This was a little painful to write because of personal experience, but I thought it was needed.

Sheldon made Missy jump when his head shot up suddenly.

The twelve year old's were celebrating summer the only way teenagers could; by staying inside and playing video games. Missy wasn't as good as Sheldon, but she could give him a run for his money on Donkey Kong.

They were playing their game, laughing at each other about ill-timed jumps and cursing the bumble bees when Sheldon got very quiet very quickly.

Sheldon had been called a lot of things in his life, quiet was never one of them.

Missy paused the game and stared at Sheldon, waiting for his explanation.

"Dad's home." He whispered. The fear in Missy's eyes mirrored his own.

George Cooper was a good man with a lot of demons. At eighteen he was drafted into the army to go to Vietnam and part of him stayed there when he left. Every once in awhile the memories would get to him, what Sheldon discovered was called Post-traumatic stress disorder when he was five, and he would chase the memories away with whiskey or vodka. Rum would be used in a pinch if no other hard liquor was available.

"What kinda mood he in?" Missy asked him as quietly as she could. Sheldon's father and his older brother thought that people were humoring him when they talked about his gift, but the women in his family always believed him.

Sheldon closed his eyes and pictured the bubble that surrounded him. He 'poked' a small hole, about the size of a quarter, into it and focused his energy on their father.

What Sheldon felt made him physically recoil back.

Survivor's guilt because his best friend died in his arms while he survived. Anger that nothing he did would make the memories go away. Frustration that his wife turned from a free spirit into a Jesus-loving freak because she couldn't handle the man he had become. Pride turned to disappointment that his oldest son went from the apple of his eye to a weed smoking hippie. Regret that his daughter will only be just a pretty face. The anger caught him off guard.

Anger was sudden as he spotted a picture of Sheldon holding his first blue ribbon in science. Anger that his children will never be what he wanted. Most of the anger was directed at Sheldon though. Smart would have been ok, smart could have been guided and dealt with. Genius on the other hand, genius was something that he couldn't control. Genius set him apart, made him better. Better than his own father. He'd be given opportunities that George would never have. He would surpass his father in everything.

Sheldon pulled himself back into his own headspace and looked at Missy.

"Not good sis. Not good at all. He's drunk off his rocker, suffering from a bout of survivor's guilt because of uncle Jimmy, and he's angry. Really angry." He said in a far away voice. Urgently he added, "You need to get out of here."

"What?" Missy was confused.

Sheldon sighed and patiently explained, "Dad is in a mood. A bad one, and he's looking for a target. Hide."

Missy stared at him in concern, "What about you? You gonna hide?"

Sheldon replied, "No. He needs to take it out on someone or it will fester and burn in him." And Missy was his favorite target because she never fought back.

Missy shook her head violently, "No. I'm not gonna hide unless you do."

His father was in the kitchen, making what would have to be at least his tenth Jack and Coke. Then he would go into the living room. Sheldon knew that he was looking for either Missy or himself. Once Junior had reached his height and learned to fight back their father stayed away from him. One of them were gonna pay. They were gonna pay the price for every single demon that was running loose in George's head. They were gonna suffer for George's life not giving him what a war veteran deserved. They were gonna leave that room with marks today and apology money tomorrow.

It wouldn't be the first time him and his daddy got into a screaming match because try as hard as he could, Sheldon couldn't fight his father's aura when he was like that. Then his father's feelings and Sheldon's feelings would bleed into each other and the rage would last until his father threw the first punch. Shock and self-hatred would pull them both out of it and it would never be discussed again.

Sheldon was twelve, he had told lies before. He told his mother he believed in Jesus, he told his brother that he didn't believe in magic, he told his father that he loved and respected him. He told lies big and small, but he had never lied to his twin. As far as he knew his twin had never lied to him.

There's a first time for everything.

"Alright, I'll hide. Now go!" He whispered to her harshly, turning to run upstairs. He waited until Missy ran outside and the front door slammed shut before he headed back out to the living room. Then he sat down on the couch, closed his eyes, and took a deep steadying sigh. Missy always hid and George always found her. It was best for her if he ran interception. He couldn't tolerate it when Missy got hit. Her aura gave a little crack each time, like it was dieing.

He tried not to think about how much it would hurt. He tried not to be mad at Missy for running, even though Sheldon told her to. He refused to think about how he thought that he deserved to be yelled at and beat, his genius had destroyed what remained of his father's sanity.

Now all he had to do was wait. Judging by the thumps and bumps coming from the hallway, Missy left just in time.