Declaimer. I don't own Monsters, Inc or any of the characters in the movie. Though I'd like too. For I'd write a better ending for poor Randall.

Ok so now I'm writing fan fiction about Randall Boggs. Come on. I don't have a life so to speak, what else am I going to do with my time? I want to thank my wonderful beta Luna Rei for all her help!

Thank you!

chapter 1

Danielle DeMarsh groaned as she slid into her tiny busted up green pickup truck. As she settled onto the rough, scratchy seat, she took a moment to rub her aching feet. She was so glad that it was Friday and that tomorrow was her day off. No volunteer work, no school, and no paid work. Nothing to do but sleep. She closed her eyes, envisioning her bed. Barely beginning to doze off, she was jerked awake when her head hit the steering wheel harshly.

"Oww." She rubbed her forehead and sighed as she shook herself awake enough to shove the key into the ignition. The truck started up surprisingly easy despite, the look of it. The thing was ugly, but it was her joy and had never given her a day's trouble. Before she pulled out of the parking lot of the restaurant she was employed at, she took the time to roll down the windows.

The night was heavy with smells, few pleasant. The city sat almost right on a bog, and the sick, sweaty heat in the air certainly didn't help. It was heavy and, even though she had lived here all her life, the smell almost made her gag, but with the humidity, she didn't dare to roll up the windows.

Driving past the downtown area, heading for the outside of the city, her pale face was bathed in the neon lights of the night and sex clubs. She stopped at a red light and looked on with disinterest at the group of colorful people that crossed in front of her. Women were dressed in all types of outfits ranging from almost naked to shiny black leather, despite the heat. They were leading men around on leashes, shirtless and wearing purple lipstick. One young man turned his head and took in the sight of Danielle's tired face and nudged his friends. They stopped in the middle of the road and all began to waggle long pierced tongues at her.

Danielle just rolled her eyes and, as wicked thought crossed her mind, smiled deviously. Suddenly she revved the truck, making it seem to scream in pain as she laid down on her horn. The loud, shrill honk and the sight of the green truck shaking and pouring out black smoke, making it nearly demonic in appearance, had the young punks jumping and scurrying across the road.

Not able to help herself, she burst out laughing, the stress of the day lifting off her shoulders. She watched as the men swore at her, their middle fingers raised. She just shrugged and gave them an impish smile as the light changed and she sped off.


The hour-long drive through the back roads of Louisiana past midnight was always spooky, made even spookier by the swamp surrounding her. She turned off the main paved road down a three-mile long gravel one. She slowed the truck, keeping an eye on the road, knowing that sometimes gators and other wildlife liked to lay in the dirt and rocks that were warmed up by the sun during the day. She passed the first and only other home on the road that lead to her own house. The dirty white trailer home was tiny and housed the LaGide family that consisted of a teenage boy and his widowed mother. Danielle tried to get along with them, as they were the only neighbors she had, but they had taken to disliking her. She had protested their treatment of animals, especially the reptiles that seemed to find their way into their home. They were known to beat the poor dears senseless with a shovel and, if it was fat enough, eat them.

Growing up, she had tasted the Cajun dishes with her family, even eating alligator on occasion. But once she got old enough to put her foot down, she had said no. She hadn't eaten alligator since she was thirteen. That was the day she had walked past the LaGide place and saw the newly widowed Mrs. LaGide out skinning several baby alligators. The woman had already skinned three and her blood splattered, grinning five-year-old son was handing her another one. Danielle had stood on the gravel road, watching in disgust and shock, as the woman grabbed the scared baby alligator in her gore covered hand, placed it on the blood soaked wooden table and raised a hammer above the baby's head. Time seemed to slow as Danielle watched the woman bring down the hammer on the flat head of the squeaking baby alligator. All at once it stopped squirming and tears began to overflow from Danielle's eyes. Mrs. LaGide used her strong, callused hands to rip the skin from the still twitching body and then proceeded to gut it. Danielle lost her lunch then and there and ran the two miles back home, nearly passing out several times along the way, her asthma almost doing her in. It was after that day she sought to change the way the people treated alligators or any other animals for that matter.

She knew she couldn't change centuries of tradition in the Cajun culture, but she could help educate about animals, especially reptiles. They weren't evil like so many people believed. They were just like any another animal…just not as cuddly and a bit more dangerous than the average family dog or cat.

