A/N: So...what am I doing in WodyxDolly territory? Well, I've never cared for WoodyxBo that much, and one day I basically stumbled upon this glorious ship. This basically starts at that moment in the trailer, going a little farther down with my 'predictions' ENJOY!
"Do I need to be worried?"
Because I'm not.
I'm not worried. I need to know if there's a reason to be worried. Though my hand rests like a smug child on my hip and my eyes settle comfortably against him, like I'm mad at him, I can't be. Not when he's doing the right thing, when he's trying to be the hero, when he's being so good. I wish he was the villain, then I could get mad at him. But then he wouldn't be Woody. I wouldn't want that.
"My guys are veterans, they'll hang in there." Woody says, pride dripping from his glassy eyes and confidence radiating off his face. Don't do that. I wish he'd stop looking like a soldier on a mountain, the sunset painted behind him glinting off his medals, smiling before protecting his country, while I stand there, bawling my eyes out, pleading that he comes home safe when he never does. I wish he'd stop looking like that.
"Being experienced with death doesn't make you immune to it." I back into my corner, though the dulled, tired light glaring through the blinds reflects off my vision, tilting and blurring what image I had of the cowboy before me.
The stupid smile of his. "Thanks for the concern Dolly, but we'll be fine." A thousand memories seem to flash over his eyes. "We always are."
He stands up and twirls the singing light. "Take care of the toys while I'm gone, alright?"
I nod. I have nothing else to say to him.
A backpack slings over his shoulder. His eyes bore into mine, and a gasp I didn't ask for breaks in, before he says, nearly a whisper, "We'll be back."
He turns around.
I should say something.
You'll get hurt.
But, as my breath scratches my throat and my words catch on my tongue, as he hops down the table and walks out of my view, only two words roll off my trembling lips: