The following story arose from watching two new movies this summer (and re-watching yet-once-again one old movie for which I could nearly recite dialog!), and a song that the radio station we listen to at work was repeatedly playing for a while... with "home" as a theme. This theme led me to ponder what meaning Sheldon would associate with the word, how that might be different from Amy's definition, and what changes (both small and monumental) in their lives might affect their vision of "home."

While not truly AU, this story is (for the most part) set approximately three years in the future, with some creative liberties included.

As such, I give you... The Home Substantiation

A brief note about updates: this is the first story I haven't completely finished before starting posting, and we have a few major projects at work that will tie my hands through the remainder of the year. I am hopeful to post updates on Friday mornings, and now having added this to the initial post, will do my utmost to keep this promise.

This story is for entertainment purposes only. No ownership of these characters is expressed, nor to be implied.

Prologue

Nacogdoches, Texas
February 1980

Eight, eighteen, or forty-eight… it really doesn't matter, Clarice thought, as she turned over yet again. Sleeper sofas just aren't comfortable for anyone.

And it didn't help that this winter was colder – frankly, more brutal than usual. The wind was howling at the windows, and Clarice's nose registered the briskness of the air inside her daughter's home. She missed Jack's radiant heat - Clarice could always count on him to be her thermal blanket on cold nights. He was only a few miles away; at this point it might as well have been hundreds. But Clarice had promised Mary she'd be there to help, and Jack had understood.

Clarice fluffed her pillow, and tried snuggling further under the blankets she had been given. Her glasses were on the side table, but with one eye squinting, she could read the clock on the bookshelf against the wall.

2:30 a.m.

This is why people have children in their youth, she sighed inwardly. Being awake in the middle of the night is for the birds.

As if on cue, a faint cry came from the furthest bedroom, down the hall on the right. Knowing a second, louder cry would follow if she didn't soon act, Clarice threw the covers back, sat up on the edge of the thin mattress, and slid on her slippers. She grabbed her glasses from the table, and robe from the foot of the sofa bed. Clarice tied the belt in a loose knot as she walked quietly and quickly down the hallway. The first room was on the right: Junior's room, where the three-year-old slept in blissful ignorance of his sibling's stirrings. George's snoring was audible as she next passed the closed door to where he and Mary slept, in the master bedroom on the left. Clarice turned as she reached the last doorway on the right.

Assisted by the gentle glow of a nightlight plugged into the wall, a single crib came into view from across the room. The crib held two newborn infants only a few days old… souls that had formed together but were as different as night and day. One was wrapped snuggly in a soft pink infant sleeper, sucking contentedly on a pacifier. Her eyes were softly closed, and her head turned away from the beginnings of a commotion building beside her. Already, it seemed, she knew how much attention to pay to her sibling.

The other child, wrapped by a similar sleeper but in a robin's egg shade of blue, was having nothing to do with the pacifier that lay immediately beside him. His fists were clenched in an infantile display of rage, and his eyes forced closed. He looked ready to release a howl to let everyone within earshot know exactly what he was thinking, and whether or not they cared was already completely irrelevant to him…

"Now, Sheldon," his MeeMaw cooed, as she reached into the crib to lift her grandson.

Clarice's attempts to soothe Sheldon were met with an indignant stare… his pale blue eyes did not waver when they connected with hers, a bold moss green. She could see he had an innate sense of self; even though an infant, Sheldon felt no need to be humble before anyone. The depth of those blue eyes would develop over the course of the next nine months. The depth of that soul was already apparent to his MeeMaw.

But, at least, Clarice had his attention. Sheldon was quiet… for now.

"So, sweetheart, what has you up at such a wretched hour?" Clairce asked him calmly, not really expecting a reply. Sheldon's face visibly softened as he heard his grandmother's voice. He continued to look her directly in the eyes.

His MeeMaw knew what to check. Sheldon had last been fed only an hour ago, so the chances of hunger were small. Next on the list…

Ah, yes.

"That can't be comfortable, Sheldon. Let's get you changed."

Clarice laid Sheldon out on the changing table, and pulled up his sleeper. With the consummate skill of a well-practiced grandmother, she kept one hand on his stomach while reaching into the drawer for a clean diaper. Sheldon's eyes followed her movements. He remained otherwise still for her.

Clarice made short work of removal of the offending garment, disposed of and replaced it with a clean one over the top. A quick wet wipe around all ensured no irritant remained on his gentle skin. She fastened the new diaper closed, and checked quickly around his back to make certain all was secure. Clarice then pulled the sleeper back into place, and picked up her grandson.

"Better?" Sheldon's MeeMaw smiled, as she cradled him in her arms. And his eyes stayed linked to hers.

