himself.
“Buzz!” Woody yells.
“How do you know my name?” he barks.
“What?” Woody's eyes widen as he takes in the manual, opened to the Factory Reset page. He freezes. “What did they…?”
Buzz wonders if he should narrate into his arm again, but that may be overdoing it. Instead, he crosses his arms. “There appears to be no sign of intelligent life anywhere,” he says, quietly.
Woody struggles. “Snap out of it, Buzz!”
“Now, Sheriff, it seems to me that you might serve as an example to the others,” Lotso explains, as they tie him to the chair Buzz was just freed from.
“Buzz, they did something to you!” he tries again. “They've brainwashed you, erased your memory-”
“Pay no attention to him,” Lotso says. “He's just trying to confuse you.”
Woody yells with frustration, held prone.
“Not to worry, Commander,” Buzz says. “It takes more than that to trick a Space Ranger.”
Their eyes meet, and, for a second, Woody must recognize a glimmer of Buzz in there, because he struggles with renewed vigor.
“Buzz! Buzz! Snap out of it. Snap out of it. You're a-” he corrects himself. “You're my friend. We're friends.”
“Restrain him.”
“You're my friend, you're my friend!”
Buzz takes hold of Woody's arms, holding him in place. Woody yells in alarm, trying to twist from his reach, as the same toy who had removed his screws wields a box cutter at him.
Buzz hesitates.
“I don't wish to speak out-of-turn, Commander, but this strikes me as cruel and unusual punishment,” Buzz says, with a level of cheer he doesn't feel.
Ken frowns at him, but Buzz keeps a placid half-smile on his face as Woody struggles in his grasp.
The box cutter inches closer.
“Right you are, Ranger,” Lotso drawls. “But this space-siren has a bit of a silver tongue. We need to neutralise it, see?”
“Don't listen to them, Buzz, I'm your friend!” Woody shouts, as they tear a hole through his back. “Get off of me!”
Buzz shushes him, and grasps him by the back of the neck, holding him still. The box cutter stops, and an arm is thrust inside him, searching.
Woody writhes with discomfort, and Buzz keeps hold of him, suddenly worried that he might hurt himself more if he breaks free.
“Buzz,” Woody croaks, and it’s the last thing he says before they rip his voice box out.
He opens his mouth in a silent scream, and Buzz kneels down to his level, trying to apologize with his eyes, trying to make him understand. Woody sobs wordlessly as his voice box clatters to the floor at Lotso’s feet.
Buzz fights to keep his face neutral as he rises. He holds Woody to his chest as he collapses against him, shaking. Almost imperceptibly, he runs a hand along his plastic hair, and Woody leans into the touch.
Ken narrows his eyes, but Buzz stares him down, keeping a firm hold on Woody as they stitch him up again. Woody twitches with each motion, his eyes screwed shut as they finally close him up, a jagged seam running down his back.
“There. That's much better,” Lotso comments.
Woody makes a low, pained sound, and Buzz’s heart thuds.
It might still be reversible.
“We'll keep this until you've proven yourself.” Lotso picks the box up off the ground. “Though, who knows? I think I prefer you like this.”
Buzz releases Woody, but remains close. The others untie him, and he tilts forwards, in free-fall. He lands sprawled on the ground, scrambling to pick himself up as he brings his knees to his chest, gasping.
He breathes shakily, and runs one hand down the fresh seam on his back as the other touches his throat.
Buzz places a hand on his shoulder, but Woody flinches away, hyperventilating.
Buzz places his hands behind his back, at parade rest, and spies something by the door. If he can't spare his voice box, he can at least save his hat.
“I'll confine this prisoner with the others,” Buzz says, with a slight waver to his voice. He clears his throat. “Sir, commander, sir!”
He crouches down to his eye-level. Woody stares right through him, but allows himself to be touched. It's a start.
He lifts Woody over his shoulder. He stirs slightly, and Buzz strides out of the room, kicking the hat into the corridor so he can pick it up. He’s half-expecting someone to follow them, but no one does.
He picks up the pace.
He makes it the whole way down the corridor before he sets him down outside the door to the Caterpillar Room, propped up against the wall. “Woody, hey…”
Woody stares up at him, eyes slightly unfocused.
“I’m still me,” he murmurs. “The reset didn't take. I was just pretending.”
Woody stares at him. The confusion is replaced by the same look as before– the mix of sadness and resentment– only now, it stings more. He almost can't meet his eyes.
“Listen to me,” Buzz says, though Woody doesn't have much choice, “As long as Lotso trusts me, we can all walk out of here. Tonight.”
The look of resentment dims slightly, and gives way to a slow understanding. He nods his head, once, and Buzz pushes the door open. There are exclamations from the others.
“Buzz! Woody?!”
“Buzz!”
“... Woody?”
“What happened to Woody?”
“There’s no time,” Buzz tells them. Now, in an undertone: “Just stay here while I get your voice back.”
Woody's hand drifts to his throat again. He nods, and gives him a look, slightly pleading.
“No. I don't need to be careful,” Buzz puffs out his chest, getting back into character. “I'm Buzz Lightyear.”
*
Once they're all back at Andy’s house, he lays Woody on his side on the desk, with the recovered voice box to his left. By now, Andy’s things are mostly packed away, but, by now, there's enough needle and thread left in the middle drawer to get the job done…
But first, he grabs the craft scissors.
Woody holds eye contact with him as Buzz inches closer. He kneels beside him.
“You ready, cowboy?” Buzz says, softly.
A slow exhale.
He finds the place the Sunnysiders had carelessly sutured, and unpicks the threading. Woody winces, and Buzz places a steadying hand on his back. “Easy, partner.”
Woody makes a strained sound, and Buzz opens him up carefully as he reaches for the voice box. “Steady.”
He slides the box into his stuffing, and Woody shudders involuntarily.
“Sorry,” Buzz says. “Almost done.”
He reconnects the box to the pull-string, and Woody's breathing is slow, protracted. When he tugs the string slightly, it stays taut- a good sign.
“Woody?” He murmurs. “Can you respond?”
Woody twitches. “Uh-hmm.”
“Yes?” Buzz asks.
“Y-e-s.” His voice crackles, and he clenches his hand. “Yes,” he whispers. “Thanks, Buzz.”
“Don't thank me yet,” Buzz murmurs. Slowly, he retracts his hand from the stuffing, and Woody draws in a breath.
“Buzz…”
“Hold on. We still need to test it.”
Woody turns his head a little.
“... You want me to test it?”
The smallest nod.
He pulls the string back slowly, deliberately. A mechanism clicks.
“There's a snake in my boot!”
Woody lets out a shaky breath.
“There,” Buzz says. “Good as new.”
He threads the needle, and Woody watches him thoughtfully.
He coughs a little. “Is this what it feels like, when your batteries get replaced?” he wonders.
Buzz frowns.
He recalls how the Sunnysiders had held him down, unscrewed his back and tried to erase him with the press of a button. He pulls the needle upwards from the inside, piercing the cloth, and Woody inhales sharply.
“... This? No. Hopefully, it's better.”
His lip twitches. “Oh.”
“I don't know,” Buzz admits, as he adds another stitch.
Woody inhales sharply.
“Sorry. Almost done.”
Buzz goes slow, keeping the stitches slow and even. If he closes it up right, he can almost make it look invisible. He keeps going until it all lays flat, then ties off the thread and weaves the loose strand in, tucked away.
He lays a hand on the small of his back, feeling the stitching for any weak points.
“Like this,” he says, at last, as Woody shivers. “It feels like this.”