A/N: This story is based on a prompt from elgatonintendero. To avoid spoiling the story, I will wait until the end to reveal it. Have a great week, everyone!

Some anniversaries, like wedding anniversaries or the anniversary of a promotion, were joyous times to celebrate, but other annual occasions were nothing but a melancholic reminder of an event one wishes they could forget.

In previous years, the days leading up to this particular date found Sheldon feeling slightly wistful, and the anniversary itself was a day of reflection, but the grieving was minimal. This year was different. He had 23 hours and 56 minutes to go, yet already the urge to burrow completely under the covers and not emerge until the day was over was strong.

He twisted his head over his shoulder. Amy's eyes were closed, a soft smile upon her lips. A pleasant dream was probably flowing through her mind, while his own tortured him. He wanted to wake her in the hopes she could put him at ease, but rousing her out of a peaceful sleep would be selfish. The old Sheldon wouldn't have cared, but over the years, with his wife's guidance, he learned the meaning of love and empathy.

As her chest gently rose and fell, a sad smile flickered across his lips. It was because of the feelings she dredged up in him that this day was more gloomy than in years past. Until Amy entered his life, he was a master at suppressing his feelings. Without feelings, one couldn't experience heartbreak and misery.

"Without feelings, one can't experience joy," a tiny voice inside him countered.

Sheldon sighed. The past year had been joyous indeed. He married the love of his life, something his younger self would never have believed. Now he couldn't imagine his life without her. Tears pricked his eyes. Grief was a horrible emotion. If he was this distraught about the loss he experienced years earlier, losing Amy would probably kill him. He took in a deep, shaky breath and peeked at her again. She was young and in excellent health, as was he. The odds of growing old together were in their favor.

A soft murmur escaped her lips, and he froze. Eyes still shut, she curled into the fetal position, her knees pressing into the backs of his. Moving now would be more difficult, not that he wanted to escape the warmth of her body, but laying in bed awake all night while grief coursed through him would be unbearable. He needed to do something to distract himself.

Thirty minutes passed before Amy subconsciously changed position. With her body pulled slightly away from his, it was enough for him to lift off the mattress without disturbing her. Careful not to make a sound, Sheldon stepped into his slippers and shrugged into his bathrobe. He took a moment to glance back at the bed. Amy was still blissfully unaware of his departure. He tiptoed to the couch and slowly lowered himself onto the teal cushions.

Plucking his laptop off the coffee table, he flipped open the lid and stared at his screensaver, a wedding photo of him and Amy with their parents, but the photo was incomplete. One parent was noticeably missing.

Sheldon hadn't been particularly close with George Senior, unlike his brother who shared their father's interests. While they enjoyed cars and football, Sheldon preferred activities that expanded his mind. His father occasionally tried to include him, but his efforts were mostly in vain.

When a heart attack took his dad, Sheldon was startled by the magnitude of his grief. He dealt with it the only way he knew how, by concentrating on the man's faults and practicing Kolinahr, the process of purging oneself of all emotions and embracing total logic. And it worked, until his wedding day. His emotions were running high, mostly positive emotions, but when his mother mentioned how proud his dad would have been, that's when he really and truly began to feel the weight of his father's absence from his life.

Luckily, the feeling was short lived. The excitement of working with his bride-to-be on superasymmetry and their subsequent nuptials overshadowed the negative feelings. After returning from their honeymoon, the project and adjusting to married life kept his mind occupied until their theory was disproved, but it wasn't until he discovered his father's speech on the VHS tape that the grief crept in again.

Seeing his father on screen was like a punch to the gut. No longer was he the man his younger self viewed as a buffoon; he now saw him as a man with triumphs and failures like himself. A man who cheered on his team, even though they had no chance at victory. A man who made sacrifices for his family.

Blinking back tears, he pulled up the digital file of that tape, which he created before returning Wolowitz's VCR. With the volume on low, he rewatched his father's speech.

"Give 'em hell!" He repeated, the tears flowing freely.

"Sheldon?"

Sheldon clicked the pause symbol, swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, and turned his head to the sound. "I'm sorry I woke you."

Amy rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked gently.

"Today marks 25 years, a quarter of a century since my dad..." he drew in a ragged breath, "since he died."

"Oh, Sheldon!" She scooted against him on the couch, resting her head on his shoulder.

He rested his cheek on her head. "I miss him so much," he choked out.

"I know."

"Do you know what the worst part is? Growing up, I was so focused on what he couldn't do that I never gave him credit for everything he did right. He didn't know all the elements in the periodic table and couldn't do math in his head, so I viewed him as incompetent. He wasn't perfect, far from it, but he did the best he could. I... I wish I could build a time machine and take back all my narcissistic comments."

"If anyone can build a time machine, it will be you, but until then, you can improvise."

"I don't like where this is headed," he muttered.