Clarice loved all her grandchildren, and knew they were each special in their own way. But this child… well, only a MeeMaw could see his gifts that would come with time. Clarice knew Sheldon would go far in this world, and knew also of the struggles that life would bring him. She vowed within her own soul she would nurture and guide him, for as long as life would allow her to do so.

Clarice settled down in the nearby rocking chair with Sheldon, who was seemingly wide awake after having been changed. He was a quiet baby when content… not that this was very often. But days-old Sheldon seemed to know where he belonged. Right now, home was in his MeeMaw's arms.

Clarice drew a nearby blanket over the two of them, making certain not to cover his head. Sheldon laid his head down directly on his MeeMaw's chest, where both her robe and nightgown parted. He could hear the sure, rhythmic beat of her heart, keeping time with the rocking of the chair. Sheldon was warm, dry, and secure of both his MeeMaw's hold and her love. He snuggled in and closed his eyes.

His ears heard as his body felt the lullaby, sung softly by his MeeMaw…

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy, when skies are grey
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away…

Chapter 1

Pasadena, California
Thirty-eight years later…

This was the twelfth stop out of seventeen scheduled for the day, and Sheldon had already had more than enough three stops ago. He had been riding around in a vehicle that wasn't his, been subjected to germs that weren't his, and the number of colors and designs and choices were overwhelming his senses.

Sheldon sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Shutting out some of the extra stimuli – even only the visual ones – helped to allow Sheldon to focus his mind and gather his thoughts. What he wouldn't give to be back home… 2311 North Los Robles, Apartment 4A, Pasadena, California… sitting on His Spot on the dark red couch, in his perfectly climate-controlled environment, drinking a cold soda through a piece of Red Vine and watching The Empire Strikes Back.

The mini-van suddenly jerked to a halt, narrowly avoiding hitting the car parallel-parked in front on the residential street. The movement shook Sheldon from his reverie. Dear Lord, Sheldon extoled only in his thoughts, with more than just a small amount of piety. He released his involuntary stronghold on the arm rests, and started to breathe once more. A soft, warm, petite hand covered his, and a soothing voice reached his ear.

"Come on, Sheldon. You can open your eyes now. We're here." Amy whispered to him.

Sheldon cautiously opened his eyes, and leaned forward to survey the neighborhood through the front windshield from his position in the back seat. House after house on both sides of the residential street… not too cookie-cutter, but not too dissimilar… large front lawns with trees… a few kids milling about on their bicycles in the late March Saturday afternoon sun. Suburbia at its finest.

It made Sheldon sick in his stomach.

######

For as long as he could remember, "change" was a foul word in Sheldon Cooper's vocabulary. And it seemed that whenever he had his world exactly how he wanted it, something or someone would try to change it. It had taken innumerable roommate interviews, and more than a few roommates in his apartment before he met Leonard Hofstadter. Sheldon was able to train Leonard to be the best roommate possible (save, of course, a clone of himself), and they roomed with one another for eleven years. Leonard had left when he married Penny almost three years ago; only moving just across the hall, but that was nearly enough to break Sheldon completely. Nearly… but not quite. Soon after Leonard left, Sheldon's new roommate joined him.

And this one was unlike any other he had roomed with in the past. For this roommate not only shared his living room, kitchen, and bathroom… this one shared his bed, his heart, and his name. Amy Farrah Fowler and Sheldon had married as planned, one year after their engagement. They invited all their friends and family to the bed and breakfast where they had stayed following the fateful Valentine's Day train trip three years before. Sheldon and Amy were married on the wooden bridge overlying the pond, tucked away in a clearing of the wooded expanse behind the manor home.

The first year of married life had been kind to Sheldon and Amy, and as with many married couples, was a series of lessons in learning to live with one another. To minimize the shock to Sheldon's system from all the changes in his life, Amy had agreed to move into apartment 4A. She had agreed to compromise on maintaining a meal calendar and a bathroom schedule. Sheldon had compromised as well, sharing dinner preparation duties after work and agreeing to do away with the television schedule.

That was, except when episodes of Dr. Who or re-runs of Star Trek or Firefly were on. And then, of course, all bets were off. Amy would pick herself up, kiss Sheldon good bye, and go back to their bedroom to watch what she wanted on the new television she bought soon after the wedding.

After all, some things are cheaper than divorce attorneys - second televisions and good plumbers being among those…

In mid spring of the second year of Sheldon and Amy's marriage, Amy's 35th birthday came about. And with that occasion, for Amy, an awareness of the passage of time as well. Amy understood, statistically speaking, her chances of having difficulty conceiving and bearing a child were increasing with each passing year. And while she could rationalize that Sheldon should have been more than enough "child" for her to raise, something else from deep within her called out… a need that could only be fulfilled with Sheldon being willing…

Sheldon, for his part, had conflicting thoughts and emotions around trying to have a child of their own. He wanted to raise a family of benign overlords, someday… but he had only had Amy to himself for the last eighteen months and wasn't certain he was ready to give that up yet. Sheldon knew the science and the math surrounding their risks due to Amy's increasing maternal age, and knew that while these windows weren't closed, they definitely were not as wide open as before. Several long, hard, serious conversations were exchanged around all these ideas, many of which ended with one or the other in tears, or walking away to come back to the table at a later point after heated tempers had cooled. But one day, Sheldon's mind became certain… and he reached across the coffee table and took his beloved's hands in his own. Amy looked into his eyes and saw his decision before he even spoke a word; her emerald eyes danced along with her heart for the joy she felt from what she saw there.

