Author's Note/Disclaimer: I do not own Toy Story or it's sequels. The closest I get is a toy Sherriff Woody doll and a toy Buzz Lightyear and those were made by other people. Also I have no beta and really no one who would so there might be some grammar issues.

Missing Memories

His earliest memories are of playing with Andy. Sometimes it confused him to try and remember those early days. Being held lovingly by Andy, being played with by Andy, but there were times his memories told him Andy had blond hair not brown, and that Andy should be bigger than he was or smaller, that Andy's hair should be longer or not there at all. He'd attributed these memory glitches to stress, or the pressures of leadership. He never mentioned it to the others. For the most part he put these strange thoughts out of his mind and did his best to be a good leader.

That got harder and harder as Andy grew up. One by one friends and family got sold, given away, or thrown away. The remaining toys were slowly losing hope, slowly losing their allegiance to Andy, and to him. He tried he really did, tried to find ways to lift their spirits, tried to enact plans so Andy would play with them again.

Then came another garage sale.

Then she was sold.

He'd promised her he wouldn't try to save her. She was a lamp, she was porcelain, and he was Andy's. She made him promise to go on after. He had promised, he'd watched from the window as young girl picked up his love, watched as she took the porcelain lady to her mom and begged, watched as Andy's mom boxed her up. He didn't watch anymore than that, he couldn't, instead he quietly snuck from the room, to a small storage closet and slipped inside. This was his secret place, their secret place. A place the humans wouldn't notice a few toys, wouldn't notice extra things, it was a place full of memories for him.

Slowly he ducked behind the larger old boxes in the front of the closet he ducked under the bottom shelf and into the place they had jokingly thought of as their house. Some old Barbie furniture, some scraps of cloth, and a small battery powered light had transformed what could have been a dusty dark corner into what looked like a nice living room. A smaller box they'd pushed under the shelf had long ago became a bedroom. She could have hidden here, but even he knew that one day this place would be discovered, and most likely anything found here would be thrown away.

He spent the next few days there, remembering, looking at old photo albums and trying hard to remember the past and the good times. Wanting to remember every instant of their life together, and realizing he couldn't. He had no problem remembering the 16 years since Andy was a baby, had no problem remembering nearly every detail, but they'd been together even then. His memories start with sitting beside her lamp on a shelf watching baby Andy, of her kissing him and of feeling complete joy and confusion.

Before that he couldn't remember.

He so wanted to remember.

He knows that he must have had another owner. He assumes she was there with him, wherever that was. Looking around the small hidden sanctuary he found some post it notes and small pencils and sat in the middle of the room to write.

He needed to sort out what he knew, he needed to find out what he didn't. He wanted to remember every detail of his time with her. He knew he was older than his memories allowed him to remember. Slowly he started listing everything he could remember from his past, not really focusing but writing whatever came to him. Grief and exhaustion overtook him and he collapsed hand still gripping the pencil.

That's how they found him, just hours later, collapsed on an old photo album, a pencil clutched in his hand and a look of sadness and exhaustion on his face.

Gently the spaceman lifted his best friend and lay him on the little couch in the corner of the room, covering him with the home sewn blanket that had been folded and hung over the back.