Chapter One

To say that Sheldon Cooper was devastated would be a lie. That would require the ability to feel, and he had lost that. Or maybe he had relinquished it to block the pain and confusion he'd been left with after Amy's declaration.

Time.

Distance.

She needed a break? What did that even mean? Why would you choose to be apart from someone you claimed to love? The only breaking he understood was happening in his chest. No, check that. His heart wasn't broken – it was gone. Ripped out and taken away. And he most certainly did NOT understand!

Or, more precisely, his ability to feel had been stolen by the green-eyed vixen who also stole his heart, his mind and his future. Correction, he still had his mind – more significantly, his memory. That damned eidetic memory that forced him to remember everything. Every mistake. Every missed opportunity. But also every smile, every touch, every kiss. It was torture.

She had also taken away was his ability to think about anything but her and the mess he had made of things. Even though he didn't fully understand what went wrong, it was clearly his fault. Because she was gone. And he was more alone than he'd ever been. Numb and cold and alone.

It had been the longest 12 days, nine hours and 43 minutes of his life. After that fateful Skype session with Amy, he had gone to bed without bothering to change into his pajamas. And that's where he had remained ever since. All of his rituals and routines abandoned. He hadn't shaved or even showered. No going to work, no video games with his friends, no compulsive food schedule. In fact, he rarely ate at all, and when he did, it was whatever Leonard forced on him with a soft voice and pleading eyes. Nothing had a taste anyway, so what did it matter?

Ironically, although he spent all of his time in bed, he was exhausted. Sleep rarely came, and when it did he tried to push it away. The dreams were unbearable. So he spent his time checking his phone and staring at the screen on his laptop that sat silently on his bedside table. He felt like he was waiting for something, but he wasn't sure what that was. Or if he even wanted to know. Amy had made her feelings plain, but he never got a chance to voice his. Their conversation was over before he had a chance to realize what was going on. And then she was gone.

Was he supposed to call her back? Beg her not to leave him? Would she answer if he did? She said she needed time, so he guessed he owed her that much. But he was certain she had no idea what her words had done to him. Amy would never have deliberately left him in such a state. But how could she not know? She was aware of his lack of social skills and his need for closure. So surely she knew that her lack of communication after such a vague goodbye would leave him in piece. The silence thundered in his ears until he wrapped his long fingers around his head in an attempt to hold it together.

How long does a break take, anyway? How much time does she need?

Well, he'd had enough time and way too much distance. And he was definitely ready to break. He climbed out of bed and stumbled on shaky legs to the mirror. What he saw both appalled and embarrassed him. He didn't recognize the man looking back at him. He couldn't stop the tears from forming when he saw the empty, hollow look in his eyes. He was staring at a lost man. A dead man walking. It was the final straw.

Anger started to fight its way to the surface. How dare she do this to him – to them! If that was love, then he was right to avoid it for so long. Didn't she know that she had the power to hurt him like nobody else in any universe? To destroy him? Didn't she care? What a hypocrite! She certainly wasn't giving him the time and attention that she accused him of not providing. She wanted him to fight for her, but where was her fight? Where was all that patience he kept hearing about? Couldn't she see how hard he was trying? How could she just go away? After all they'd been through.

The tears he thought he had run out of began to roll silently down his pale, drawn face. What a fool he was! What a hypocrite! No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't stay mad at Amy. Because deep down he knew he was full of it. She'd been a saint and a martyr for years, waiting for him to give her what she needed. And the tragic thing was that he could have done it. His thoughts and feelings were exactly what she wanted them to be. He just refused to share them with her. At least not the way she wanted. Everything in Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper's life had to be done on his terms. Orderly. Detached. It had always worked for him in the past.

But that was before Amy. Since the day he walked into that coffee shop with Raj and Howard, everything had been different. So why was he still trying to play by the old rules?

It was so much easier in the beginning. Pretending not to care and shutting himself off from the emotional aspects of their relationship only hurt him. And after surviving his childhood, pain was something he could handle. But he wasn't prepared to handle her pain. Especially if he was the cause. That was too much to expect of any man, even a robot. Even a homo novus.

He turned from the mirror, unable to look at the haunted image anymore. When he did, his eyes flickered past the framed picture on his dresser of him and Amy at their impromptu prom. He remembered the day a nervous and shy Amy had given it to him. He realized now that she expected him to reject it, or at least downplay its significance. When he immediately took it to his room, she was overjoyed. It really took so little to make her happy. So why was it so hard for him?

Because he was a selfish bastard.

His mind went back to prom night. He had been terrified, but she had been so patient and understanding. While they may have both wanted the same thing, only one of them was ready to give it. And yet she let him off the hook. In the midst of his panic, she decided to tell him that she loved him. Amazing! When most girlfriends would have been angry, she was loving and selfless. As always.

Which was why he was so lost now. Amy was the strong one. She was the smart one, at least where relationships were concerned. So how was he supposed to handle this by himself? How was he supposed to just go on with his life while she decided their fate?

Dammit! He couldn't stand it anymore. He could not lose her. It was that simple. He would not let her walk away. He wouldn't let her give up on him. And he wasn't going down without a fight!

Another glance in the mirror told him what he had to do. "Pull yourself together, man. You don't even deserve her." He continued to mutter under his breath as he gathered some things and headed for the shower. It was time to get his woman back, and he couldn't do it looking like some train-jumping hobo.

Before he left his room, he grabbed his phone and gave in to the urge that had been plaguing him for days like an itch he was forbidden to scratch. He was sure she didn't want to hear from him, and he wasn't really sure what to say. But they had to start somewhere, so he started at the beginning.

"Hey."

After typing the simple message, he took a deep breath and hit the send button. "Please, Amy," he begged to the silent room. "Please."