A/N: This epilogue is being posted as the second part of a double-posting. If you haven't read Chapter 7, this won't make as much sense. Turn back now! :)

Otherwise, if you caught the preceding chapter already, then onward...

Pasadena, California
August 2018

The last five days had passed in a blur that every parent of a newborn infant can understand. The hours and days fade into one another in a constant rotation of feeding, burping, changing, and cleaning. Sleep is often a precious commodity, and between equal and loving partners, a shared gift.

Such as it was with Sheldon and Amy. Hope kept them hopping, as she proved to be much like her father. She did not tolerate being wet or dirty, and let her parents know immediately if she was suffering the indignity and discomfort of either. Hope would give a low warning cry in the event of hunger, but she would "go from zero to seriously upset" if she wasn't seen to quickly.

However her challenges, Hope was also like her father in another respect. Hope knew she was loved, and found great comfort in either parent's arms. Hope also quickly found a set schedule was to her liking, much to the great joy and relief of Sheldon and Amy. She ate well approximately every four hours, and needed changed predictably an hour later. It would be a while before she slept through the night, but there was no unexplained fussiness or crying.

And Hope, along with her Mom and Dad, soon found their way with one another.

While Sheldon's Mom and MeeMaw wouldn't be in town for two more weeks, other family and friends had come by the house since Amy and Hope were released from the hospital to see the new baby. They brought gifts, easy to prepare meals, and their best wishes. Sheldon kept a ready supply of hand sanitizer available, promoted as a prevention against infection by the pediatrician who was assuming Hope's early care. Where Hope was involved, Amy backed Sheldon's diligence in avoiding illness, and all their loved ones understood.

The house was dark and quiet, when Sheldon awoke to a sound that was becoming all too familiar. Hope was becoming restless in her crib across the hallway. Sheldon rolled over and looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

2:30 am. Just like clockwork. Damn.

Amy had been the last one to bed, after Hope had fed last several hours ago. Sheldon knew he was on borrowed time, and flipped back the covers on the bed. He stepped his feet into his slippers immediately beside his bed, and walked past his robe on the hook on the wall. It was a warm late summer's night, and his pajamas would suffice.

Sheldon found his daughter wide awake in her crib. When Hope glared at him, he knew immediately the cause. Sheldon silently lifted his daughter out the crib and placed her on the changing table. He opened the drawer underneath and pulled out the fresh diaper, readying it and a warm wipe before undoing the current offender.

Sheldon, it appeared, learned from some of his early mistakes as a father. Experience is a wonderfully effective, if not always pleasant, teacher.

Blessed that this episode was only wet, Sheldon made quick work of cleaning his daughter and affixing a new diaper. He pulled the sleeper back down over her legs and feet to keep Hope warm, and carried her out to the kitchen. Hope watched with apparent great interest as the pre-prepared bottle was lowered into the warmer.

"Three and a half minutes, sweetheart," Sheldon told his daughter, quietly. "It won't be very much longer."

The timer on the bottle warmer chimed, and Sheldon lifted the bottle out with his free hand. He dried it on a nearby kitchen towel, and brought Hope and her late night infant snack out to the leather couch. Sheldon propped his arm on the arm of the couch, and turned the bottle up to his daughter's mouth. She greedily took to the nipple and started to suckle. Sheldon relaxed backward into the couch, and watched as his daughter fed.

Midway through the bottle, Sheldon thought to try to burp Hope, but she fussed at having the bottle taken from her, even temporarily. Sheldon immediately gave his daughter back the bottle. Maintaining peace and quiet was, to his way of thinking, the lesser of the evils.

That was Sheldon's first rookie mistake that night.

When Hope finished the entirety of the bottle, she became more fussy than usual. Sheldon lifted her upward trying to relieve the air pressure inside her stomach, and found no position that made Hope more comfortable. In the end, he tried lifting her to his shoulder…

The burp that issued forth from his daughter shook the foundation of their home. Or, at least, so it seemed to Sheldon.

Hope was quiet now, but Sheldon knew something was amiss. He felt something warm and wet, dripping down the front of his chest. When he looked, Sheldon groaned outwardly, his head and eyes turned to the heavens.

Sheldon's second rookie mistake? He'd forgotten to get a burp cloth before feeding Hope.

Sheldon's pajama top was covered in formula, newly christened by his daughter. I know better! Sheldon fumed to himself, as he nearly stormed down the hallway. He placed Hope gently on the changing table, and stripped off her fouled sleeper. Sheldon stripped his own pajama top off over his head, tossing it toward the laundry basket, and went to reach into the dresser for a change of garment for Hope.

Then Sheldon stopped. A bright blue flash crossed his daughter's eyes, and a smile lit up her face, just for a moment.

Experts will tell you babies don't smile, because it is a learned phenomenon, not an inherent trait. Parents will tell you otherwise. Sheldon, too, knew in that moment… Hope was smiling at him.

And all Sheldon's frustration and anger at the situation left him, from one heart beat to the next.

Sheldon reached down and carefully lifted his daughter of the table. Clothed in only a diaper, he knew he needed to somehow keep her warm. Sheldon reached for a blanket off a nearby shelf, and brought Hope and the blanket to the rocking chair his Mom and MeeMaw had sent weeks ago. He sat carefully, and gently laid his daughter chest down on his own chest. Sheldon covered them both with the blanket, being careful to wrap Hope only to her shoulders.

Hope raised her head briefly to look at Sheldon. Her expression seemed to say…

It took you long enough, Dad.

Hope snuggled into the warmth of Sheldon's chest. Hope's fingers wrapped themselves in small tufts of the hair she found there, much to Sheldon's chagrin. Sheldon only had to tolerate the discomfort for a brief moment in time, as Hope soon found a comfortable position, and was still.

Sheldon closed his eyes along with his daughter.

######

Amy woke to find herself alone in her bed, the covers opposite thrown aside and the adjacent pillow cool. There was no noise she could perceive coming from another room in the house, so she similarly stood up, slid on her slippers, and left the comfort of her bed to find the other members of her family.

Amy didn't need to go far from her bedroom door to find evidence of Sheldon. She could see the pajama top, half in and half out of the laundry basket inside Hope's bedroom door. When Amy quietly stepped inside, she saw Hope's formula-fouled sleeper still on top of the changing table. Amy couldn't help but smile inwardly, as she quickly surmised what had transpired. She tossed the dirty garment in the laundry bin, and pushed Sheldon's pajama top the rest of the way in it as well.

Amy turned toward the crib, but was met first with a sight that nearly took her breath away. Sheldon was sitting in the rocking chair, presumably asleep, with Hope dreaming in his arms on his chest. They were covered in a blanket, resting together.

Amy's heart strings tugged, but she knew this wasn't a good idea for Hope's safety. Amy opened a drawer to find a replacement sleeper, and put it in the crib. She reached as gently and quietly as she could to take Hope from her position on Sheldon's chest…

"Don't," Sheldon commanded, softly.

Amy smiled. She watched Sheldon's eyes open in the moonlit room.

"Hope needs to sleep in her own bed, Sheldon," Amy admonished in an equally soft tone. "For her safety, as well as for her routine. Otherwise, