Sheldon was in hell. Burning, straight from the furnace, biblical hell. If this wasn't the hell his mother spoke of in all her "come to Jesus" lectures, he had no idea what was.
When he finally figured out that he could prove that there was more than one universe, Sheldon prepared himself. He prepared himself for all the new found fame and glory he would receive for his advancements in the world of science. He prepared himself for all the interviews, lectures and symposiums he would soon have to attend to explain his genius. But more than that he was prepared to truly see all versions of himself. He was prepared to go where no man had gone before- other universes and dimensions. He was prepared to see all his different life paths, whatever they may be.
Yes he was aware that all universes had different codes and variables that held him together. What made him majestic in one universe might be gone in the next. So he had prepared himself for all the new found horrors and sights that awaited him. For all he knew some versions of him could be composed of spinach, some versions of him could be religious, and some of him could even be…dare he even think it… menial doctors in human health. But never, never in all of his preparing could have he imagined the first Sheldon he would see, in all the wide universes, would be sitting on a bench donned in a dark blue velvet unitard.
Oh no, this was not what he had prepared himself for. Yet there he was, in a universe not completely unlike his own while another version of him- with the same hair, same smile, same height, sat on a bench in one piece of tight fitting fabric and tan ice skates. Yes, Sheldon decided, that was the worst possible thing he could imagine.
A door clattered in the room as it hit the wall behind it, as a couple barged in yelling at each other in a language Sheldon had never heard before. Or maybe he had, but the females pitch was so high and fast it hardly seemed like any distinguishable language he could make out. The girl was a lanky pale red head her bun so tight it seemed to be pulling her scalp towards her face. Her face was turning the color of her hair as she hit her counterpart repeatedly with her fists. Her partner, a lanky tall blonde man with far too much blush on, started grunting back in low tones. Sheldon looked around the room but as far as he could tell he was the only one noticing the outburst. People scattered by, talking in louder tones to be heard over whatever extra noise the couple provided. There were people reading over programs, girls practicing what looked like dance moves in a corner, a man counting beats loudly as he added more hair gel to his coiffed hair. The other version of himself didn't even look up from the empty void he was staring into. The couple in the corner kept getting more and more heated until soon a man in a black sweat suit was started trying to get the redhead under control. Sheldon watched as she continued yelling, and struggling against the bigger man. No matter how he tried to hug, pull, and drag he couldn't seem to carry her away from the man she was yelling at, who gradually raised his pitch until he was yelling in frustration.
It was at this point he saw his counter part look up when the females restroom door behind his bench opened and shut. The girl walking out was clearly an Amy look alike, except for the lack of glasses and hair difference. Instead of Amy's long hair she had a short black bob that came right under her ears. She was wearing a matching outfit of dark blue velvet with a white trim. Her makeup was less dramatic than all the women in the room, but still pronounced with bright red lips and dark eyeliner. Penny had once tried to explain to Sheldon that the eye liner style was called a cat eye, but it certainly didn't make this Amy's eyes look like a cat. She instead looked like a little pixie. Short, whimsical, and her chest covered in glitter.
Sheldon hadn't been prepared for this. He knew, going to other universes his counterparts might have a small chance of running into people he knew, but he had never considered that maybe the people in all universes were tied somehow. He thought the chances of one Amy and one Sheldon knowing each other were slim, yet here were two different Amy and Sheldon's somehow intertwined again. He looked around at the faces, wondering if Leonard or Penny were going to come out of the woodwork, but no one else looked familiar. The only two faces he knew were the two people in ridiculous tight blue outfits now sitting next to each other. He watched as the other version of him handed the other version of Amy a breath mint, and she took it without question. She smiled at him shyly and placed it into her mouth, sucking on the mint as opposed to chewing on it. Her eyes followed the original fighting couple, as the redheaded girl was being dragged out of the room.
