Fandom:
Toy Story (Movies)
Character:
Gabby Gabby (Toy Story)
Additional Tags:
Benson the Ventriloquist Dummies
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2019-04-24Words:822
Forgotten
Spearmintium
Summary:
There's no greater fear, to a toy, than being
forgotten. Gabby Gabby is temporarily
placed in the storage room of the antique
shop. New friends are found.
(See the end of the work for notes.)
Work Text:
Each year, much like clockwork, went as
follows. Readjustment, reshelving, a little to
the left, a little to the right. In fact, it wouldn't
even been a hazarded guess to assume
she'd been placed upon just about every
surface a wandering eye would think to
check.
Which was why, upon one misty morning,
when the familiar toggle of the light switch
heralded the amber illuminated glow of
business hours, not being readjusted per
usual, was cause for immediate confusion. It
also took every ounce of restraint not to
lean, and look, as footsteps progressed to
the back counter.
Curiosity co-mingled with lingering
confusion, as the squeal of long unused
wheels traveled the well-worn oak floors, a
powder blue baby carriage coming into view.
Hands reached forward next, carefully
plucking her off the shelf she occupied, and
lowered her into this new mode of transport.
The squeaking resumed, as the party of two
trekked past shelves stuffed with all manner
of antiquities, colorful quilts, flowery china,
irregular table lamps, and wrong reading
clocks. Before long it seemed, a door
loomed ahead. With the twist of a knob,
darkness extended, rushing to bathe the
carriage in it's gloom, and in doing so,
instilled a new feeling entirely.
Dread.
As the squeal came to a halt, the weakest
sliver of yellow tried its best to light the
densely filled room from a single, swinging
bulb. Much of what she could see was
packed into unforgiving cardboard boxes,
reaching nearly to the ceiling in teetering
towers. Reminding herself not to flinch at the
last second, a cleaning cloth abruptly met
her nose, polishing the smudged porcelain in
a slow rotation, then, the elderly antiquitor
was suddenly looking her right in the eyes,
seeming apologetic, almost wearily so.
"We'll try again, in the summertime" The
older woman spoke, surely more to herself,
than the silent porcelain doll, before
straightening up, tucking the cloth back into
her pocket. A few steps more, and she was
gone from sight entirely.
The clunk of a door closing had never
sounded more finite.
Sharp breathing quickly filled the silence,
bordering on hyperventilation for the briefest
of moments. "Everything's fine, everything
will be fine..." Placing a polished hand to her
chest, only to absently begin to smooth out
the wrinkles being moved had caused in her
daffodil dress. Peering over the edge of the
carriage, she'd ascertain that the distance to
the floor wasn't /too/ great, but one could
never be too careful when highly breakable.
Bundling up a fistful of the sheet that lined
the carriage, the auburn haired doll
unceremoniously tossed it over the edge. A
workable cushion now in place, she'd
cautiously hook one leg over the edge,
gripping the mouth of the carriage as tight as
she could. Miscalculating, however, the
excess puff of the sheet. As one of her mary
janes sunk slowly into it, the material would
make a sudden twist, assuring that balance
would be immediately lost.
It all happened in a flurry of motion, the
carriage tipping to one side, toward her, the
pure horror that would spring upon her
freckled features, and what sounded
like...dozens of wooden thumps crossing the
room in a span of a singular second. Before
the carriage could come down upon her,
she'd be yanked aside, sheet somehow
ending up beneath herself, like a makeshift
trampoline with less spring.
Now, she'd be loathe to confess, but fear
had squeezed her eyes closed, and
reopening had occurred /after/ her rescue.
Speaking of which...
"Hello?" She'd call out, as loudly as dared
during daylight hours, sitting up on the now
wadded blanket, searching for the
someone...or someone's, who'd come to her
aid.
Something to her far left.. clacked, only to
repeat itself, causing her to squint as the
piled boxes, and dim of the room obscured
the milling of figures a few paces away.
That simply wouldn't do, now would it?
Standing, she'd call out once more, pouring
on all the assuring sweetness she could
muster. "It's alright! Please, won't you come
out? I do need to thank you, after all" That
seemed to do the trick, as the continuously
wooden sounding shuffle grew that much
louder, until, much to her elevated eyebrows,
a pile of rather tall figures spilled upon the
floor, stacked like a felled house of cards.
The first one to stand, appeared to be doing
so, backward, until the swivel of a head occurred
and the stoic stare of what she now
realized was a ventriloquist dummy, met her
own. Now, unlike most, who would surely
sprint at the sheer, frightening sight of one,
the freckled doll merely smiled, allowing the
others to regain their bearings, quietly
watching them shamble forward, the
dummies almost seeming to exude an
uncertainty of their own.
But, the group was only met with a honey
sweet smile, and an earnest question.
"Well, Hello! My name's Gabby Gabby,
what's yours?"
Notes:
Is it a bit ahead of the curve to write a story
about a character who's only gotten 2 lines
of dialogue? Maybe, but, I also couldn't
shake the urge to write about her! ^^; I hope
miss Gabby Gabby finds a home someday.
Written as a gift for a very sweet friend.
Hope you enjoyed! <3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580687