Hello again!

I am back with a new story much sooner than I had expected. It seems I just can't get myself to stop writing.

This one is very loosely inspired by my all-time favorite movie (see story title), which I will explain a few things about in the notes before the next chapter.

But I want to leave a warning, so you know what you'll be getting into, should you choose to keep reading.

While it is (of course) a Shamy love story, it definitely is the most angsty piece I've ever written. The underlying theme is still a hopeful one though and there will of course be light, sometimes maybe even funny moments. But it will also deal with character death, health issues, grief and severe violence.

I do not write extremely graphic violence, simply because I do not enjoy reading or writing that, but still, if you are sensitive to those things, please proceed with caution. I will of course put trigger warnings at the beginning of the chapters, but please, if you ever feel I am not being careful enough, do not hesitate to tell me!

As always, this story is already finished on my computer and this time I already edited most of it, so I expect to be able to keep my usual schedule of posting on Saturday and Wednesday evening (CET).

Most chapters will be named after songs. The songs will not always play a part in the story, sometimes they just fit the chapter. I chose not to mention the performers because many songs have different cover versions and the one I choose for me might not always be everyone else's favorite (I am writing this, should you choose to listen to some of the songs while you read. While I did that when I reread everything, it really isn't necessary, except for one song where I would highly recommend it, but I will put that into the notes before that particular chapter).

Now I hope you will enjoy this first chapter, although it is one of the saddest ones. As always, thank you in advance for reading and of course, I would love to hear what you think of my story!

Warning: This chapter contains a (minor but very important to Sheldon) character death and deals with health issues.

As It Is In Heaven
Chapter 1 - "You'll Never Walk Alone"

Darkness.

Like staring into an abyss. Completely void.

Everything was empty. Meaningless.

Inside and outside of him.

It was all he knew. All he remembered.

And then there was pain.

In his chest. His throat. His arms. Everywhere really.

And then voices.

Now that he thought about it, there had been voices talking to him for a while. When exactly? He did not know. It was like time had no meaning anymore.

But now, very slowly, he seemed to be able to grasp what these voices had been saying to him.

"Sheldon. Sheldon, wake up. Please."

"Sheldon, please don't die. Not like this. We can't lose you now."

"Oh please Lord, let my Shelly wake up again."

"I wish we weren't fighting and I hope we will still get a chance to resolve this. Please, you have to make it, Sheldon."

Right. That was his name. Sheldon.

In a fraction of a second everything started to come back to him.

Sheldon Cooper. Physicist. Genius. One of a kind.

A memory found its way to the surface.

The last thing before everything turned black.

He was standing in his office. In front of a whiteboard. Equations dribbled all over it.

But none of them made sense.

His eyes were starting to twitch.

He ignored the alarm from his phone that reminded him it was lunch time. Just like he always did.

Why bother?

The lunch he had packed for himself wasn't appealing anyway.

It had been an eternity since he had eaten in the cafeteria the last time. It was nothing but a waste of time.

His former friends had long forgotten about him. And he had forgotten about them. He did not need them. He. Did. Not.

They were just holding him back with their talk about families. Wives and kids and pets.

Ridiculous.

So, as always, he was spending his lunchtime in his office. Working on theories he had been stuck on for months.

No, years, if he was being honest.

As so often before, he felt his heart stumbling in his chest.

But he didn't care anymore. He had gotten used to it.

In the beginning, this had scared him a little. But after a short examination his doctor had told him it was probably just stress, so he dismissed it.

How dare his mind make up symptoms that weren't really there? Sheldon Cooper did not have time for that. He was above it.

But on that day, the stumbling in his chest didn't stop.

Instead, the pain came. Sudden and without warning. Excruciating.

Like an anvil on his chest trying to press him down.

Gasping for air, he tried to pull away his shirt from his neck. But it was not his clothes that were the cause of the tightening in his throat.

The throbbing pain in his left arm was his next clue and then, suddenly he found himself on the floor.

Apart from the horrific pain, he felt mostly shocked.

This was all wrong.

He was a young man in his thirties. Late thirties. But still.

He took care of his health.

He did not consume alcohol or other drugs. Not even caffeine.

His body had the perfect amount of body fat for his age.

Why would this be happening to him?

The last thing he wondered, before he lost consciousness, was how long it would take for someone to find him?

Who would even be looking for him? And would they be on time?

Or would he die just as he had lived these long and lonely past two years? Forgotten and alone. Abandoned by everyone.

Was that it? His life wasted, just like that?

Who would even remember him?

A voice right next to him had him snap out of his memory.

"Oh, Lord. Please let him wake up again. Please. Don't take my son."

He knew that voice. Had known it all his life.

There was sniffling. And a sob. She was crying.

And then there was a light touch on his left arm.

And the sound of a song he had known all his life.

"Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur. Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr."

A simple melody really.

But oh, so comfortable.

It had been such a long time since anyone had cared for him like this.

He could feel a tear escaping his right eye, as his lower lip began to tremble.

"Mommy?", he whispered.

His whole body hurt with exhaustion just uttering this one little word.

It took nearly all his strength to open his eyes.

And then he wished he hadn't.

The room was so bright. Almost aggressively with the light shining directly upon him.

Everything looked so clinical. Not surprisingly since he assumed he was indeed in a clinic.

And at last, he heard the noises he must have tuned out before.

The deafening, beeping sound of all kinds of machines that were tied to him.

The rhythmical drops in the infusion attached to his arm.

Even his breathing sounded weird to him until he noticed the nasal cannula providing him with additional oxygen.

The world around him was blurry, but he willed his eyes to focus on the woman sitting on the chair at his bedside.

Her face looked puffy from crying and there seemed to be a lot more wrinkles on her face than when he last saw her. She seemed to have aged at least a decade in the almost nine months since she had visited him last time.

Of course, he had mainly ignored her back then. Her and her pleas for him to come home for Christmas.

Your family misses you, Sheldon.

He had scoffed. Yeah, right. No one missed him. No one ever did.

Except meemaw maybe, but he would just talk to her on the phone. If he would find the time.

So, his mother had left again, worried and probably disappointed. But he didn't allow himself to care about it. Just like he didn't allow himself to care about a lot of things. It was better this way.

As Sheldon kept watching his mother sitting next to him, he saw that her eyes were still closed. She was probably silently praying for him.

"Mom.", he tried to get her attention again. A little louder than before, and again, he felt felt exhausted from forcing himself to speak.

Her eyes shot open.

"Sheldon!", she croaked. "Oh, thank the Lord, you're awake."

The grip on his arm tightened and there were fresh tears falling from her eyes.

He desperately wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know what exactly had happened.

Who had found him and when? What was the exact diagnosis? What procedures had been performed on him?

What was his prognosis?

But he could already feel his eyes getting heavy again and his surroundings were turning into darkness once more.

The next few days passed in a blur.

He slept most of the time.

And when he was awake, there was his mother, feeding him with soup. Singing "Soft Kitty" to him. Praying by his bedside.

He was told there were other people too, wanting to visit him.

Sure. Now that he had almost died, they wanted to come and make amends?

He gave strict instructions on how to deal with those unwanted intruders.

At some point a doctor appeared, giving him some of the information he had been yearning for.

As he suspected, it had been a heart attack. The cause? No one could tell him for sure.

Maybe it was a genetic predisposition.

Maybe it was the lack of exercise combined with his habit of eating take-out food.

The doctor had also suggested emotional stress to be one of the causes. But of course, Sheldon had dismissed this.

He had no stress. His life was just as it should be. Just science. No distractions.

To his dismay, he was told he would have to stay at the hospital for some time. But at least his doctors expected him to make a full recovery, provided he would listen to the advice he was given.

"You will have to take better care of yourself, Doctor Cooper.", the doctor had urged him. "Get your heart checked regularly. As soon as you feel up to it, I recommend light exercise, maybe just walks for a start. Keep a healthy diet. Maybe find a hobby that helps you take the stress out of your life. If possible, take some time off from work. Try to avoid whatever it was that caused your body to act like this. Or next time, you might not be so lucky."

Lucky.

He scoffed inwardly.

There were many words that would describe, how he was feeling right now.

Lucky wasn't one of them.

"You need to be grateful, Shelly.", his mother insisted. "The Lord has granted you a second chance at life. Do not waste it."

He scoffed. Aloud this time.

"Maybe you should come to Texas with me once you're released.", she continued. "At least for a while. You shouldn't be living alone right now. And certainly not in an apartment on the fourth floor without an elevator. Not in your condition."

"Mother, no.", he protested. "I need to return to my work. I am this close to a big discovery, I can feel it."

That was a blatant lie of course. He was no closer to a discovery than he had been years ago. But if he would admit it, even to himself… what would be left of the person he thought he was?

He was too weak to keep arguing anyway but luckily for him, his mother's phone rang in that moment.

"I'm sorry, honey. I really need to take this."

He closed his eyes again then, only hearing bits and pieces of his mother's hushed conversation before he drifted off to sleep again.

And then something strange happened.

He was dreaming. But curiously, he was aware of it.

There was darkness surrounding him. A different kind than the one he knew so well by now.

And there was a beacon of shimmering light. Warm light that seemed comforting. Like it was trying to heal his wounded soul.

But it was fading away. Leaving him. Reluctantly.

There was a song to be heard, coming from that warm, comforting light.

When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark

At the end of the storm
There's a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark

And then the light was gone. And so was the song.

He was standing there in complete darkness.

There was a coldness he had never known before. An icy cold that was gripping at him.

