A/N: Chapter time :)

And also times to remind of a few things, like how ASD is very heterogenous and "if you met a person with ASD, you met a person with ASD"; how ASD is a part of the whole that people are; and how Stephen here is his own characters, not just a kid with ASD and how one should not conclude anything from him to any certain kid with ASD; and also, how what the characters say or think represent their own views, and there is no "voice of truth" here.

Thank you so much to all who read, review, follow, favorited. Please, wite up whatever comes to mind when you read, even if it's been a long time after the chapter was published, I love reading your thoughts. Special thanks, as always, to my beta joyteach.

The Big Bang Theory is clearly not mine, otherwise some things obviously would have gone differently. It belongs to Lorre and Prady, what an amazing achievement they've made (12 seasons, that's just crazy!). My 7 OCs, to some extent these Michael and Halley, and all the minor characters that did not appear on TBBT are mine.

On a side note: The next chapter may be a bit late than usual (two weeks from now). Ask me how writing shorter chapters is going... Yeah, Nope. ^^

Chapter 11: Included

February, 2031.

[Stephen.]

The week of February 16th to February 22nd was quite an eventful week.

Sunday was mostly dedicated to the filming of a special new episode of "Fun with Flags: Into the Wool".

In case you are not familiar with "Fun with Flags: Into the Wool" or the entire "Fun with Flags" franchise, I will here provide a brief description. This will not, in any way, serve as a substitute for watching it yourselves, which you should do, by all means, to gain invaluable flag knowledge. That is, unless you are vexillology experts at the top of your field. In that case, I figuratively bow to you in honor.

"Fun with Flags" is a web-based franchise, which consists of a website, an application for small devices, and two series, rife with vexillogical knowledge. The primary series is named "Sheldon Cooper and the Cooper-Fowler Family present Fun with Flags" and includes fascinating episodes, presenting a vast variety of topics. "Fun with Flags: Into the Wool", named cleverly to reference the material originally most frequently used to make flags, delves into the making of flags. The franchise was created and is operated by my family, led by my father, who is the main host of the primary series. However, and partly due to my father's tendency to stab himself while weaving, my mother is the host, instructor and head-weaver of "Into the Wool".

This week's episode depicted the weaving of the flag of Seychelles, which features five colors. It was decided that the process would be shown from beginning to end, no cuts, no speeding up the video, nor any other video trickery. I was in charge of presenting the relevant wool balls to my mother. My father was in charge of filming and inspecting the weaving. My sister was tasked with bringing us water when asked. If she had a task that required her to remain focused the whole four hours, she would be unable to fulfil it. She has a ridiculously short attention span, even though she is already four years and eleven months old. Two weeks and three days ago we were watching a brand-new video from the National New York Central Railroad Museum, that details the components of each and every train, and after an hour, merely a third of the video, Elizabeth (henceforth 'Lizzie') claimed she was bored. Unbelievable.

Aunt Penny was also participating in this episode. As I understand, there has been some exchange of favors, involving late-night laundry and a confidentiality agreement. She was entrusted with holding threads for my mother when needed, and mostly, as my mother said, to "light up the screen with her enchanting presence".

One minute before shooting time, my family members and I were all set in our positions, when Aunt Penny came through the door that joins our backyard to hers, saying, "Alright, let's get it over with."

My father seemed as if he was going to say something to her, but after my mother gave him a look he started counting down to shooting.

"Greetings fellow flag enthusiasts!" my mother said as the camera started recording. "Wool you like to have some fun with us today?" she asked as she raised her right fist to show enthusiasm. These kinds of questions are habitual in television, even though they are rhetorical. "Well you are in luck," she continued, "because today we are going to show you the weaving of the marvelous flag of Seychelles, all the way from a bunch of threads to a full-flag wonder," she, my father and I chuckled at the word-game, "that will turn your heads!"

That was my father's cue to operate the sound effect of cheering people. We waited, smiling but not moving for a second, for him to do so. Aunt Penny just looked at us and at the camera without smiling. Someone should teach her the secrets of show business, like my parents taught me.

