FIRST, A FEW DISLAIMERS…
As much as I love them, all characters included in this story DO NOT belong to me and were created by the brilliant minds of Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady. I repeat: I DO NOT own these characters. I'm honestly a huge fan of the show and simply want to express this through my creative energy.
WARNING:- THIS STORY REVOLVES AROUND SOME UNSETTLING TOPICS. If you think you would be affected by references to death, depression and mental illness please DO NOT READ ON. I have rated this story 'M' for a reason, and I genuinely would never want to cause any real harm to anyone.
Now that's all said, if you decide to read on I hope you enjoy! This story starts as canon, but a few months has elapsed from where the show ended in season 12. Prepare for tears…
Any reviews would be much appreciated ?
Chapter 1 – The Zither Inanimation
If his life were a movie, Sheldon's picture had just been paused. The only part of him that still moved was his heart, which was now hammering against his chest. He could only stare, unblinking, at the doctor in front of him as she put her hand on his shoulder and tried to be consoling.
"I'm so sorry Dr. Cooper."
Sheldon considered this to be an empty sentimental gesture. The intense three-hour operation aside, this doctor had no relationship with his wife and thus had no emotional ties to be severed. Whilst he was incapacitated with grief, she would not experience any lasting discomfort. At this thought, Sheldon saw red.
His eyes burned into the back of Dr. Miller's scrubs as she turned to walk away. It wasn't until she had retreated a sizable distance down the corridor that Sheldon felt his body begin to move again. Unfortunately, he quickly realised he was too weak to act upon his rage. His shaking hand reached out for something with which to steady himself and found the smooth plastic of the chair behind him. Its cold, unyielding structure emitted a high-pitched squeak as Sheldon collapsed onto it gratefully, fixing his eyes downward in an attempt to avoid any further human interaction. Just as he wished, Sheldon went unnoticed by the building's current populace and was left alone as he drowned in his thoughts.
Usually unwavering in its reservation for the complexities of theoretical physics, the beautiful mind of Dr. Sheldon Cooper failed to provide any comfort to its owner. Today his eidetic memory was a curse. Images flashed across his consciousness in fits and spurts; the explosive spark as the gun was triggered, people running, Amy's hand being ripped from his own as she fell to the floor. The blood. Every sight, smell and sound consumed him.
Unanswerable questions buzzed and multiplied in his head, the frenzy overloading his neocortex. Unused to emotion of this intensity, Sheldon's body responded in kind; his breathing became erratic and shallow, his tongue stuck to the back of his throat, and no amount of blinking alleviated the sting behind his eyes. He felt like an astronaut dressed in fibreglass, and he was about to shatter.
Sheldon was at breaking point when a head of blonde hair filled his paracentral vision. Penny gingerly put a hand over Sheldon's knee and met his gaze.
"Sweetie?"
Sheldon's response was barely audible; "She's dead, Penny."
The words lingered between them, amongst the distant echo of machines and voices. As they registered, Sheldon leant forward, buried his head in his hands and bawled.
Considering the circumstances Penny was expecting Sheldon's behaviour to be especially problematic when bringing him home. However, he was silent for the duration of the car ride and simply followed Penny's direction as she settled him into bed. In fact, he didn't cause any trouble until she started her rendition of "Soft Kitty", when he complained because, unlike Amy, she couldn't play a zither. Once content that Sheldon was safe, Penny crossed the hall.
The atmosphere in apartment 4a was highly strung when Penny entered. Although her friends were sitting in their usual places, no one was talking and they all appeared to be shifting awkwardly. Penny immediately sought her husband's arms in an effort to protect herself from the stares and it wasn't long before she succumbed to her own emotions. Between sobs she murmured into Leonard's shoulder.
"I just can't believe she's gone, you know? Like, I spoke to her this morning and now - "
Raj sighed. "Man, this is rough. I can't imagine what Sheldon's going through. Say what you want about his social skills, but he loved her."
Mention of Sheldon roused Penny from her reverie. She lifted her head slightly so she could face the rest of the group. "Oh my God, you guys should have seen him at the hospital. Do you think we should call Mary?"
For Leonard, this was already a foregone conclusion, "Yeah, I think we're gonna need her."
Raj, Howard and Bernadette took that as their cue to leave since none of them were currently in a fit state to deal with the practicalities of losing their friend. In the vain hope that some wine may temporarily numb them to their grief, they decided to find the closest bar and raise a toast to the woman they all missed.
As the rest of the group were descending the stairs a few moments later, a warm Southern accent resounded through the apartment, bringing with it a welcome wave of comfort that emanated from the sleek black handset. "Leonard, well this is a surprise. How y'all doin'?"
"Hi Mrs. Cooper. Actually, things aren't so great right now. That's why I'm calling. Would you be able to get over here within the next few days?"
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. What's going on?"
"I don't know how else to tell you this, so I'm just going to come out with it. It's Amy. She ..erm... died earlier this afternoon."
There was an audible gasp from the other end of the line, "Oh dear Lord! What happened?"
"Well, they were having lunch and this crazy guy went and just shot up the restaurant. I think they were trying to get away, but Amy got hit. Sheldon went with her in the ambulance, but she didn't make it. Look, I think this is gonna hit him hard. You know what he's like with changes, and this is gonna be a huge one for him. As much as he hates to admit it, he loved her."