He couldn't quite explain it, but he knew something was wrong. Something was missing.

A warm presence in his life that had always been there. But now it was gone.

He opened his mouth to scream but instead, he just woke up again, but the coldness was still there inside him. He felt more empty than ever before in his life.

His mother seemed to have ended her phone call and was again sitting there next to him. But something about her was different.

She was crying again. Silently.

"Mother? What happened?", he whispered.

She looked at him alarmed.

"Nothing, son. All is well. Do not worry right now. You need all your strength to recover."

He shook his head. The cold feeling inside him was still spreading. He knew it was all connected somehow. He felt panic rising up in his chest.

"Clearly something is wrong. Tell me.", he demanded.

A sob escaped his mother's throat.

"Please Sheldon, don't get upset. Your health is still so fragile. I don't want anything to happen to you. Please let's take a few days and then we can talk about this. I cannot lose you too."

She seemed to cringe, maybe realizing she had said too much.

"Too?" His eyes widened. "Who is it you have lost?"

But he knew the answer even before she took his hand and looked at him seriously.

No. No, please. Not this. Everything but this.

"It's… it's meemaw.", his mother sobbed. "Please Sheldon, stay calm. Please. She's in a better place now."

"Meemaw?", he whispered, tears filling his own eyes now.

"I got the call just before you fell asleep again.", Mary told him and caressed his hand soothingly. "She has been sick for a while, but we did not think it was that serious or we would have told you months ago. And then these past days when you were in the hospital, things escalated. We knew the end was near. But she did not want me to tell you. She was worried, what it might do to you. In your condition…"

"Not meemaw.", he sobbed, barely hearing what his mother was saying.

At once he had trouble breathing and he registered the machine next to his bed beeping even more aggressively than before.

Out of nowhere someone, maybe a doctor, maybe a nurse, appeared. Words were exchanged before he felt a sharp pain in his arm.

"Not meemaw.", he whispered again, but whatever shot the doctor had given him seemed to be working already and he was drifting off once more.

There was the song again. And the light, although much farther away and not as bright anymore.

Walk on through the wind
Walk on through the rain
For your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on
With hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone

It felt like a promise. But he couldn't believe it. Not now. Not after this.

Because now, he wasn't just abandoned by his friends.

He had lost the one person he really could always count on.

No more cookies. No more weekly phone calls.

No more letters helping him through the loneliness.

He was truly deserted now.

He had no idea how long he had been asleep before he reluctantly opened his eyes yet again, a part of him wishing he could just keep them closed forever.

But even though the ache was still there, burning in his soul as well as in his body, he felt calmer now as he looked at his mother again.

"Was she alone?", he managed to ask through the pain. "Since you are here with me? Did meemaw have to die alone?"

"No.", Mary shook her hand vehemently. "No, honey. She wasn't alone in her last days. I promise."

He sighed relieved.

"Good. I am glad, at least my siblings stepped up and kept her company."

It should have been him, really. He wished he could have been there with her. But Missy and Georgie were alright too, he guessed.

But his mother shook her head again.

"Missy was busy with the baby. And Georgie had to go on a business trip."

"Then who was there with her?", he wondered.

"Amy.", Mary stated simply.

"Amy?", he wondered. "Who is Amy?"

"Didn't meemaw ever tell you about Amy?", Mary asked surprised.

"No.", he said simply, expecting his mother to give him more information.

She shook her head. For a moment her grief seemed to be overshadowed by her bewilderment.

"That is strange. Amy has been renting your meemaw's guest room for almost two years and she's been taking care of her when she got sick. You would like her. She teaches science at Medford High."

He shook his head in disbelieve. Why would meemaw rent out a room. And why would a tenant help take care of her?

"They've been getting along so well.", Mary continued as she saw the question on his face. "They had so much in common. I've hardly ever seen your grandmother as happy as when they were sitting outside on the porch together, every day after Amy came home from work. Oh, Sheldon, your meemaw seemed to be decades younger again. I can't believe she never told you about all of this."

Sheldon closed his eyes again. This was a lot to process.

Who was this strange woman who had befriended his precious meemaw?

An image began to form in his head.

A science teacher at Medford High. Probably some stupid person who thought she was smart, like the ones who used to try and teach him.

Maybe an older woman since she had a lot in common with meemaw. And probably not very interesting if meemaw hadn't even mentioned her once in all her letters.

Someone dull. Not worth thinking about.

But somehow, something kept nagging at him.

The hard reality started to sink in again.

His meemaw. Gone.

Just like that.

And the last person who had gotten to spend time with her? A stranger.

A stranger who had lived with her. Invaded the house he considered a second home.

A stranger who had gotten to talk to her. Laugh with her. Eat her food.

Probably gotten to hear the last words she ever had spoken.

He hated this woman already.