"As you can see, today we have with us our recurring special guest, my very own bestie, Penny Hofstadter!" my mother introduced Aunt Penny, who then smiled and waved.

"Sheldon!" my mother whispered, "cheering!"

"I don't think she deser-" he started saying. "Alright, aright," he sighed and turned on the artificial cheers.

A mere 15 minutes after the weaving started, Aunt Penny asked, whispering, "Hey, Ames, when's the break?"

"What break?" my mother whispered back.

"Umm bathroom break, snack break, whatever..?" Penny whispered back.

"We are not taking any breaks, Penny, our viewers are here to watch the full process of weaving a flag, not you emptying half a bag of chips straight into your mouth," my mother whispered through her teeth, smiling.

Aunt Penny smiled and whispered through her teeth as well, "Hey that was just one time! And what's the deal? Just cut it when you edit."

"There's no editing, one take from beginning to end, it's the real deal here," my mother whispered.

"What?!" Aunt Penny said loudly.

They both quickly smiled at the camera for a moment.

Penny then again turned to my mother and whispered through her teeth, "You didn't tell me that! Who does that?!"

"Who forgets to do laundry for a month?!" my mother whispered back.

Penny hushed her, then sighed, leaning back in her chair, "What have I gotten myself into?" she asked, shaking her head.

Two minutes later, Aunt Penny was fast asleep. Falling asleep in the middle of a joint activity in which one is not expected to sleep would be considered disrespectful in many cases. However, Aunt Penny says sleeping is one of her most beloved hobbies. And she is fairly good at it. It may be that she was in fact sharing her hobby with us and our viewers, which could indicate a desire to contribute, however ill expressed. Poor Aunt Penny, she doesn't have a good grasp of what people want to see.

Penny's falling asleep did not cause too much of an interference in the weaving, as my mother found ways to place the threads on and beneath her. Four hours later, the flag was finally finished.

"Aaand that's it folks! There you have the flagtastic flag of Seychelles!" my mother said as she picked up the flag and showed it to the camera.

My father turned on the cheering effect again. He, Lizzie and I joined the frame to wave and smile at the camera.

"Penny! Look alive!" my mother gritted through her smile and poked Aunt Penny with her elbow.

Penny suddenly woke up, "Wh..What? Who? How?" she looked at us and slowly joined the smiling and waving, turning to the camera.

Monday went along much according to routine. I had oatmeal for breakfast and wore my third Monday of the month (winter day) shirt, a long-sleeved blue Jedi t-shirt, with the complementary dark blue slacks and black loafers. I studied ninth grade biology when the rest of the class had their Science class, ninth grade History when they had History, and tenth grade Math when they had Math. To my great dismay, I am required to participate in Gymnastics. I do not understand the need for me to participate in these classes, and neither does my father. It would clearly be more beneficial for me to learn more STEM subjects, so that by the time I graduate from high school I would be able to build myself robotic legs and arms to fit my needs, which I predict will be minimal anyway.

In the last period I was asked to deviate from my routine. My teacher, Ms. Morgan, said she would like me to participate in a Social Studies class, as she would be giving instructions for a group project she would like me to participate in. I said that I chose not to, but she said it was a requirement. I do not understand why she keeps confusing "would like" with "require". Things would be much easier if people used the correct words to describe their requests or orders.

The project was about the current debate in Congress about the developing identity recognition technology, which will allow for quick recognition of a person's identity and the provision of brief details about them. Every group was tasked with presenting the different arguments made about a certain aspect of the technology. I was unhappy. This was a redundant project about a redundant debate, but I was under requirement.

After giving the instructions, Ms. Morgan required us to divide into groups of four to five students. This time she did not use "would like". Good for her.

As the other students approached one another, I approached Ms. Morgan to ask her to assign me to a group. I always find myself without a group and have the teacher assign me to one, so I decided it would be better to skip to the end of this process.