Besides, as Sheldon grew to appreciate fairly quickly, practice is often fun…

Nature, unfortunately, is a harsh mistress sometimes, especially for those who like to plan. She had her own timetable, and it did not mesh completely with Sheldon and Amy's. Several months passed, and Amy was left in tears of disappointment each month when she realized their efforts had been for naught. Sheldon buried his own frustrations so as not to aggravate Amy's, and he anguished, quietly but often, over whether there would ever be a success. They had one blessing - each other - to hold on to during those sorrowful times, and to spur hopes anew for a following month.

And so it was on Christmas Eve, nearly two years after the wedding, when Amy sat Sheldon down on the couch, in front of the brightly-decorated tree that offered the only light for the room. Amy gathered herself, and watched as Sheldon's pupils fully dilated, when she shared with him the news she had fought to keep to herself for the last few days. This news brought the widest smile she had ever seen to his face, and warranted her being lifted high and spun around the room once again in a celebration of joy…

######

Sheldon reached into his pocket to pull out the next in a long line of disposable, pre-moistened antibacterial towelettes. He tore into the packet with relish, and shook open the thin, folded paper towel to manage the door handle on the other side of the van for Amy. The door slid open with ease, and he held out his hand to assist Amy from the van.

"Sheldon," Amy said, exasperatedly, while rolling her eyes for seemingly the hundredth time. "I can get out of a car by myself, you know."

"I know," Sheldon replied. "But in your condition…"

Amy scoffed once again at Sheldon's over-active concern. The bump in the midst of her belly - almost five months along - was only just beginning to make its presence known. It barely made a difference in her balance. Amy's sense of self-reliance was put to the test, but there was a not-so-small part of her that relished the attention after having felt unimportant to Sheldon in times past. If Sheldon wanted to be a little protective, Amy was willing to let him. But just a little.

Amy took Sheldon's hand and stepped down, looking around to survey the neighborhood. Then she turned to the house they were next to view. The house was two stories, with a large wooden front door, and attached two car garage. Deep red brick ran the entirety of the face of the house, and a large picture window in the front room gave ample opportunity to view out the front yard. Amy took Sheldon's arm, and squeezed it softly. "I like this one," she murmured in his ear.

Sheldon looked down to see Amy's broad smile. He knew her arguments, and worse than that… Sheldon had to admit Amy was right. Owning a house made sense. There would be more room in a house than with their apartment, which would be important once their child arrived. Initially, there would be a need for space for the infant living with them and the accompanying furnishings, Amy had reasoned. Later, the need would grow with their child's toys as well.

Paying money into a house mortgage that you would (at least in theory) be able to get back out when you sold it at a future time was better than pouring money into an apartment rental that you would never see back again. The interest paid into the house was tax deductible.

All were intelligent, well-reasoned arguments for purchasing a house. And yet, Sheldon couldn't help but see all the work that invariably goes into a house… lawn maintenance… appliance upkeep… painting… plumbing… And then there was the big thing that outweighed them all. Change.

Sheldon knew where he was in Apartment 4A. He could walk the entirety of the apartment blindfolded and not bump into or trip over anything. He knew exactly how many steps there were from his side of the bed to the bathroom (fourteen). He knew without thinking which cabinet the dishes were in (second from the left), and which shelf the milk was on in the refrigerator (top right). Life was predictable in his apartment. And Sheldon didn't want to see that upended.

The realtor turned to Sheldon and Amy from the front door. Her smile seemed a little forced – she'd had to make more concessions and amendments for this couple, and in particular for the male party, than she'd ever had to before - but she opened the entryway and invited them in. Amy stepped up the front two steps, pulling a reticent Sheldon along behind her.

The entryway opened into a large, open room floor plan. To the fore of them was a living room space, with large vaulted ceiling and a gas fireplace across from the entry. Amy headed to the right first, quickly taking in a powder room before heading toward the kitchen. Sheldon inwardly counted steps (ten… eleven… twelve) as he approached the opening to the kitchen and dining areas. Tile floors… grout that would harbor an infinite number of germs… other people's germs. Sheldon shuddered at the thought.

