~Surfacing~

Summary: Amy POV after events of the Season 8 finale. Companion piece to Drowning. She was always the stronger one of the two. The one with the patience. The one with the faith. But even she had reached her limit. How much faith will it take to prove they are truly meant to be?

Amy stared at the picture which sat on her desk mocking her. It was a picture of she and Sheldon at prom, both smiling cheesy, happy grins as Raj snapped the camera.

So many changes had occurred that night. Sheldon finally told her he thought she was pretty. And he broke down and admitted that her beauty caused him to panic. His sweet candor touched her, since she'd believed for the better part of five years that he was immune to her physical charms.

In the span of an evening, everything changed and became clear. She was so happy that night, the culmination of nearly five years of wondering and longing coming to fruition.

Sheldon was attracted to her. His actions, looks, and words proved it. But that was merely the tip of the proverbial iceberg. It was what he had admitted later that truly sent her into orbit.

He loved her. The only conclusion was that he did. His words. Not coerced or forced. Not dragged out of him. She was fully intending to admit her deepest secret; that she was in love with him and had been since the very beginning. But he beat her to the punch, turning her world upside down with four simple words.

I love you too…

She had spent the rest of the evening in a happy daze after her panic attack subsided. She floated on air, not truly believing her good fortune. Sheldon Cooper loved her.

To the casual observer, their relationship in this day and age seemed to be a joke. Five years, no sex, relationship agreements…but she didn't care how their relationship looked to the outside world. She and Sheldon were the ones in it, not them. She loved him. Heart, body, mind, and soul. Whatever shortcomings he suffered, she could make allowances for. She knew what she was getting into with Sheldon.

That was why Amy felt so guilty and heartbroken now, weeks later, after she asked him for a break.

Had she been too selfish? She knew how Sheldon's mind worked. A million thoughts swirled around his brain at any given moment. Had she been too harsh by finally breaking under the stress of his actions? She had thought long and hard about that last night together, their five year anniversary.

She hadn't expected the night to end in physical intimacy. The fact Sheldon willingly engaged in a make-out session with her made her feel warm inside at the time. He was truly making strides to show her his feelings. Amy couldn't have been more thrilled. It wasn't even about the physical aspects of their relationship that disturbed her. At that moment, she couldn't have cared less if he broke their kiss and just sat with her, talking.

What hurt her most, was that in the middle of such an emotionally intimate moment, he brought up a TV show. A TV show, of all things. As though being there in that moment with her wasn't enough. As though he couldn't wait another moment to ask her if he should start watching The Flash. He couldn't push aside the clamoring, trivial thoughts in his mind for once and just focus on her?

Amy had left Sheldon that night, driving home in distraction and tears. Would she ever be the first and foremost thing on his mind? Probably not. She would most likely always be relegated down to a lower spot after Physics, gaming, TV, Star Trek, Star Wars, Meemaw, and Leonard.

Her tears had fallen faster and faster as she realized Sheldon may never just do something for her because he knew it would make her happy. Never would he show up at her apartment with a bouquet of flowers. Flowers died, so they weren't worth the money. Never would he serenade her a Neil Diamond song just to be sweet. Singing for the one you love was a ridiculous waste of time. Never would he kiss her or hug her outside of an approved date night, just to be spontaneous. These things had to be strictly adhered to after all, or chaos would ensue.

Every calculated, intimate act was sanctioned by the Relationship Agreement. Out of obligation. Never just…because.

She had spent the next twenty four hours thinking long and hard about where they had been, and where they were headed. She had never before felt she had wasted five years of her life on a man who couldn't open up to her. She knew Sheldon, and knew he had grown more this year than all the time they'd known each other combined. She applauded him for his efforts, and appreciated the progress.

That was why Sheldon saying such a callous, trivial thing unraveled her. It negated all of the hope she had as to him ever moving forward. Were they to be stuck in this limbo forever? Would she be a fifty year old spinster, still waiting for her boyfriend to ask her to move in with him? Would she always feel she were walking on eggshells; that even the most benign comment would cause his flight risk tendencies to surface?