Ms. Morgan, however, was particularly whimsical this day, which I did not appreciate. She turned to the class and said, "I see two students who have not found a group yet,"

That was when I noticed Andrey Kozoriz, the new student from Ukraine who joined our class this year, had also not found a group.

"You guys are old enough to be able to set groups by yourselves. Which group, or groups, will be accepting your friends, Stephen and Andrey?" Ms. Morgan asked.

After some quiet whispering among the students considering accepting us into their groups, Naomi Meier-Caspe spoke for her group, telling Ms. Morgan we could join their group. They were a group of four, but Ms. Morgan approved.

This made the very first time I was invited into a group, other than one that consisted of our family friends, instead of being assigned by a teacher. I felt happy. I told my mother and father about it later that day. My mother was happy, she told me that, and she smiled and said, "Way to go".

My father said, "Of course they would want you in their group, you're far superior to them intellectually." He did not smile. I don't know what he was feeling.

The first half of Tuesday was, blissfully, nothing out of the ordinary. I wore my third Tuesday of the month (cold winter day) Hulk-green sweater, with the complementary black slacks and purple loafers. I had an omelet for breakfast. At school, I studied ninth grade English, History and Literature when the other students studied the same subjects at their level. Brussels sprouts were served at lunch, as every Tuesday. I hate Brussels sprouts, and could smell their terrible odor even before entering the cafeteria, but every terrible experience is nonetheless better when it is a regular event.

At 4 PM I had a group meeting, to work on the project, at Nate Jones' house. I was pleasantly surprised that the group wanted to work together, instead of playing while I did all the work myself, like it had been in previous group projects I was involved in. Instead, they let me search for certain arguments, while Blake, Dean, Naomi and Wendy searched for the rest of what was needed. Andrey was assigned to designing our slides.

I concluded it was both a fruitful and fun meeting. Blake, Dean, Naomi and Wendy had made various comments that were intended as humor and made them laugh. I believe I was partly unsuccessful at grasping the humor, as the comments did not make me laugh, so when they laughed I joined in and acknowledged the comments were humorous. Whenever that happened, they looked at me and then got back to work. Andrey, on the other hand, asked for clarifications various times, due to language difficulties. I gave him explanations, but in some of the times one of the other children said it wasn't what the speaker meant and concluded with "never mind", a phrase that serves to ask others to go back to their previous occupations.

I shared my conclusions with my mother, telling her that I was included in fun team work. I felt happy, and hopeful. While I find interacting with other people challenging, I enjoy the feeling of belonging to a group and being considered a friend.

My mother said she was proud and excited for me. "Friends are awesome! They can teach you how to interact better with others, show you all the movies you've got to know, and give you the courage to embrace your wild side and lose one, or even two cardigans!" she said, "But I suggest you take your time before you buy any of them a painting to celebrate your bond, this may cause tension, because the others might get jealous."

Wednesday would have been a great day, completely uneventful, if it weren't for the utter silliness Riley spoke to me.

As every Wednesday night, we were at the Pasadena Comic Center with our fathers, Sophie, Michael, Uncle Howard and Uncle Raj. It is one of the places that both sell paper comic books and fantasy and sci-fi games and figurines, and have gallery rooms where one can read original comic books from the 20th century, making it one of the best places in the world. It is owned by Stuart, who is a friend of our parents.

After we'd put on our gloves and watched the usual instruction video, explaining the correct way to leaf through the books without damaging them, I walked to "The Flash" area with my father. We finished issues #246 and #247. My father went on to read issue #248, but I decided to join Riley and Michael who were looking at "Justice League" issues from "the satellite years".

Itold Riley and Michael about my time working on the group project. They were quiet after I finished. I assumed they were processing the information.

"My mom said it was great," I said, trying to help them through it, "I have new friends and I am included in a group."

"Umm… yeah, you were..in the group," Riley said, slowly.

"You should be happy for me," I explained.

"Yes, I.. I am happy that you found a group and that they don't take advantage of you and don't laugh at you. It is nice of them. But…" she sighed, "Tivo, it kinda sounds like those kids took you into their group out of pity, you and the other kid, Andrey was it?"