Mary Cooper couldn't disagree. Her son had always exhibited a propensity for the dramatic whenever things deviated from the norm. Whilst his stubbornness had garnered a lot of opportunities for him, it had also hindered any personal relationships until Amy came along. Change would forever be an unnatural state for Sheldon, but he was at least no longer under any illusions about his quirks. Unfortunately, this wouldn't help him in his current predicament.
"And how's my baby holding up?"
"It's difficult to tell; Penny got him into bed literally the minute they got back from the hospital. I guess we'll know more tomorrow."
"Alright, well if it's gonna be anythin' like his daddy's death then let me tell you there's a long road to hoe. But don't you worry, I'll be there as soon as I can."
During another telephone call nearly twenty-five years ago, Mary had broken the news of her husband's death to her youngest son. Distance had initially prevented her from providing Sheldon with a comforting arm, and this was something she had agonised over ever since. He had arrived on the doorstep, his slicked, black hair and blazer's metal buttons glinting in the punishing Texas sun. The sole symptom of his inner turmoil was his red, puffy eyes. Being both young and gifted, sympathy had come to Sheldon in abundance, but none of it had come from his mother. Her maternal instincts had been overshadowed by her grief. Perhaps Leonard's call had provided an opportunity to right this wrong. If so, God would not regret it.
"Thanks Mary"
"Oh, lamb chop you don't have to thank me. Now you keep an eye on my boy 'til I get there, you hear?"
"Yes ma'am"
True to her word, Mary Cooper arrived the next afternoon armed with prayer and ingredients for peach cobbler. Unfortunately, despite this, her persistent knocks went unanswered. She tried for over five minutes before Leonard finally took pity on her and provided the spare key. When the door eventually opened, they were greeted with a shocking sight; amongst other things, an assortment of paper, half-empty food packets and bundles of wool littered the room. It seemed that the only thing missing from this swirling vortex of entropy was Sheldon himself.
"Shelly?"
Upon hearing his name, the object of their concern stumbled through the bedroom door, his arms laden with a kaleidoscope of knitwear. He immediately turned on his closest friend.
"Really? You called my mother?"
Leonard sighed. "Come on buddy, let us help you."
"No, this isn't help. You've condemned me to mindless religious lectures. I don't want to hear how this is all part of God's plan and that he works in mysterious ways. Irrational platitudes won't bring her back."
"You watch your mouth Shelley. Your wife may be with God now, but I will set you straight right here."
"Mother, I don't want to hear it, especially not right now. Please just go."
"I ain't goin' anywhere, and God is in my heart so if I'm here then so is he."
"If only he'd been in the operating room, perhaps he could have saved you the trip." Sheldon draped his armful of garments across the back of the couch.
"Well, seein' as we're here, do ya wanna tell me whatcha doin' with all this?" Each step Mary took towards her son was fraught with danger as she tried to avoid the plethora of strewn Neurobiology textbooks, sewing needles and even an empty bottle of Romulan ale amid the chaos on the floor.
"I'm divesting the apartment of Amy's things. She's not exactly going to need any of it now."
Leonard's black, bushy eyebrows descended behind the rims of his glasses, and threatened to obscure his eyes. "Sheldon, how long have you been doing this?"
"What time is it?"
"Just after three-thirty."
"Then fourteen hours."
This news was like a red rag to a bull, and Mary Cooper leaped at the opportunity to commence her mission with a positively evangelical fervour. "Fourteen hours? Baby, we need to get you to bed."
No sooner had she clicked her fingers and pointed in the direction of the bedroom, than Sheldon solemnly shuffled towards it, retracing his previous path through the debris. Eventually, with some further coercion, he was once again horizontal.
When she re-emerged in the apartment's main living space, Mrs. Cooper was a woman possessed. What she didn't clean wasn't worth touching. Driven by maternal instinct and divine encouragement, she organised and bagged the entire contents of the floor. Anything that was potentially useful, however, was hastily directed to her suitcase. Based on her past encounters with her late daughter-in-law, she considered Amy to be a resourceful and practical woman, and Mary firmly believed that she would condone her actions. Despite this justification, Mary's guilt moved her to seek forgiveness from her God before she covered herself with a quilted blanket and made herself comfortable on her son's couch.
A sharp shriek pierced through the dawn chorus of running showers and boiling kettles at 2311 Los Robles Avenue. The proximity of the sound to Mary meant that she was jerked, gasping and wide-eyed, into the new day. It seemed that yesterday's good deeds had not been appreciated.
From that moment, she was trusted with nothing more taxing than making cups of tea and opening the steady trickle of condolence cards Sheldon received. While her son talked to lawyers, pathologists and other Cal Tech scientists, she found herself relegated to the kitchen. Mealtimes became the conversational oasis during the drought of each day, and Mary deliberately incited this with her personal brand of culinary nirvana.
Aroma of fried chicken dispersed through the apartment late one afternoon causing Sheldon's mouth to water, when a knock on the door grabbed his attention. A parcel, small, brown and innocent of any excess embellishment, was handed to him by a stocky, bald man in the hall. On his return to the kitchen island, he happened to glance at the white label adorning the cardboard and inhaled sharply. It was addressed to Amy.
Curiosity overwhelmed Sheldon, and he lacerated the light cuboid structure with surgical precision. Concealing the action with his torso, Sheldon removed the contents. Four pure white cotton babygros revealed themselves, all of them sized for a newborn.