Danielle blinked in the harsh light of an oncoming truck. It rudely blew its horn at her and swerved dangerously on the gravel road, the tires kicking out gravel. She blew her horn back and had to pull off to the side of the road. She turned in her seat to watch the truck pull into the dirt driveway of the LaGide's. The now fifteen-year-old son jumped out whooping and hollering.

Danielle narrowed her eyes in suspicion. This road was a dead end leading straight to her house. Why would he even be past their driveway? Turning around, she put the truck back into drive and prayed that the little creep hadn't dumped more animal carcasses in her yard or mailbox again.

When she was less than a mile away from her house, she found that that was exactly what he had done: Dumped a gator right on the side of the road. Sighing, she pulled to a stop and put the truck in park, slowly stepping out. Her heart heavy at the thought of seeing another gator butchered and gutted out, she slowly walked up to it.

But as she got closer, she noticed something was off. It was huge, for one. It also looked too long and slim to be a gator, almost snakelike. Her weariness forgotten, she stared in wonder at the creature at her feet.

'No way can this be an alligator,' she thought. She had parked in such a way that the headlights easily illuminated it. It was completely limp, half its scaled body in the tall weedy grass and half on the dusty road. She quickly kneeled beside it, looking it over. The head was covered in bruises and a long gash was on the right side of its head. She raised a hand to gently touch the wide and almost flat head. It was definitely not an alligator, not with three smooth antennae on its head.

Tears pricked her eyes. "Poor baby," she whispered. But suddenly the creature trembled and shuddered away from her touch as it took a deep ragged breath. Danielle snatched her hand back and jumped away from it, not in fear but in wariness of what it might do. Nothing was more dangerous than a hurt animal, she'd learned that from experience. The thing wasn't dead, and, as she watched, it twisted and curled around letting out human like moans.

She had to make a decision. She could and should do the smart thing and walk away to let nature take its course, or she could do the crazy thing and try to get it in the pickup truck and take it home.

Well, she wasn't called crazy for nothing.

Her decision made, she turned and hurried to the truck. Not bothering to close the door, she put the truck in drive and carefully drove closer to the creature.

Jumping back out, she ran around, dropped the tailgate and went back to the creature's side. It wasn't thrashing around anymore, but, on a brighter note, it was still breathing. Closing her eyes, she took a minute to think about what she was about to do. She should tape its mouth and tie it down, but she pushed those thoughts aside, there was no time. It had apparently been bashed in the head and had already lost a lot of blood. Besides, a part of her argued, its muzzle was too short and flat to physically tape shut anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she bent down and lifted the top of its body, trying simultaneously to support its injured head and it keep it away from her. She pulled and tugged, eventually getting the top part of its body into the bed of the truck. The half moon decided to finally slip out from the clouds and that's when she saw it.

It wasn't some giant lizard as she had first thought.

It was a monster.

No animal had FOUR sets of legs.

She backed off for split second, instinctual fear of the unknown taking over. But then, gritting her teeth, she realized she didn't really care. So she continued to push the monster up into the bed of the truck, her breaths soon becoming an asthmatic wheeze. Finally getting all of his bulk into the truck, she slammed the gate shut and hurried around to the driver's side, while frantically digging through her pocket. Taking a moment, she took a few tokes on the inhaler. Getting her breathing under control she closed the door and sped away as fast as she could go without tossing the creature around in the back of the truck.


When she pulled up to her small childhood house, she didn't bother to park in the driveway. Instead she pulled the truck around to the back. Stopping only for a minute she jumped out of the truck and ran into the tiny barn that had used to house a few farm animals. She flipped the switch and the place was lit up with light. She ran around, trying to gather things up to help care for the creature still in the back of her truck.

She hurried to the bail of old straw, and started to heave it into a single stall but stopped once she got a whiff of the dried grass. It smelled too old and moldy, which simply would not do. Spinning on her heel, she turned and marched back up to her house, pausing long enough to look at the monster in the bed of her truck before hurrying on to the back door of the house. Unlocking the door, she flipped the switch and was greeted by a happy bark.