Amy pulled her head out from under his and looked him in the eyes. "Sheldon, I know you better than anyone, and I can see how bad you're hurting. It breaks my heart seeing you like this. If I could, I would bring him back. Instead, I can only offer you the next best thing. Perhaps you'll feel better if you address your father's image as if he were here."

"I don't know..."

"It's worth a shot."

"I suppose I can try." His finger hovered over the mouse. "What if doing this only amplifies my grief?"

"You've been bottling up these feelings for years. It will be good for you to let it all out. The healing process can't begin until you face your emotions head on."

He took a deep breath then clicked the rewind symbol. Holding hands, they watched George Senior on screen. Sheldon stared unblinking at the digital image. This video was a gift, a painful reminder of his loss, but a gift nonetheless.

The moment his father uttered his last word, he paused the video. "Dad, I know I wasn't the model son. I... I made your life more difficult. You already had so much on your plate, and I either didn't take notice, or I didn't find out until much later..." He swallowed hard. Through tear-blurred eyes, he looked at his wife who smiled at him through her own tears, her hand squeezing his knee.

"You're doing great," she whispered.

He rewarded her with a tentative smile before addressing the screen again. "I took you for granted and didn't give you the credit you deserved. You raised us the best way you knew how, like when you turned down that job in Oklahoma so we didn't have to be uprooted again. It wasn't until years later that I realized the sacrifice you made for our family." He licked his lips. "I also want to apologize for all the times I made you feel inferior to me. Now I wish I could make amends. I'm so sorry," he sobbed.

Turning away from the screen, he wrapped his arms around his wife, his fingers clutching her flannel nightgown while tears soaked through the fabric.

"Why is this is so hard?"

Amy caressed his back. "I know it's difficult, but you need to let it out."

"I just want this day to be over. I might have to resort to Kolinahr to get me through."

"Suppressing your feelings isn't healthy. You can do this."

"He died so young! I was only 14. I thought I was so grown up at the time, but I was just a child." Another thought occurred to him. "What if... what if it's genetic? The doctors said it was because he was overweight, but what if they were wrong? I don't want our children to have to lose a parent at such a young age. Perhaps we should rethink having any to spare them this... this horror."

Sheldon felt Amy shift in his embrace. He released her and watched the array of expressions cross her features.

"Sheldon..."

He looked at her expectantly. She lowered her eyes and stared at her lap.

"Amy, you know I need closure. Finish the sentence."

Wringing her hands, she glanced at him briefly then resumed staring at her lap. "I... I was waiting for the right time..."

"The right time for what?"

"I was going to wait until after the anniversary. I... I probably still should... but maybe now... No, I really should wait..."

Sheldon's eyes widened. "Amy! You're not making any sense. Are you having a stroke?"

"N... no, I'm fine. I just..." She sighed, finally meeting his gaze. "I'm pregnant," she murmured.

His jaw slackened. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

Amy nodded. "I... I wanted to tell you the moment I found out, but..."

"How long have you known?"

"Just since yesterday. I didn't want the anniversary to overshadow the good news, but I guess now it's not the happy occasion I was expecting."

Once again tears threatened to fall, this time for a different reason. Taking her hands in his, he rested his forehead on hers. "It is a happy occasion. This is wonderful news!"

"But you just said..."

"I know what I said." He rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs. "Am I scared? Of course I am, but I can't live my life in fear. We've discussed having children for years. I've wanted this. I still want this."

"You're not just saying that?"

"Amy, I'm thrilled. I'm going to be a father!" He buried his head in her neck, his arms circling her.

"I'm so happy to hear you say that," she sobbed, her own tears mingling with his. "I really want this too. We're going to make excellent parents. I'm just sorry about the timing..."

He lifted his head. "Don't be. Now I have something positive to think about on this date."

As their lips met in a gentle kiss, Sheldon silently thanked the universe for bringing him Amy Farrah Fowler. When they pulled apart, his eyes roamed to his laptop where George Cooper's image still illuminated the screen.

"Did you hear that, Dad? I'm going to be a father! I just wish you could be here to see your grandchild."

Through her tears, Amy placed her husband's hand on her belly. "I was thinking, if it's a boy, what do you think of naming him after your dad?"

"Another George Cooper? We already have two. Won't that be confusing?"

"I mean as a middle name."

Sheldon looked at the digital image of the man who had given him life and swallowed hard. "I'd like that. Dad would be honored."

He replayed the video, this time pausing it when the corners of his dad's lips curled up slightly. For a moment, the younger Cooper pretended that hint of a smile was aimed at the news of the newest addition to the Cooper clan.

"I'll be the best father I can be. I'm going to make you proud."

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. As promised, here is the prompt I received. I am very behind, hence the next year/season comment (I received the prompt before season 12).

Could you make a fanfic where Sheldon's sad in his dad's 25 death aniversary, which would be next year/season, Amy tries to confort him and (at the end of it) Amy tells him that she's pregnant? It'd be awesome