As Amy looked over the appliances, Sheldon spotted the first evidence the current owners weren't as uncouth as he thought. There was a tea kettle on the stove, and a box of teas on the center island. Amy took Sheldon's arm before he had a chance to sort their collection of varied teas.

Amy pulled Sheldon along when she opened the door immediately off the kitchen, and found the wonder of all wonders – a laundry room! Now this house had Sheldon's attention. For well over a decade Sheldon had brought his (and for the last two years, their) laundry up and down the stairs between 4A and the apartment building basement. Maybe, he thought, having a house with same floor laundry wouldn't be a bad idea after all…

Exiting the kitchen and headed back to the left, the realtor led Sheldon and Amy up the stairs to the second level. There were two bedrooms upstairs, of similar size with their current bedroom in the apartment, and a standard full bathroom in between. Back downstairs, Sheldon stopped to peer in the office space, while Amy and the realtor led onward to the master bedroom. For Amy, it was love at first sight. The king size bed they had invested in soon after the wedding, which was really a bit too big for their apartment, would fit easily in this new room. Sheldon joined the other two as they toured the master bathroom: a walk in shower was nice, but separate sinks? His own sink? He wouldn't have to share space with anyone, let alone their germs? Few things said "paradise" to Sheldon, aside from the words his own.

Sheldon was beginning to warm to the idea of a house after all, when he heard Amy gasp. Sheldon ran to Amy's side, thinking something was amiss, and he found her with her hand over her mouth, wide eyed, and staring into the last room of the house.

A small room, to be sure, and just off the master bedroom. More of a secluded alcove… not truly a bedroom, as there was no closet. The walls were bare, but a warm shade of chocolate in color. What this room had that so swiftly grabbed Amy's attention and now held Sheldon's as well; this room offered a glimpse of the future in its midst: a dresser, crib, changing table… and a rocking chair.

Sheldon knew without another breath inspired, step taken, or word spoken. He'd been had.

Realtors are as different as people can be, but the good ones are always prepared. Sheldon and Amy's realtor knew she saw a light at the end of her seemingly endless tunnel. The agent had paperwork ready to prepare an offer to be presented to the current owners, and shuffled Sheldon and Amy outdoors in the back yard to discuss the house while she hurriedly made the offer contract ready.

Amy stepped out on the deck to the rail, and leaned over to view the back yard. It was open and grassy, with a few flower beds to the east side of the deck. A wrought iron fence surrounded the yard, allowing for views in all directions. In spite of the unusually cool spring weather, Amy wasn't shivering. Another lovely consequence of the new life growing inside of her…

Sheldon stood back and watched Amy as she leaned her head back and breathed in deeply. A soft smile passed over her features.

"You're happy with this place?" Sheldon asked.

Amy didn't bother to open her eyes or turn around. "It feels like home," she sighed happily.

Sheldon scoffed. "Home is back at our apartment."

Amy opened her eyes and turned to face Sheldon. "Home isn't a place, Sheldon. We live in an apartment; this is a house. 'Home' is what we make of wherever we live."

Amy stepped up to Sheldon, took his hands in hers and looked deeply into his eyes. "I need you to be fully honest with me, Sheldon. Nothing else will do right now. We've researched everything about all these houses we've seen today: safety, crime rates, insurance, driving distance to the university, schools…

I know this is a big change. You're going to have to start driving to work. We'll be making more meals at home to afford this. But it's time… we are going to need more space in just a few short months. The finances make sense. We can continue looking at other places, but this one somehow feels right to me. Do you want to keep going, or make an offer here?"

Sheldon returned the depth of Amy's stare. Sheldon saw within Amy's eyes the future, and knew that change was afoot. No amount of his will would stop this force of nature. It was time to graciously admit defeat. But he would not go quietly.

"I get the office for my computer room, right?" Sheldon asked.

Amy grinned broadly. Then an odd look came over her face… uncertainty first, then recognition…

"Oh!" Amy quietly expressed.

"What?" Sheldon was immediately troubled.

Amy's hesitation changed into a smile that would stretch across universes. She took Sheldon's hand, and brought it over the top of her gently protruding stomach.

And Sheldon felt it… as soft as a feather, but definite, discernable movement against the palm of his hand from inside Amy. Sheldon looked at Amy, shock and awe written on his face. Sheldon had never before felt so in tune with nature and the grand plan for the universe, as when he first physically felt that part of the both of them, growing inside of Amy.

Suddenly, Sheldon was at peace. This was meant to be.

"I think she agrees with our choice of a house," Amy shyly told Sheldon.

"Or he does," Sheldon replied, with a similar smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

Sheldon and Amy had decided long before that the baby's gender would be a surprise at the delivery. On this decision, and maybe this one only, they had been unanimous from the start.

Now, it appeared the three of them were making the decision for their first house together.

Amy's smile on re-entering the house told the realtor all that needed to be said. And the agent breathed a huge sigh of relief.