"Mah' arm's are gettin' awful sticky. I wish tuh apply more gauze." Sheldon said sharply, sitting up again against his bed. Amy quickly scurried over the bed, pulling his small white box out of her cardigan. She removed the damp bandages from his arms and put them on the bed, where Bernadette recoiled a little. She wrapped thick swatches around Sheldon's wrists, carefully and deliberately. Amy only looked at Sheldon, her brown eyes boring into his blue ones with such intenisty it was startling. Everyone was silent as they watched Amy finish her work and slink back over the bed. Bernadette caught her by the arm and stopped her, pulling her back to sit next with her on the bed. Amy did so, adjusting her glasses and listening to the silence.

It was Leonard who finally spoke. He had pulled Penny to his side and her hair was draped in blonde tendrils all over his lap. He closed his eyes as he talked.

"They...they really broke you, didn't they?" He whispered weakly. Sheldon nodded curtly. Leonard fell back, his mind spinning. All these years he'd whined and bitched and cried about his own childhood, and Sheldon's had been so, so much worse...

Penny wiped her wet eyes and tried to lifted her head from Leonard's lap.

"But Sheldon...you can't say you really stayed after that? Did you?"

Sheldon lifted his chin, his eyes cold and aloof.

"Penny, I wus fourteen. The only uther place I ha' wus my Mee-Maw's." He shut his eyes and the faintest flicker of a smile played on his lips. Everyone in the room seemed to straighten up at this. Amy leaned foreword on the bed.

"I assume the playful smirk you're displaying is showing some happy thought or memory." She said, her voice betraying the slightest glimmer of hope. Sheldon shrugged, pulling his long legs underneath him.

"I love my Mee-Maw." He said simply.

March 20th 1997

"Moonpie, you cain't keep runnin' 'way like this." Mae Rector said, placing a grilled cheese sanwhich in front of her fifteen year old grandson. Sheldon just sniffed and looked out the kitchen window, into the dark night sky. The clock on the stove read 2:23 A.M. Sheldon crossed his lanky arms.

"I'm gonna be a doctir next yeyar. I can do whaever I please."

Mae smirked.

"Moonpie, you migh' be smart, but you ain't nothin' but a boy" She reached to stroke Sheldon's hair. He stiffened. She ignored his discomfort and petted his head anyway.

"And Shelly, you gotta get used tuh people touchin' you. Exspecially if you wanna girlfriend someday..."

Sheldon jerked his head up in alarm.

"A...a girlfriend?" He squeaked, his usually cool demeanor shaken. "Yuh mean...like someone tuh...do things..."His face turned beet red. Mae chuckled and sat down next to him at the table.

"Someday you'll want one. Or maybe even a boy...?" She said questioningly. She didn't mind if her baby was one of them homosexualites, she just wanted him to be happy. Sheldon turned even redder and scoffed.

"Mee-maw, I jus' don' like PEOPLE. I don' wanna sexual partner. Of any sort."

"Sexual...wha? Boy, where do you hear this stuff?" Mae clucked her tongue and pet his arm again. "Alrigh', enough chitchat. What happened tonigh'?"

Sheldon's eyes went dark. He looked down at his lap, where his hands were intertwined.

"It wa' layte." He told his hands. "Daddy had bin...harassin' Missy. She tried tuh..." His voice broke as he clenched his hands tighter together. "Triied tuh get him 'way from her. And..." His eyes were filling with tears. Mae felt her heart ache as she smoothed down Sheldon's hair again. He was too distraught to notice.

"Daddy wen' and punched Missy in the jaw, an' when I tried to fix 'er up..." Sheldon swallowed hard. "S-She pushed me down the front steps. S-she said.." Sheldon's voice went higher and nasal, imitating his sister.

'Georgie's righ' 'bout you. Yer jus' a freak. Yer makin' Daddy angry. Yuh left us...an now yer back...and it's yer fault he's like this." Sheldon scrunched up his face and started sobbing silently, his thin shoulders shaking. "An' then I ran."

Mae's stomach dropped. She buried her own face in her hands.

"Mary, why are yoo so stupid?" She murmured to herself. Through her fingers, she saw her grandson's tears dropping onto her kitchen table. It made her sick to think of her daughter and her poor Moonpie in that house. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sat up.

"Shelly-" She started. Sheldon glared at her.

"Call me Moonpie. My family calls me Shelly and I don't like it." He said thickly. He was trying to collect himself, cleaning his face from tears or marks. His voice was sharp, his Texan accent seeming to evaporate. Mae raised an eyebrow, taken aback.

"All righ'...Moonpie, you caint lissen tuh what those awful kids are sayin' tuh yoo."

Sheldon shook his head ruefully. He let out a barking laugh that sounded so much like George Mae felt a ripple of fear hit her. Sheldon tried to look aloof, but Mae could see the fear in his eyes. She was somehow relieved to hear the twang return to his voice.

"Bu whad if their righ'? What if I jus'...left? Maybe..." He closed his eyes and let out another ruthless laugh. "Maybe Daddy'd leave 'em be."

Mae couldn't stop the little gasp that escaped her lips. She turned to stand over her grandson. Her brilliant, clever, self-conscious, damaged little Moonpie. A boy who could figure out time travel but didn't understand what facial expressions were.

A boy who could never survive on his own.

"Shelly, don' do anything rash." She cooed, taking the cold, uneaten sandwich away from him and pulling off his Superman sweatshirt. He looked up at her startled.

"Why?" He whispered. His eyes were pleading and sad. Mae had to fight back tears. She desperately racked her brain for something to say, something he'd understand.

"It's, uh, a non-optional...social...convention?" It came out sounding more like a question, but Sheldon just nodded sadly. He held his head in his hands, his eyes wide and bleary.

"I wish I coul' leave." He yawned loudly. "An' go somewhere else. Where people don' treat me different." His eyes started fluttering closed. Mae smiled ruefully ran to the living room. She picked up her thick blue quilt and brought it back to the kitchen. Sheldon was already snoring softly. Mae draped it over his gangly body. She ran her hands down his cold arms. The bumps there made her stop, puzzled. She gingerly lifted the collar of his shirt from his neck and looked down at his arms.

She saw the cuts there, but didn't cry out. She closed her eyes, remembering the marks that used to dot Mary's arms. They always appeared right after she'd been out with George. Mae could never make them Mary stop seeing him. Even now, she couldn't stop the disaster that was the Coopers. She could only pick up the pieces.

So like she used to do with Mary, she took a warm washcloth and rubbed it all over the unconscious child's arms. She tried the wounds and pulled the covers over him once more. She'd call Mary in the morning, to let her know Shelly was there. She deserved a few hours of worry.

Mae leaned over and whispered in Sheldon's ear.

"Don' you EVER let someone tell yoo you ain't special. Yoo are the mos' amazin' kid I've ever seen. Never forget that."

Sheldon Cooper is a better fake-sleeper than most would think.

After hearing Mee-Maw's words, he didn't cut himself for five entire months.

And he never, EVER let anyone forget he was special.