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“Hold still.”
“No! You’re going to make it worse!”
“Relax, Sheriff, you’re in safe hands. I’m an expert.”
“You didn’t even know how to thread the needle! You needed Jessie to do that.”
“Affirmative.”
Woody sighed, deciding to leave it at that. Luckily, he had a lot more patience than before. Otherwise, he would’ve snapped at Buzz and wail at his demise, ripped up for good.
But he was a grown man—err, grown toy. So he swallowed his pride and sat still, watching Buzz wield the sewing needle like a laser sword. He kept all potential sarcastic comments to himself.
A few hours ago, right before Andy left for school, he accidentally pulled too hard on Woody’s arm (the other arm, not the one whose tear led to the whole debacle with the Round-Up gang). He was put on the desk, and as soon as the door closed, he was crowded by his fellow toys.
They wouldn’t make the same mistakes as last time, waiting around to be fixed and going on a whirlwind road trip in the meantime. Instead, Woody sat back and watched Buzz take the lead, ordering the green soldiers to retrieve the sewing kit from Andy’s mom’s room and letting Jessie and Bo Peep get him into a more comfortable spot on the bed.
Woody watched Buzz’s leadership skills in awe. Sure, he was a sheriff, so he knew how to keep folks safe and take charge when needed, but Buzz was more like a captain, making sure everyone had a role and carried through. It was an admirable quality, especially in someone who was supposed to be Woody’s designated “second-in-command.”
Now, the only downside was that Buzz insisted he perform the surgery. Woody knew that Buzz knew jack about sewing, but he still trusted him, so here they were.
After an initial protest, Woody quieted down, allowing Buzz to begin the procedure. He plunged the needle deep into Woody’s forearm, near the crook of his elbow. Woody turned the other way, looking out towards the window and the lovely blue sky, dotted with fluffy white clouds. Just like the walls of Andy’s old room.
That brought a comforting smile to Woody’s face. He closed his eyes as Buzz continued, occasionally hearing him bark orders.
“Thread refill, pronto!”
“Scissors! Steady…steady…snip!”
“Gauze! Thank you, Rex.”
“Alright there, Sheriff. All finished. Open your eyes.”
Woody did as requested. His first sight was Buzz hovering over him, hands on his hips and face set in a stony expression. Woody was startled, to say the least.
“AHH! Buzz, why are you so close?” he yelped, jumping backwards.
“Just making sure you didn’t pass out. That was quite the surgery you underwent, especially while conscious.”
“We’re toys. I didn’t feel a thing.”
“High pain tolerance. Respectable.”
Another sigh escaped Woody’s plastic mouth. He let Buzz fuss over him, running his hands over stuffed limbs to make sure they met his standards. The other toys crept closer, offering reassurances. Woody just grinned and shook his head, mouthing “Get a load of this guy.”
“Congratulations, Woody, you’ve passed the inspection. No further injuries were reported. As long as you change out those bandages, your arm should heal,” Buzz declared.
“Thanks, Space Ranger.” Woody sighed for the third time, deciding to indulge in Buzz. Just this one time. Never again. “If it weren’t for your quick thinking, I would’ve been a goner.”
“I always got your back. You know that.”
“Right back atcha. Now c’mon, I want to test out the new arm!”