Pre-Author's Note: 2 weeks and 5 days until school dance.
Chapter 8: Sunny Sunday – Five years before today.
Sheldon was still sitting in the hospital bed, only looking out the window into the nothingness that haunted him since birth. He barely heard the creak of the door that indicated that someone was entering his room. He already knew who it was – and he did NOT want to talk to her. Why should he?
Her reflection off of the glass window caused a slight pain 'twing' in his head. He was positive she had set off his first attack. His first seizure. And, God, he hated her for it. Ever since she had left she had caused Sheldon so much stress and pain. Then, as soon as he is finally becoming happy again, she takes it away. SHE TOOK HIS HAPPINESS AWAY! AGAIN!
"I'm sorry," Jenny began, "I'm so very sorry. I saw your pulse increase as we passed. Are you angry?" He didn't need to reply. "They told me what was wrong."
"Nothing is wrong," Sheldon stated simply, upset that his first words to her were a lie.
"They said they couldn't find the problem. And that -"
"See!? I told you – no problems – now go away! You hate me!" There was a long awkward silence. Sheldon just wanted the conversation over with. Why couldn't she just LEAVE?
"I don't hate you Sheldon. I just needed some space," Jenny said in defense, but she knew it was the sorriest reason for leaving a person such as Sheldon.
Sheldon's head turned, Jenny swore the Grim Reaper was looking through his eyes and through her. Trying to burn whatever it was that Jenny was made up of. "Well, the hallway has plenty of space. You and Brad," the words weren't spat, but elongated to stress the hatred in each syllable, "can go use it all you effin' want!" She could tell by his body language that he couldn't possibly mean a word of what he had said, but he sure wanted to. His fists gripped the white hospital sheets until his fists were just as pale, his head was lowered slightly and his eyes had risen to meet hers causing a dark glare. The sheets barely gave away any impression that there was a body underneath. Was Sheldon really that underweight? How could she have not noticed before?
"Please go," it wasn't a murmur, but it didn't quite reach a whisper – just loud enough to hear.
"Please, just leave me alone – you hurt me." Jenny had curved her arms around her waist in guilt. She couldn't just let them hang there; it would be much too uncomfortable. A nurse entered the room. "Honey," she began…
"Please…" A hand made its way to Sheldon's forehead, embarrassed that she was still trying to be polite. The tiny whimper stopped the nurse and she held out a hand to pat the teen's shoulder. She felt along the edge and smoothed the rough skin. Suddenly the older 15 year old looked no more that 10 and his sunken in eyes were void of emotion causing a change in attitude. "It's nothing, please go…" Jenny never had heard such a request in her life. If it would help Sheldon for her to leave – she should go.
The nurse turned towards Jenny, "Honey, you probably should leave – and will you send in the boy's grandmother? This is a family matter." Jenny left at her first chance. She despised seeing Sheldon like this.
Go away! You hate me!
You hurt me.
You hurt me.
You hate me.
Her eyes closed tight at the tiny words Sheldon had used – and how much pain they caused her in return. She looked down the hallway and saw a dog, being led by a very tall, handsome, young man. She froze. The man turned and entered Sheldon's room, followed by Sheldon's informed grandmother. She watched through the glass at how they talked. She could have heard them if she wanted to. But she stopped herself short by reminding herself that sometimes your listening will get you into trouble. Jenny sat there with Brad, with Brit, in the hall, and no one else. "I just truly don't understand." Brit sounded broken hearted. Jenny and Brad could not help but look at the crushed Crust. So used to the hard exterior – no ont could have expected the soft inner core.
The man who had walked into the room was leaving – the dog stayed. Immediately Brit stood up – alert. "Service dog! He was just given a service dog. What's wrong with him!?" It didn't come out as a question, only panic shredded her words to pieces. The man turned around and said simply, "A service dog for now. He may not need the dog later. Maybe. I am not the one to be telling you what is wrong with him. That is his job. You may go in now, if you'd like. He's been asking to see a young pretty girl, Brit, isn't it?"