"Not now Bread," she mumbled to the half Corgi, half Jack Russell that danced around her feet. The first aid kit that she used to treat her own pets was in the kitchen. She dragged out the large, white metal box and only took the time to wash her hands and grab some soft clean blankets from the laundry room that was off from the kitchen. Slipping out the door, leaving it open but the screen door closed, she hurried back the short distance to the barn, calling back over her shoulder when she heard the whines of her dog.

"Be good now, and stay."

Her fatigue beginning to catch up to her, she went back into the barn, dropped the box and quickly spread out the blankets on the clean dirt in the stall. Then, leaving the stall door wide open, she hurried back to the truck and backed it up into the barn, maneuvering the vehicle around until she was able to back it up right into the stall. Turning the truck off, she got out and climbed into the back of the truck with the creature. Looking down at it, she noticed she had to hurry. The giant lizard monster was turning a pale lilac color. Trying to be careful with its head, she slid the creature out of the truck and into the pile of blankets. It slid almost bonelessly. Still holding the large flat head, Danielle slid out of the truck too, though not as gracefully. She slipped and came down hard on the lowered tailgate, hitting her rump hard.

Groaning in pain, she tried to ignore her throbbing rear as she finally got the pale purple lizard onto the blankets. She pulled out the bottles of room-temperature water she had pocketed, thankful for the deep pockets on her work uniform. Sitting down and having no choice but to play dangerous again, she pulled the head into her lap and reached out, dragging the first aid kit closer. She pulled out some thread that she had seen but never used. A glance told her that its skin was thicker than the soft skin of most animals. Bringing out the black thread, she quickly sanitized it and left it soaking in alcohol as she began to clean the head wound. Wiping off the dried blood caused it to bleed again. There was a long, deep gash on the right side that ran from just beside the raised eyes down to the edge of its wide mouth. Dipping her clean fingers around the wound to lift the flesh and clean the dirt out, she was saddened to see that, although the gash was down to the bone of the skull, the bone was cracked, but not crushed, thankfully, so there was no brain matter showing. If that were the case, her shotgun in the house would have been the only way to help him.

She had already known that taking it in would be the worst thing she could have done. The eight limbs had told her that. As she cleaned the wound, the creature squirmed but didn't wake up. She was glad he was still moving, much less breathing. Done cleaning the wound, she picked up the needle and began to stitch the flesh back together. It took her twenty minutes to stitch the long gash. When that was finished, she gently turned the head and took care of the other small gashes.

After she finished stitching his head basically back together, she wrapped white bandages around his head, having some difficulty because of his odd flat head. She managed, though, and stood up, gently laying his head down. She then looked over the rest of his body. Other than a broken leg on his third set of limbs on the left side, the rest of his body was unharmed. She found some dowsing rods that she had in the barn and made rather secure spilt. If he lived through the next few days, and hopefully wasn't too aggressive, she'd get some more Ace bandages to support it better. As she finished wrapping the thin leg, she noticed that, besides the visible injuries, he was also borderline malnourished and much too thin for his size, which she guessed was around twelve feet. No lizard on earth was that long except the Komodo dragon and they grow to nine feet at most, but he sure wasn't a Komodo. Finished with all that she could do, she picked up the supplies, placed them in the back of the truck, and took the time to sit and rest. As she sat on the tailgate of the truck, she watched the lizard creature. Occasionally he thrashed and curled around but other than that he was still. She couldn't help but marvel at his coloring and the pattern on his scales as well. He was a pale lilac color like his belly, but she suspected that he was actually darker when he was healthy. The main part of his tail was a slightly off color of light blue. He had greenish teal stripes down his neck and back, ending at his tail tip. But the oddest feature was the three smooth, scaleless, frond-like antennas that had pinkish tips.

Feeling a yawn coming on, she looked down at her watch. Past three in the morning. She was normally in bed by this time. Sighing, she dragged her tired sorry self off the truck's tail gate and closed it. She walked around, climbed back up into the cab and pulled the truck out of the barn slightly before shutting it off. Climbing out, she checked one last time on the strange lizard in her barn, she closed the stall door and walked out of the barn, cutting the power and closing the double doors. As she walked back to her house, her feet dragging every step of the way, she felt pride at that fact she had tried to help a living thing and that her decision to become a vet was paying off.

She only prayed that it would pull though.