Author's Note:

Hello, I'm back! I moved into the new house! Thank you very much for all the well-wishes. It's been a busy time and I still have a ton of boxes to unpack, but I'm very happy with my new place.

So anyway, I think this chapter brings us to about the halfway point. Don't hold me to that, though. Maybe I'll get a sudden burst of inspiration and it will end up longer. Whatever happens, thanks for sticking with me. I hope the wait didn't feel too long and I hope you all enjoy. :)


Chapter Five


Knock knock knock "Amy."

Knock knock knock "Amy."

Knock knock knock "Amy."

"What?" Sheldon almost couldn't hear her soft reply from behind the bathroom door.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh yes! I just found out I won a Nobel Prize I don't remember with a husband I don't remember marrying. I'm a neurobiologist and my own brain isn't even working. I'm fantastic!"

"Not to add onto your list, but you also don't remember that I've gotten better with sarcasm in the past few years," Sheldon said. When she didn't reply to that, he tried something else. "Can I come in?"

"Just give me a minute."

Sheldon glanced back towards the living room, where Leonard and Penny were cleaning up. After it became clear that Amy wasn't coming back, the party quickly broke up. Howard, Bernadette, and Raj left together, calling out apologies as they exited. Sheldon had swallowed down another 'I told you so' and just nodded in acknowledgement, a feat that he, quite frankly, didn't think he was getting enough credit for. Despite recent events, he was still Amy's husband, and their friends really should yield to his wisdom regarding her recovery. But now there were more pressing matters to deal with. Since leaving the hospital, this was the longest period of time he had gone without Amy in his sight, and it was making him anxious. It was time to whip out some of the empathetic techniques he'd been working on.

"You know, you shouldn't feel bad. I did the same thing four years ago when you threw me a birthday party here." When she didn't respond again, he was almost ready to try forcing the door, but suddenly she cracked it open.

"Your birthday party? What date was that again exactly?" she asked, cocking her head with feigned innocence. Sheldon's eyes narrowed.

"Nice try."


That night, Sheldon folded himself up on the teal couch he and Amy never bothered to replace and settled in for sleep.

Deciding on sleeping arrangements had turned into a long debate. Leonard and Penny had offered up his old bedroom/office to Amy. They were in the process of converting it into a nursery, but now had an air mattress set up inside. Sheldon immediately refused, and then Amy protested his speaking for her. Pointing out that an air mattress was impractical for someone with a broken leg didn't lessen her ire, but she did soften when he went on to say that of course he planned on giving up their bed to her anyway. It pained him to think that she thought he wouldn't. Even if she didn't remember it, she should know logically that he had still vowed to care for her.

That should have been the end of it, but the discussion was dragged on further by Leonard and Penny trying to talk him into taking the air mattress. It was out of the question, he couldn't be that far away from Amy. What if she needed him in the middle of the night? What if she fell out of bed? What if someone broke into their apartment and she was left trying to fend off an attacker while already injured? What if she forgot to take her nighttime medication without him there to remind her? Honestly, what were their friends even thinking suggesting something like that?

Sheldon sighed. It had turned into a trying evening, not at all what he wanted for Amy's first day back. He'd had to coax her into eating more of her food, following which they spent an uneasy few hours watching TV before it was finally late enough to think about going to bed. He was exhausted, but sleep was not forthcoming, and he wasn't sure if the discomfort he now felt was caused by the cramped couch or by having someone who was and was not his wife sleeping nearby. He strained his ears trying to hear her from behind the closed bedroom door, but all was silent.

Wasn't this supposed to get easier once she was back home? All he thought about the entire time she was in the hospital was how he couldn't wait to bring her back, but now he didn't know how to handle her, and he hated not knowing. Earlier, when Amy was getting discharged, he had wrapped an arm around her to help her out of bed, and she had startled so violently at the contact, he immediately retreated. The incident replayed over and over in his mind. How was he meant to care for her if he couldn't touch her? Was this what it had been like for her the first several years they were dating?

There was that empathy again. Once he got started, sometimes it was hard to stop. He was tired enough to wonder if maybe Koothrappali had a point with all that karma nonsense after all. It had taken them eight years to get to where they were in their relationship, what if she never remembered and he had to endure eight more to get them back? What if she wanted to break up again like she had once before?

Sheldon wadded up his blanket in his fists. It wouldn't come to that. If another eight years is what it took, he would do it, but it wouldn't come to another break up.


Sheldon didn't know at what point he fell asleep, but when he woke up to screaming, he was certain that all his previous fears were now realized.

He nearly fell off the couch and tripped over the coffee table in his haste to get to the bedroom. Amy screamed again and his blood turned to ice water. She hurt herself. She was being attacked. She was having a reaction to her medications. The hospital was wrong to release her and she was actually dying. He was actually dying. The world was ending.

When he burst through the door and found Amy alone in the bed, thrashing and crying, it took him several moments to calm down enough to realize what was really going on.

In all the time they lived together, Sheldon had never witnessed her having a night terror, although he remembered her mentioning that she had them early on in their friendship. She must have finally grown out of it somewhere along the way, but all the stress and turmoil from the accident brought them back.

"Amy, wake up!"

She cried out and kept struggling against the sheets. He moved closer and tried to shake her awake, but she gnashed her teeth at him.

"Amy, stop it! Wake up!"

His words were drowned out with another scream, and he was starting to feel frantic again. He had to get her to relax before she caused herself further injury. When her flailing brought her on her side, he made a split-second decision to slip into the bed behind her and pull her into a bear hug, pinning her arms against her body. When she tried to kick out, he threw his leg over hers too.

"You're okay, Amy. It's okay."

She continued to resist him, but he held fast, and soon she stilled in his arms. He released a harsh breath into her hair.

"Everything's okay."

"Sheldon?"

"It's okay . . . It's okay . . ."

"Sheldon, I'm awake."

He could feel her trying to pull away, but he couldn't make himself release her. For the first time in weeks, they were so close together. The length of her against the length of him. A few weeks ago he thought he might not feel this ever again. They laid there for a few moments, both panting, both hearts racing. Amy slipped one arm free and her fingers brushed over his forearm before her hand rested on top of his. He shuddered.

"Okay," she breathed out and relaxed into him. And even though he had said it himself five times, he didn't believe it until her heard it from her.