Coming back to herself, Amy took the picture and gently shoved it inside her desk drawer. She couldn't bear to look at it now, not when she missed Sheldon so much that her lungs felt like they couldn't produce oxygen.

The weeks had passed, and she tried to keep busy. Work was her solace, and she tried to drown herself in it much like she did when Sheldon left last summer. But each morning as she pulled into the Caltech lot, she got a lump in her throat and a pain in her chest. Twice she'd seen him, undetected, in the cafeteria. Both times, he was alone, sitting and nursing a cup of tea. He looked as miserable as she felt, which only added to her pain.

Things within the group were strained, to say the least. Leonard and Penny were going through something that neither one wanted to discuss. They hadn't broken up, but it was clear to Amy the few times she'd seen Penny that she was hurting over something. She wanted to be there for Penny, but just couldn't bring herself to broach the subject. Besides that, Penny was the closest reminder to Sheldon that Amy had. Seeing her hurt Amy, plain and simple. She was a constant reminder of how much she missed Sheldon.

Still, Amy felt like she had to talk to someone. She pulled out her phone and texted Bernadette, asking her to meet her for dinner the next evening. Sighing with relief when Bernadette agreed, she put her phone down and went to bed.

"How are you, Amy?" Bernadette asked her friend cautiously, placing a hand on Amy's. Amy swallowed, looking her blond friend in the eyes sadly.

"Not so good, honestly. I'm trying to keep it together. I really am, Bernadette. I asked Sheldon for this break, not the other way around. But I…" She trailed off, hating her weakness as two big tears trailed down her face. Bernadette watched her friend with sympathy.

"You miss him," Bernie affirmed softly, squeezing Amy's fingers. Unable to answer, Amy merely nodded.

Bernadette offered her a watery smile, one which didn't quite reach her eyes. Things had been so strained lately, for everyone. But this situation with Sheldon and Amy was the one thing she hadn't seen coming. The last year, they had made such progress. She truly thought they were moving toward a greater intimacy, such as Amy moving in with him. She was shocked at the turn of events.

They sat in silence while they waited for their food, Amy not looking forward to forcing down food she didn't want to eat. Bernadette looked over at her, deciding to just go with her instincts.

"Amy? Can I tell you something?" She asked tentatively. Amy took a sip of her water to wet her parched throat, nodding at her friend.

"I want to apologize for my heartless remarks in the past about you and Sheldon. I've used your relationship and the fact you both hadn't…you know…against you. I'm so sorry last year I said you didn't exude sexuality. That's a lie. It's clear that Sheldon is very attracted to you."

Amy swallowed, turning her head and biting her lip.

"I appreciate that, Bernadette. But our lack of physical intimacy isn't the real issue here," She said shakily.

Bernadette puckered her brows in confusion.

"Then…what is? I've always thought you were frustrated about the lack of sex in your relationship." Bernadette said gently. Amy shook her head.

"No. That's part of it, but not all. I'm just…I feel lonely, Bernadette. I want to have a closer relationship with my boyfriend. I want us to spend our nights together. I want him to hug me for no reason. I want him to look at me across a room and can't wait another minute until he kisses me. I just want…Sheldon to notice me. Sometimes I feel like he would have no problem if we go back to just being friends. That's what hurts most of all." Amy said sadly, giving up the façade and wiping her eyes of tears.

Across the table, Bernadette discreetly dabbed her own eyes. It was clear Amy's pain had reached critical mass. Perhaps if she told Amy what she knew of Sheldon's feelings, it would help ease her pain.

"Amy…I have to say something. On Christmas Eve, when I took Sheldon shopping for your present? He broke into this speech about how much he loves you. I've never in my life seen a man talk that way about a woman. Not even my father. I have to admit, I was a bit taken aback. I mean, it's Sheldon we're talking about. But I can truly say, without a doubt, that he is in love with you. I know in the past I've been vocal about you finding a man who can give you more physically, but I was wrong. What you both share is extremely rare. I know you're feeling lonely. But don't give up on Sheldon. He needs to realize how to channel his energy from the banal to what matters. You are so good for each other. You yourself have blossomed since meeting him. You owe it to yourself to stick this out."