"Brit?" She asked quickly.
"Yes, a girl called Brit." Jenny could not help the horrible resemblance between Brit and Brat – Sheldon chose Brit the Brat over HER? When did this happen? She said nothing, fighting with her robotic conscience.
Brit jumped and ran into the room. "Sheldon! Are you alright? Will you be alright? Why the dog? Why the -." Sheldon wasn't listening. He didn't want to. He was once again fixated on the nothingness that haunted the glass window – and in the corner of the window sat the reflection of his love. Yeah, he loved her. Maybe not so much Jenny anymore… Jenny wasn't what he had hoped she would be. He drifted into a memory from long ago – the day Jenny and Sheldon had first met.
"OH MOM! Thank jobs it's you! Who needs saving! Anything! I'll do anything!" Jenny was crying into a camera that held Nora Wakeman's message.
"It's the – oh what's this?" Nora stopped short to inspect me. She made sure everything was in ship-shape. I was so happy when she approved! I felt excepted. I felt like I belonged to something – or someone… even though Jenny was my first love, right? OK, maybe it was more of a Romeo and Juliet love. The fact of being in love with the thought of love, I wasn't truly falling for XJ-9.
"No, no! What is it!" I could tell she did not want to spend another minute with me. I smiled stupidly.
"It's just the lonely hearts club-gang. Nothing big. In fact if you have other plans…"
"Good Bye, Mother." The words were spat so harshly, I felt insulted. Should I have been?
"Well, I gotta go, something WAAAAY over there; crime in progress, that kind of thing." She burst through the roof of the school and left me standing there – alone – just like she never had seen me.
"Wow!" I said aloud, stupid in my romance as a piece of the ceiling slammed into my skull."What a girl!"
What I that big of a MORON? Or is it just me?
Brit hadn't done that. She had helped him – that's how they had met. She deserved to know what was wrong, and he knew that. He turned to face her. Scared. Mortified. Embarrassed.
"Brit, can I tell you something… something really, really secret?" He looked like he was pleading – no – begging for some sort of understanding. She nodded. Tears wanted to spring from his eyes. Did he want the pity? Did he want her to feel sorry for him? "Brit, please…" Brit hesitated, than walked closer; her eyes flickering to Sheldon's grandmother who sat at the other end of the bed. "Of course Sheldon, what is it?" That didn't sound right. That was the old Brit – snappy, manipulative, sexy – all in one. "I'm sorry," she began again.
"Grandma, can you please leave? Please?" His grandmother gave Brit a skeptical look and left the room as fast as she could. Her stout figure wobbling across the room, her white hair turning fuzzy as she walked further away, it seemed as if she already knew what was coming. Brit turned to face Sheldon, hoping for the best.
"Brit, I can't go to the dance." He sounded sober and foreign...
"-What? Why?" Brit was in disbelief.
"Brit, I can't! I just can't! See the dog? DO YOU ACTUALLY SEE THE DOG?" He sounded like Sheldon here, the old Sheldon – helpless – when did Sheldon get so fragile?
Brit looked down at the dog, it was a golden retriever who sat right next to Sheldon's bed, waging his tail happily. "I have to go a seminar thing to learn how to get along with him," Sheldon said 'as-a-matter-of-factly'. "I don't understand, you can bring the dog along, or maybe we can just go somewhere else. Dinner, maybe?" She was trying so hard to make ends meet. "Just tell me why, that' all." She reached out, brushing his shining sweaty hair out of his eyes. He was going to need a shower when they got home.
"I CAN'T!" When did Sheldon get so hurt?
"Honestly, Sheldon." She pulled back now, returning into a disappointed position. "There must be something. Why can't you tell me? We're going out remember?" Yeah right, like she was going to start to look trust worthy now. After she said her turn, there was an awkward silence. She hesitantly sat back down into the chair. Hoping that maybe he would give in and tell her why he couldn't say anything – why there wasn't an explanation – she waited. And waited. When did Sheldon become so independent? So broken?