"Okay," I said, "then why did you use the word 'but'? It is supposed to indicate contrast."

"Sweetie, them being with you out of pity is not a good thing, I mean.. It is good in some way, but, it doesn't sound like they really want to be your friends and really include you," she said. She had a sad face.

I was confused by her criticism. "I am part of the group, I am included, you can ask Ms. Morgan! And, I was invited to work with the group and I took part in the activity!" I protested.

"I know, Sweetie, but it's not genuine, you said they were all working together while the two of you were working alone, and that they made jokes that you didn't understand… Did anybody explain to you the things you didn't understand?"

"I explained to Andrey the things he did not understand, and the others pointed out when I was wrong. They used 'never mind', and I understood the phrase for its rhetorical meaning and went back to work. That is team work."

She sighed and kept the sad face.

"Why is your face sad? Stop it with the sad face!" I was getting angry at her illogical behavior.

"Riles, let it go, just let him have this," Michael told her, quietly, apparently forgetting I had Vulcan hearing.

"But it's pity, Michael, it's not real," she retorted.

"What is wrong with pity? Pity is a good moral sentiment, which serves to guide people into helping one another!" I protested.

"Kids, what's going on?" Uncle Leonard asked, as he approached us.

"You are being irrational, I will not take this poppycock!" I declared and turned around to go back to my father's side.

"Tivo…" I heard Riley saying. I could recognize it was her sad tone.

To add to my annoyance, the next day, Thursday, the school held a "Ball Day", meaning every other period I had to argue with another teacher trying to force me to participate in a ball game. While I was informed of it ahead of time, I did not appreciate it and would not participate. If I am to fend spheres off me, I'd rather do it when digitally represented by a disproportionately muscular being, armed with ancient human weapons which would be futile when considered against his own powers.

After school, my work group had another meeting, at Blake Ryan-Scott's house. I tried to get the things Riley said out of my head and focus on my work. I was successful for most of the meeting, until Andrey brought up similar concerns.

It was when Blake, Dean, Naomi and Wendy were laughing loudly, for a long time, at what was apparently a joke. I did not understand what was humorous about it, at all, and decided to confess it to Andrey. I was taught that if I find myself unable to understand certain remarks, I'd better admit it, because that would make others more likely to provide me with explanations. My father says that if I do not understand others' remarks, it is because I am further advanced than they are. But, Aunt Penny told me saying that implies I believe the sun shines from a "very wrong" place, and I certainly do not want to look like a foolish toddler, who does not know the structure of the solar system.

"Is okay, I no understand too," Andrey responded, "Is difficult."

"Understanding jokes?" I asked.

"No what I mean, but yes, too. With no good language, I miss little things," he answered.

"I think you mean nuances. These are hard for me as well, but English is my native language. I miss nuances because I have Autism Spectrum Disorder. It means my brain works differently," I explained.

"Different, but same," Andrey said, smiling.

"I'm sorry, I do not understand."

"You and I both miss nusases, both no understand jokes, both no with group," he explained.

"Yes, I guess we both don't understand the group's jokes," I nodded.

"No, no being in group, no together, alone. Is difficult, no understanding, you no in group," he said. He still had a smile but he was looking down, which might mean he was either sad, nervous or feeling ill.

"I think you mean not included," I responded, "That possibility has been brought to my attention. I do not appreciate that logic," I said. I started feeling sad. Then, thinking about what Andrey had just said, I had an epiphany, "But, if, hypothetically, I accept the conclusion that we both are excluded from this group, then it means we are both included in the figurative social space outside of the group, which is not socially isolated, because we both inhabit it. We are both excluded, hence we are both included! Andrey, that is brilliant reasoning!"

It took Andrey a few seconds to respond. Maybe he was struck by his own brilliance. He then smiled and raised his hand in the way that most times is a request for a 'high-five', "Friend?"

Although I dislike physical touch, I knew that major feats, such as acquiring a friend, sometimes require the hero to make sacrifice. So, I took a breath and gave Andrey a 'high-five', "Friend."