By the time Bernadette finished, Amy was in tears. She was right; they were good for each other.

"It's just…so hard sometimes. You don't have to work for every little morsel of affection from Howard. It hurts, Bernadette," Amy admitted, the tears clogging her throat.

Bernie looked around the crowded restaurant apprehensively.

"Hey. Let's get out of here and go back to our place. You look tired and maybe you don't need an audience right now," Bernie said kindly. Gathering up their purses, they told the waitress they changed their minds about dinner. Amy followed Bernadette glumly, knowing she was right.

Later that night, Amy lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The streetlamp outside cast shadows across the walls, and Amy felt her eyes droop as she allowed her mind to wander to earlier that night.

Bernadette was a great comfort, as was Howard when he arrived home shortly before she left. Howard came and patted her shoulder comfortingly. Amy couldn't help herself, turning her anxious face toward her friend.

"Is he…alright?" She asked him, not needing to elaborate. Either way, Amy was afraid of the answer. A yes meant that her worst fears were confirmed, and her lack of presence in his life really didn't matter. A no meant she was as a heartless, cruel girlfriend who had hurt her Sheldon.

Howard must have seen the struggle within Amy's thoughts. He dropped eye contact for a second, before fixing her with a sad smile.

"Well… he is getting up every morning and going to work. He's keeping with his old routine. He's waiting for you, Amy. He worries about you. I know that for a fact. But is he happy? I don't think so. He doesn't laugh or smile anymore. He barely talks to Leonard. He won't even participate in game nights. And for some strange reason, he stares at his desk all of the time. I can say without a doubt that he misses you." Howard said gently, rubbing her shoulder.

The tears had only fallen faster after that. Bernadette returned with a cup of tea, shooing Howard away.

"Look at what you did. I was just beginning to calm her down, Howie." Bernie chided, shooting her husband a disproving look. Howard had the good sense to look contrite.

"I'm sorry, Ames. I didn't mean to upset you more. Look…relationships are hard-," He began, and Amy's head shot up.

"That's what Sheldon said the night…" She faltered, taking a small sip of her too hot tea. Howard shrugged.

"It's true though, right? Amy…I know you have endured a lot over the years with Sheldon. He's not the easiest person to love." Howard said seriously. Amy narrowed her eyes at her Engineer friend.

"No…that's where you're wrong, Howard. He is easy to love. So easy…at least, for me. What's hard is never knowing where I fit into his world. One minute, I'm secure in the fact he loves me. And the next…I'm worried he could just take it all away. I never thought I'd say this. But…I don't know if I can completely trust Sheldon. I'm terrified of him hurting me again." She admitted sadly.

Howard and Bernadette shared a long, knowing look.

"Amy…with a man like Sheldon, you have to choose at the onset if the outcome is worth the struggle. He loves you. We all know that he does. But he has aspects of his personality that he either can't control, or doesn't understand that they exist. You've brought out the human inside of Sheldon no one else on Earth has been able to. We can't tell you what to feel. This is your life, and you have every right to want happiness. You deserve it. Just don't forget that Sheldon concedes things to you the way he would never think to for anyone else." Bernadette whispered.

Amy nodded, knowing she was right.

"I do know that. I do. And I can't ask Sheldon to change for me. I love him the way he is. It's just…sometimes the way he is makes me think that I don't matter to him." Amy said forlornly.

She was being honest with Sheldon when she told him that being his girlfriend was challenging. While she had the capacity for enormous patience, the last time they were together and he disregarded her had hurt. She couldn't think of anything or anyone but Sheldon that night; the fact they made it to five years together and only seemed to be getting closer. Then he goes and blurts out that he needs advice on whether or not to watch a TV show. She might never understand Sheldon.

Coming back to the present Amy rolled over, the tears which had pooled in her eyes spilling over onto her pillow. How long would she feel this way?

