“Someone is a little determined.” Woody said with a laugh. He didn’t mind at all but he loved seeing Buzz like this. He loved having Buzz back. It was the best feeling in the world. All the pain and troubled the last month had caused were gone as far as he was concerned. They were starting over. Clean slate.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, opening the door to the broom closet. “I may not have remembered that I missed you, but remembering now, I know I missed you. Of course I’m determined.”
Buzz was glad he had this translator Woody had made for him with the charms professor. It made his life a whole lot easier. He knew he wasn’t speaking the same language as everyone he was talking to, but it didn’t matter. He understood them and they understood him. Most importantly, he understood Woody and Woody wasn’t so frustrated trying to remember enough Spanish.
From what he’d gathered, he’d only learned it through him, from their time together, which meant a whole lot to him. Buzz needed to remember that. He was sick of not knowing who he was. If he couldn’t ever remember things, even with this bracelet that Woody had made, it was going to be difficult.
He looked over at Woody from where they were laying on the bed looking at their books and took a deep breath. “Since that doctor we went to see is working here now, do you think maybe we could go see him again?” he asked, still speaking in Spanish, but knowing Woody was understanding him now. “Like, do you think he’d mind if we showed up on him now?”
Buzz had been looking everywhere for Woody. He finally realized he wasn’t in the castle. He decided he’d just wait out the day in his room. He’d come back sooner rather than later. When Buzz got to Woody’s room, he found it a mess. This wasn’t very settling for him, but having not been able to find him, he wondered if this was the cause. Woody would come back, he knew he would, and when he got back, his room would be clean.
Buzz put the room back together, dozens of scenarios flooding through his head. Most of them consisted of Woody pretending to fight off imaginary foes, even if the room looked as though it had been torn apart out of a negative emotion, not an overactive imagination. That bothered him, but he was still going to be there when he returned.
“I’m tired of all of these love songs … well I’m tired of thinking about you and the hell that you put me through, but the songs eat up some of the pain–take the place of the tears
and ease the heartache …”