As always I own nothing, make no money from this and bow before the genius that is Chuck Lorre, Bill Prady and all of the writers, actors and crew that bring the TBBT to life. Thank you.

Special thanks to Julia's Fantasy who was kind enough to offer to Beta Chapter 1.

The story is the same but I must admit it reads much easier.

Special thanks to Drusilla-Maxima who pointed out my faux pas with Leonard's middle name.

Let us start at the beginning

My name is, Dr. Leonard Leakey Hofstadter. On October 12th, 2017, the great state of Texas will execute me for the murder of, Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper.

While this statement sums up my future in a tight easy to process sound byte, it lacks what we call 'backstory'. In order to provide that I have decided to use the notebooks the good Padre provided me to unburden my soul, to instead record the 37 years that made up my life so far, I shall not record every event in my shortened life. Instead I will record those events in my life that provide sufficient proof of the absurdity of the idea that I had murdered Sheldon.

So let us start at the beginning.

As many of you may know, my Mother, Dr. Beverly Hofstadter, is a world renowned Neurobiologist. What you may not know is that till my birth, she was considered a third rate hack with laughable credentials and ridiculous theories on child rearing and infant psychology. Her later success was due mostly to her willingness to shape her children to fit her theories.

By the age of two, my sister, Eleanor, had already adapted her behavior to make Mother happy. She no longer played with toys or associated with other children. Her days were spent reading a series of books provided by our Mother and having endless tests done on her to measure her 'correct behavior'. When I was brought home, her life got better because Mother abandoned her as a test subject to begin her studies on a fresh subject.

Do not get me wrong, my Mother never hit us, or touched us in any way. She simply created situations and measured our reaction. And if our reactions were 'correct', we received less negative feedback. She wanted everyone to believe her theories, and used her children to prove it. And at times, it was like she was only using us to prove something.

By the age of two, I began to adapt my reactions to the point that Mother stopped testing, Eleanor because she thought that my responses fit her theories better. Then my brother, Michael, was born. I loved him and Eleanor doted on him. We in fact formed a partnership whose sole purpose was to keep Mother away from, Michael. With the help of our housekeeper, Mrs. Loletta, we quickly arranged a daily schedule that minimized the time available for Mother to interact with baby brother. I, on the other hand, was tasked with keeping her busy on those days she was actually home.

That was my life, please Mother, ignore Father, and protect Eleanor and Michael at all costs. There was no joy, just trepidation and fear of what Mother would come up with next.

That all changed when I turned six. Due to the fact that my siblings and I were believed to have genius level IQ's, people began to believe her theories were in fact correct. Book deals were signed, tours were arranged, and offers for visiting Professor were coming in from some very prestigious universities. Mother spent little time at home and we thrived.

Two years later, things got even better when my Uncle Floyd moved back to Mercersberg from Italy. He brought with him, Anna Maria Pasquale Hofstadter, my new Aunt and his six year old son, Michelangelo Rafael Hofstadter. He was named that because his parents first kiss was while standing between Raphael's La Fornarina and a bust of Michelangelo in the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica. That is why we loved spending time at, Uncle Floyd's, because his family was interesting. Exactly the opposite of ours. They were warm, caring and nurturing and still managed to present the world with their own genius level prodigy.

Angelo was remarkable. He had a genius level mind that the standard IQ tests would never be able to quantify. He already spoke and read English and Italian fluently by the time he was four and By the time he was six, he was working on adding French to his list of language skills. In my life, I have tried to explain what it was like being in Angelo's presence but words always failed me. The closest I can come is to paraphrase a line written by one of my favorite authors, Lois McMaster Bujold,

"If looking at a normal person was like seeing a candle in a distant window, then seeing Angelo was like seeing an entire city burning".

Now I know what you are thinking, what does Angelo have to do with the death of, Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper?

Angelo's intellect fed mine, making me want more and to achieve more. I wanted to be at the top, higher than I have ever been in my life. I became addicted to that feeling and did my best to soak it in at every chance. Angelo was aware of this and explained to me that certain individuals in life acted as a catalyst to those around them, bringing out the best and sometimes the worst in people. Those affected by this did not necessarily notice it. Instead they just found them drawn to that individual in various forms of social interactions.

Angelo believed that being away from your catalyst could give you some of the same affects as drug withdrawal. I realized early on that he was correct and that I needed to be around him as much as possible.

This need, combined with anger, and hate, is what led me to make my first enemy.