"Please…" only a tiny whisper behind the broken glass that lay in bed in the form of a human. When did it all start? When did it happen?
"Sheldon," she began cautiously, "I'll be here, when you need me." Now that got his attention. He turned his head and looked strait into Brit's eyes. Brit, shocked, could only stare back. Her eyes locked on the brown eyes, giving a shine that lit the room much too bright. Breathless, she waited for him to look away – to give her back her freedom. Brit continued to sit in the awkward space where the air seemed to still and the light seemed limited. The quiet lasted so long. So long, lasted that silence that drove Brit crazed.
"I like you," a small whisper came from the bed, traveling into Brit's strained ear.
Brit's eyes could only widen, she couldn't believe it. Had he just said the words she had been hoping she could hear him say? Was this a joke? "Sheldon," she began, but was stopped by Sheldon's hand. A smile was curved on the boy's face – cheerful and full of life. How could one be so dull one moment and teeming with life in the next? He continued to let his hand travel to her, he cupped her face and let himself feel the cool-warmth of her skin, the silky-roughness, the lights filled with darks.
The touch startled her, she gasped, jumping in her seat. "Nah, I said like, not love. Don't get all giddy on me." Brit smiled at Sheldon's corrections – that was the old Sheldon alright. She lifted a warm hand to feel the cold one that cupped her cheek. "I like you, too." Her lips curved upwards – it wasn't a smile, though. She couldn't smile right now, not now. "Brit," his voice sounded happy – she looked up to meet his gaze and found herself caught in the hypnotic beauty of his eyes.
"Yes," she answered.
"What if I were to tell you that I'm handicapped?" He sure sounded as if he were making a joke of something.
"I don't know. I guess I'd have to take care of you then – see?" She smiled into Sheldon's palm, kissing it with most care.
"What if I were to tell you that I might have to make trips to the hospital – lots of times? Like, if things got really bad and you could handle it kind of things…"
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" Brit was confident already.
"I have SARS, the dog is gonna track how many people I infect," he looked damn serious. Brit moved away slightly. Sheldon burst into tears of laughter.
He could not be serious any longer with the 'SARS news'. Of course, it was a joke, but Brit didn't know that. "Well, Sheldon-dear, that was not very kind of you." Brit's polite-nasty self was creeping back, but Sheldon did not take notice. "Sorry." Sheldon tried to lighten the situation. "Well, let's say we are going to this 'dance', what are you going to wear?" Brit smiled, if anything, she loved talking about clothes. "That would be for me to know and you to find out." She smiled and took his hand into hers, examining it with care. After a 'thorough check-up' she looked up at him with a playful tune in her eyes.
"I don't want to wait. Why can't you tell me now?"
"No, where would the fun be in that?"
"Actually seeing it…" A smile plastered Sheldon's face.
"Where would the fun be, if I had to wait to know what's wrong with you, eh?"
His face grew cold. "Well, if you put it that way I guess we shouldn't even be 'going out' because otherwise you'd be crushed. I wouldn't wan to hurt you." Brit couldn't tell whether Sheldon was teasing, or trying to help. "Hurt," Brit asked sincerely, "you won't hurt me." But Sheldon was shaking his head. "Did you know that I used to write – before I took to technological advancement?" Brit shook her head no.
"What did you write about?" Brit asked, she wasn't curious, just thought that he probably had something he wanted to get off his chest.
"I used to do very well in English – not that I don't now – but I used to write so well, so nicely, my stories took people to other worlds, other times. My classmates would ask for sequels and things like that. I can't tell you how wonderful it was being up on top." Brit's eyes widened, Sheldon Lee was a burnout?!
"So why did you stop? You could have been a great writer?" But Sheldon was shaking his head very slowly, trying to keep back something he was letting loose. "No, I couldn't have been. Middle School was one thing. High School is another. " He paused. "I was never able to recreate anything I had begun." Brit leaned in, noticing Sheldon's shivering body. "Would you like another sheet?" She whispered close to his ear, but he shook his head lightly and scolded her for caring too much. "Well, what happened? How come you didn't continue?"