"You look beautiful." The other version of him said quietly and he watched as both of their cheeks flushed. She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by a short bald man who ran up to them excitedly. Like the man that had pulled the other couple apart earlier, he was wearing a tracksuit, but unlike the other man he reeked of whiskey and mothballs. His eyes also possessed a maniac quality to them.
"You two are on deck!" The man said in another weird accent Sheldon couldn't place. The closest it sounded was to Russian, but even then Sheldon thought it couldn't be a precise match.
He watched as the other version of him, stood up and offered his hand down to the spite Amy. She smiled up at shyly and allowed his strength to propel her upwards. They walked together toward a rink. Sheldon, following his counterparts, couldn't help but notice the way the two of them were intertwined but not. Every time Amy would look up at the other Sheldon, his eyes would meet hers, and then one would look away sheepishly. Then a couple seconds later, the other Sheldon eyes would inevitably be drawn to her, until that very second that she looked back at him and they would both look away again. And if that wasn't bad enough their hands were driving him insane as well. They kept brushing up against each other like two wheat strands on a hot day. Yet as often as they touched, or brushed neither one seemed to take hold of the other. They just seemed happy to orbit around each other. Sheldon never thought he would want him and Amy to hold hands as bad as he did at that moment, if only so they would stop being so indecisive. But as it was he had no choice but to watch them play tag with their pinkies as he followed them to a box outside the rink.
On the ice he could see two people skating away to some sassy salsa tango. The girl in the routine, with her blonde bun and short red skirt kept winking at the audience, or shaking her hips with every flick of the skate. And the boy behind her was positively flamboyant with his hip thrusts. Sheldon did have to admit they were upbeat and interesting to watch, but the matter itself made his chest start hurting. Was this what his routine would look like? No one in any world should ever see Sheldon Cooper shaking his hips. The last thing Sheldon wanted to see himself as was an ice Ken doll. Sheldon breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the closing notes to the routine, marking the end of it's cheesiness and obvious sexual overtones. Based on the applause Sheldon gathered not everyone around him felt the same way he did about the routine and he could assume they achieved whatever was desired of them in this competition.
He watched as the theatrical couple swept into the box to receive scores. His and Amy's doppelgangers stood and started to walk over to the same box, marking that it was close to their turn. He watched as the other him led the other Amy by the small of her back through the crowd. Every time he slightly turned to avoid someone, she followed his gesture without question. And it reminded Sheldon of his own Amy. But his own Amy never relied on Sheldon to lead the way. She instead would take his hand and use her small shape to maneuver her way through crowds. Sheldon idly wondered which one Amy would like a better- being led or leading.
The blonde girl with the tight bun was exiting the box smiling, as his mother would say, like a cat that had just ate a canary. She looked at Amy in a way, that didn't settle in his stomach well, and apparently the other him had the same reaction. He watched as he shifted the other Amy to the outside of him, right as the girl purposefully bumped into where Amy would have been. She walked past without apology, her hips seeming to sway even more with confidence as she walked away. Besides being slammed into by a girl half his size, the other him didn't even scowl. Even when his Amy looked up at him with a sorry expression, he just shrugged his arm out and smiled at her confidently. This seemed to ease the other Amy's mind and she leaned into him a little bit, but not close enough to touch.
"Now remember- you two are going to take it all." The bald man was saying to the couple over the noise of the crowd talking loudly. Sheldon could see a camera across the rink facing them, the three of them in the little box, but it wasn't close enough to pick up any sounds as far as Sheldon could tell. "They had sex appeal but you two have talent. And in my book that counts for a lot more." Sheldon watched as the pair clasped hands tightly at that and for once he was relieved they at least seemed to have made a decision on the hand front.
