AN: The beginning of a three-part story I started a while ago, but only just got around to actually working on. I hope you all like it. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Toy Story. Pixar does.
Reluctantly sliding her key into the lock, Jessie couldn't help but sigh as the thick wooden door swung open, revealing the sight of her old apartment looking, just like she had dreaded, exactly the same as it had been a few days ago.
Dropping the bag she had taken with her to Dolly's on the couch, Jessie carefully edged around the circle of destruction she had left in her wake, her eyes locked on the slight glow that came from the clock in her kitchen, casting a sickly green tint over the whitewashed walls. Pausing for a moment, a wave of pain crashed over her heart, forcing a ragged breath out of her lungs as she fought to regain control. If the light had been a few shades lighter, more yellow then green...
Slamming her eyes shut, Jessie stumbled forward across her landmine of a living room, her fingers fumbling across the wall as she searched for the light switch. Letting out a sigh of relief as the room filled with the harsh unnatural illumination, she angrily ran her hand under the bottoms of her eyes, wiping away the stinging tears that had formed. Had formed, of course, because of the pain of switching from almost perfect darkness to the extreme opposite, not because the glow had reminded her of him or anything...
Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, she was pathetic.
Clenching her fist, Jessie forced her eyes opened as she wandered away from the glaring glow of the lightbulbs, heading deeper into the darkened confines of her apartment. Carefully avoiding the dangerous piles of glass she had left behind from her last visit, it only took a few moment for her to reach the room that had felt the brunt of her fury, her hurt and pain twisting into a rage that, even now, threatened to overwhelm the piercing sadness that had settled on her heart and turn her into a force of destruction once more. Pausing to grab the vacuum she had left by the door a week ago, Jessie slowly pushed open the wooden barrier that hid her rampage from her, a startled sense of shock settling over her as she viewed, for the first time with clear eyes, what she had left behind.
Never before had Jessie been as angry as she had been almost a week ago, nor, after seeing the number she had done on her bedroom, did she ever want to be.
All around what had once been her bed room, broken pieces of furniture and glass covered the carpet, littering the floor with the remnants of what had once been precious memories. Pictures were creased and torn, the faces within unrecognizable to all but the subjects of the memories. Toy animals leaked stuffing in some childish rendition of a murder scene, their gleaming button eyes fixed in what she could believe was horror on their missing limbs or split sides. Shuddering, she quickly shook the imagined emotions from her head before turning once more to the task she had set herself.
It was time she rid herself of all reminders of him.
Gritting her teeth, Jessie grabbed an old shirt from her amazingly upright hamper before kneeling down amongst the carnage of her room, using the cloth that wrapped around her hand to carefully sort through the wreckage, discarding the trash and saving the few things she had left worth keeping.
Two hours and four trash bags, Jessie couldn't help but let out a pained laugh as she realized that her 'keep pile' was almost non-existent except for a single pair a jeans that weren't too torn.
Leaning back onto her heels, Jessie cooly allowed her eyes to wander over the pile of trash sitting by her door, her teeth clenching together as she finally took in the smashed picture frames and piles of toy stuffing that had formerly been inside some of the many toys he had given her over their time together. Although most of her apartment was still in good condition, her bedroom had been almost completely destroyed by her rage, with everything except the heavy wooden furniture that she would have needed an ax to take apart either smashed or torn. Reaching to pull out part of a torn picture that she had thrown into the paper pile, a half smile tugged incessantly at the corner of her lip as she remembered the day it had been taken. Her brother Woody had taken it shortly after she and Him had started dating, wrapped up in each other's arms with smile wider than Texas is large on their faces. It was the same smile she had seen for almost every day since high school, and the one she had woken up to more than just a few times before.
It had been a week since she had seen that smile, and her heart still ached for him. Could she really deal with that pain for the rest of her life?
Pulling out her cellphone, Jessie decided that, even if there was nothing she could do, she still had to try, if only to give reason to the pain she would be accepting as part of her life for the rest of it.
Dialing the numbers that she had ingrained into her mind so long ago when they had been kids, the same cell number that she had called almost every night throughout high school and college, Jessie was just about to push enter when her phone started to vibrate, the catchy ringtone she had set the week before filling the air around her. Without glancing at the caller id, she quickly passed the call over to her voicemail, deciding that whatever warranted a call at a quarter after one in the morning could be dealt with in a few minutes. Pressing send, it only took a moment before his voice appeared on the other end of the line, the very recording sending her heart into a frenzy as he explained that he was unable to answer his phone, and so would get back with the caller the moment he was able to. Freezing as the familiar beep screeched into her ear, Jessie grasped onto that last shred of hope that lingered within her heart, the hope that, soon, everything would be okay again, before speaking her request, the words falling from her lips without thought.
"Buzz, I know I said I never wanted to talk to you again, but, well, I need to see you. You were right, I was overreacting, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let things get so out of hand over something so stupid. I've been thinking a lot this last week, and I've realized that I don't want to lose you. I still love you Buzz, despite what I said, and I really want to work things out between us. I want to make them better. I miss you."
Pausing as the familiar sting of tears pressed against her throat, Jessie swiped her hand under her eyes, sniffling slightly as she struggled to regain control over her emotions. For a moment she just sat there in silence, the slight hum of the recorder sounding loud in the quiet apartment. When she was finally able to speak again, her voice barely more than a whisper, she laid out the last of her cards on the table and knocked the proverbial ball into his court, leaving everything up to Buzz.
"I'll be at the park all tomorrow afternoon. I understand if you don't show up, but please Buzz. Give us, give me, another chance. I really hope I see you tomorrow."
Closing her phone with a click, Jessie wondered for a moment whether she should check the message that had been left on her phone, to see who it was and why they had been calling so late. But as the long nights with little sleep finally caught up with her, Jessie instead pushed the thoughts of her late night caller to the back of her mind with a yawn, promising that, come tomorrow, she would check her messages and apologize as many times as she needed to whoever it had been that had called. Perhaps, if it had been especially important, she would send them a gift basket or something.
But all of that could be dealt with tomorrow afternoon, after her fate with Buzz Lightyear had finally been decided.