"I guess…I guess…would you like to hear a story, Brit?" Brit sat in stationary, then nodded quickly, wanting to catch up with the conversation. Sheldon wasn't smiling as he nodded back.
"Once upon a time, there was a boy. He was around – What year is it? 2007? Has it been that long? – He was around 10 years old. He had a mom and a dad, and was very happy. His parents were so nice. The mom was a technical genius! She came up with so many cool contraptions, but the boy's father was very mean. He joked about everything the boy was and who he could be. The mom encouraged everything the boy wanted to do, so when the boy started writing she was thrilled. But the dad was very nasty. He – he told the boy he had everything WRONG. That everything the boy was doing was BAD. 'Writing,' he said with a tint of ice in his voice, 'a good way to waste time. You are going to be raised for what I do, for what is important.'
But the boy didn't like business and all that junk; he wanted to write stories, or be like his mother and create cool things. So, for 2 years he put up with his family and the different views they gave him. Until one sunny day the boy and his mom were driving down the road. It was a highway that led to downtown. People were driving faster than they should have been. Can you believe how fast those people were going? 80 miles per hour where the limit was 40! I swear getting into Chicago can be a deathtrap if you don't you your way around. Well, we didn't know our way around. A person went to turn into our lane and crashed into the back of our car – the car. I said the car. This has nothing to do with me." He looked confused. "Uh, the car, it – the car… The car swerved around and crashed back into the other car. It was so scary the boy cried out, but his cries were covered by the loud screeching sound of the cars bumping together. I – he – they – she…I don't really know what happened. But then the boy was in the hospital. He wanted – so bad – to see his mo-." Sheldon began to let tears flow down his eyes. They couldn't be stopped as they stained the sides of his cheeks. "He wanted to see his mom so bad, but they said she was sleeping. She would be asleep for a very, very long time. Then they told the boy that there was something wrong with him. Something was very, very wrong with his head, and the need to talk to the boy's father. But he was gone. He left forever. He wanted nothing to do with me – him. So that's when the boy's grandmother came in. She took care of him and helped him clean up after the messes he made. He didn't mean to make them, but he didn't know what else he could do."
"Sheldon," Brit interrupted.
"He just wanted to be good. And soon everything went away, it went away for the longest time. Everything seemed to go back to normal."
"Sheldon…" Her voice was distant and couldn't reach his foreign ears.
"Until -" He stopped. "It came back again, and he didn't know why…" Brit was narrowing her eyes. Was he ever going to listen?
"Are you epileptic, Sheldon?" Sheldon looked up at his girlfriend. "No." Brit let go of his hands and put hers around his face, holding his gaze to hers. "It's going to be alright. Sheldon, it will be alright." She then leaned down and captured his lips with hers. "Would you like to just continue your story," she asked.
"Yes. So the boy was upset because of this new disability he had. He didn't know what to do about it. Until it stopped three years later, around the time High School started. So they decided to take the dog away and keep the dog as a pet. Until this boy met a girl who was made completely of metal. A robot girl, he thought she was the most beautiful and wonderful thing that had ever happened to him…" Brit gridded her teeth in jealously at the new twist Sheldon's story took. For the rest of the story, she adjusted her gaze towards the window, watching the clouds move across the sky. Watching as time passed, watching as he continued on with the 'story', watching as the little boy in the bed wore away little to nothing. Watching, watching, watching…the clouds never stopped.
Author's Note: Sorry, there was a lot of talking in this one. Not a lot of detail, which is more my thing. And yes, Sheldon has gotton himself into quite a pickle. A big pickle.
Sheldon and the Giant Pickle! XD Anyways, things are going to get better. Maybe. Maybe they'll get worse. OH MY! I really am just winging this in my free time so don't expect much from me. R+R or I'll haunt you in your sleep. GASP!