For weeks, she had weighed the pros and cons. She was an intelligent woman. She tried to look at their relationship logically. The trouble was…logic went out the window every time she pictured his dear face. Imagined his soft voice. Conjured up his blue eyes.

She longed to see him. Touch him. Speak to him. He had made no attempt to see her; he was truly honoring her wishes for a break. She supposed that made her happy. At least he was respectful of her needing time to reevaluate, and not throwing a tantrum about it. And from what Howard said, he wasn't happy about their break either.

Amy sobbed, wiping away the tears clumsily. Things would have to change if they were to move forward. Perhaps, they could visit a therapist together and learn how to voice their concerns. Amy knew Sheldon would probably scoff at the idea, but a neutral party had to intervene. He obviously couldn't see her grievances. Or maybe he did, but was afraid to face them.

On and on the negative thoughts came, Amy growing sadder by the moment.

Her phone beeped in the silent room, alerting Amy to a text message. She rose heavily from the bed, walking over to the dresser to retrieve the object. Expecting to see a text from Bernadette or Penny, she was shocked to see Sheldon's name on the screen. They hadn't spoken or communicated in nearly eight weeks. Seeing his name appear on the screen made her feel dizzy. She backed up to the bed, putting her glasses on to be able to read his message.

It wasn't a greeting, or any other kind of salutation. It wasn't anything Sheldon would normally say, either. It was a poem. And not just any poem, but a Robert Frost poem. Sheldon knew how much she loved Robert Frost. The tears gathered in her eyes again as she opened the message, her eyes fixed on the screen.

The heart can think of no devotion

Greater than being shore to the ocean-

Holding the curve of one position,

Counting an endless repetition

She read and reread the poem ten times, each time making the fissure in her heart wider.

"Oh, Sheldon." She cried, wiping her eyes of the tears that were now flooding her face. She didn't know whether to be furious at him for doing this, or ecstatic that he was. It was proof undeniable, though, that he missed her as much as she missed him. Her eyes drifted over the words again, taking in their hidden meaning.

This poem spoke of patience, endurance, and strength. An eternity of being a shoreline to the ocean, of knowing your lot in life. More than that, the first line signifies the shore's acceptance of its fate; that it itself cannot think of a greater calling.

The minutes passed and nothing else came through. Amy thought that was it until another ping rang out. A harsh sob escaped her at the words displayed there. Nine words, in his typical OCD pattern.

I miss you.

I love you.

Forgive me, please.

Amy sat stunned, her heart pounding wildly. Had Sheldon reached his breaking point, as well?

I want you

I need you

You're my life

Her tears fell faster, but the hope in her heart began to bloom.

I'm sorry, Amy

You were right

I'm a fool

"Sheldon," She sobbed, shaking her head. Her resolve was crumbling. But then he texted her again, letting her off the hook.

I know it's wrong of me to do this. I know it. But you must know, that I meant every word I wrote. I am so sorry. I will give you the space you requested. But please…don't give up on me, Amy. You mean the world to me. My life without you is hollow and dull. Thank you for the years of joy you've given me. I didn't know what I had, until you walked away. I'm trying so hard to be the man you deserve. Please…come back to me. When you're ready, please talk to me. It's so silent here, without you. Love, Sheldon

Hours passed, Amy sitting there in a daze. For months, she felt like she had been underwater. She finally felt like she had resurfaced, and was able to breathe again. A serious talk was in order. It was obvious they were both hurting. Did she want a future with Sheldon? Yes. Did she love him enough to continue to have patience with him? Yes. But it was time for Sheldon to think long and hard about how far he was willing to go to maintain a healthy relationship with her. Decision made, she picked up her phone and stared at it for a while before texting him back.

I love you, too. Loving you isn't the issue.

I miss you, too. Every single moment.

I want you, too. And always will.

I need you, too. To put me first as I do you.

I forgive you. And I ask that you forgive me. I know my words hurt. But I was hurt. I'm sorry too.

Where do we go from here, Sheldon?

Amy hit send, laying back on the bed. Despite the late hour, Sheldon replied right away.

Wherever it is, I want to arrive there…together.

The ball, it seemed, was in her court.