TᕼE ᔕᕼEᖇIᖴᖴ'ᔕ ᗪEᑭᑌTY {Y/n the Everything Doll}

ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ 80 {ᑕᗩᖇᖇY ᗰE?} 🌅

Y/ᑎ ᑭOᐯ

The utter terror and horror sets in extremely quickly. My breath hitches in my throat and the the hyperventilating from Woody makes me feel lightheaded and nauseated. How are we going to get Forky back? Are we even going to be able to find him? Why does Forky think like this and how did he catch us so off guard? While my mind is churning through these priced thoughts, wrapped up in a circle of overthinking, Woody clicks straight into gear and starts acting on Forky's actions.

"Hamm, how far to our next stop?" Looking behind us Hamm checks the GPS from up front.

"5.32 miles, give or take." Hamm checks behind himself and whispers out, trying to not alarm Bonnie parents.

"I can make that." the cowboy utters to himself and scampers to his feet to tread across the mattress "I'll meet you at the RV park."

Is he really planning on throwing himself out that window too? Did he not see who's the wind yanked Forky off and far away into the night? Does he actually think that this is a good idea to go out alone? Is he truely going to try to do this by himself? I can't let him push himself, I have to go with him. For his sake. "I'm going with you." I grab a form hold of the cowboy's shoulder, I can't let him get to far in front of me, I know he'll try to convince me to stay. I won't let him, "we're in this together."

"No Y/n-" Woody keeps trudging forward to lose me but I won't let him drive himself to insanity. That's my job.

"Let's go, we're driving further and further away from Forky". I eye him as we approach the window and it's strong wind trying to push us around.

"Woody, hold on a minute." Buzz calls out from behind but there's no backing down now. Woody looks at me firmly, hooking his arm around mind. "Y/n, stop him! Wood-" a nervous yelp is lost into the night as we leap outside of the RV. And drop onto the bumper, holding on tight for dear life as we look upon our next challenge. The road below flys past, the gravely texture all a fast blur between the speed that we are moving and the dark lighting of the night illuminated with a husky red light. Woody clutch's on tight to my arm and his hat as we anticipate to make the leap. It's no big deal right? Luckily for us, the decision to move is made for us and the RV hits something on the road and we are flung up into the cool, windy air. My stomach swirls as we both hit the ground harshly. It remains me of the time I went chasing after Al's car and the tumble I had then. Coming to a rough stop the Rv disappears into the foggy distance, it's red lights blending with the haze.

"Well that did the job." I huff picking myself up and grabbing the ruffled sheriff's had for him. Woody dusts himself off roughly and graciously take his had from me to place back where it belongs on his head and pulling me close as we turn to look in the direction on Forky.

"Forky!"

"Where are you Forky?"

A little muffled mumbling catches my attention along with wriggling ruffling what would bed like leaves. Looking around my surrounds I spot a pair of popsicle sticks kicking around, trying to get free for the little ditch Forky had gotten himself into.

"Hmm, freedom huh?" I mumble while Woody sighs in annoyance, eyeing the fork. At least we've found him.

...

Later on, the sky above as begun to grow a little lighter, but the fog hasn't risen much at all from the ground. We had fetched Forky for his stuck position and had headed down the road back in the direction of the RV, not without a tight hold on each of Forky's hands. We aren't risking any more runner instances.

Woody has quite a stride in his step, not a bubbly positive one, more of a grumpy 'I'm done with this' march. I was working hard to match his pace but Forky, really wasn't keeping up. Every few waddles he gives up and lets himself get dragged by us before trying to waddle along again and again.