"Just remember." The bald man continued. "You two are hopelessly in love." At that the couple looked at each other in shock, or something akin to embarrassment before sheepishly looking away from each other. Even from far away, Sheldon was certain the camera could pick up on the blush covering both of their faces. They lit up bright red. "Just be Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde, Orpheus and Eurydice, and every couple that loved each other so desperately but couldn't act on it." The speech hardly seemed over to Sheldon but the couple merely looked at each other, smiled softly and nodded. They took a breath in unison, and then turned at the same time to face their fate. He watched as they slowly skated out on the ice, their hands linked so tight that he wasn't sure if anyone could tell where one hand stopped and the other begun.
Sheldon found, in spite of himself, he was holding his breathe with the rest of the audience while a suspenseful quiet fell across the room. And then it started, the music, swelling and building with the story it was yearning to tell. He watched as Amy skated in and out of his arms, her long legs and arms gracefully embracing him, pulling him near, spinning away. He watched as he longingly stroked her face, pulled her in, and then raised her like a queen, holding her tight in their own little bubble. He watched the couple breathe in and out as a group, each move happening so effortlessly. Unlike the couple before, it wasn't showmanship, or moves- it wasn't a hippie dippie circus. They didn't look to the audience for gasps and shocks, they moved into each other and every glance they gave, every gentle touch seemed to inspire the next move they made. Like the dance was being created in their own private world.
Sheldon found himself transfixed with every lift, every slight turn, and every reach that the couple seemed to share between them. Every move was a tale, a paintbrush painting an intimate moment, every gasp part of a story. Like everyone else, Sheldon's heart stopped when Amy was raised, spun and then lifted on his back. Her arms were wide as if to welcome the world around her, the breeze moving against her as she teetered on only his shoulders across the expanse of the rink. He should have been interested in looking at himself, but like everyone around him his eyes stayed glued to this Amy. His eyes noted every dip of her long legs, every spin careening towards the other him and couldn't keep his eyes off of every rise and fall of her chest. When they were done, the audience didn't make a sound. The silence sat heavy on each person, while they ingested what had just happened, what they had just witnessed. Then a collective acceptance rang out. Sheldon knew it wasn't him, but still he felt himself puffing out his chest with pride at every whoop and cheer.
The two of them looked at each other with looks of pure euphoria. Sheldon could only imagine that's what his face would look like after he won the Nobel Prize. But whatever just happened in this universe it seemed to be akin to his Sheldon's main goal. Just as Amy was dipping low to give yet another bow, the crowd watched as one foot slid out behind her and she toppled forward slightly on her face. The other him was quick to reach out to her, and steady her again. The audience laughed a little, but somehow the trip broke the spell they had so artfully wove. The other Sheldon skated her over to the same box and they sat down. As soon as they reentered the floodgates opened to a collective frenzy. It was as if everyone in the crowd decided to talk right at the same time in the room.
Everyone expect him and the Amy whose smile was strained as she was carefully placed on the bench next to his doppelganger. He watched as her smile slowly turned into a grimace. The other him noticed as well and was quick to look at her, worried by her onset countenance.
"I'm so sorry." She murmured, and instantly tried to hide her face in her hands. The other him was quick to kneel before her and grab her hands. He could tell he was about to say something but she continued "They can judge us on that trip it doesn't matter that it was after, it was still part of the performance. It's a collective whole."
"No." The other him stated quite loudly and definitively. "Don't you ever be sorry. You did nothing wrong." She opened her mouth to contradict him but he instead took her face into his hands. "Tonight you were Juliet, Aphrodite, Helen, and the beautiful Carrie Walters. Every single man in that audience fell in love with you tonight. What ever happens, I am proud to call you my Carrie."
Sheldon watched as this Amy blinked in shock. But before she could respond the bald man was yelling at them to sit and listen to their results. Sheldon watched as a collective hush went over the crowd. The other version of him held out his hand, and the Amy, or rather Carrie took it. Their hands were clasped so tightly Sheldon could see both of their knuckles turning white. He watched as the other him sat as close to her as he possibly could, and blushed at their intertwined hands. Right before the results were announced, Sheldon felt a pull, pulling him to yet another world, another him before he could know whether or not this one got his happy ending or not.
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Used this as a reference...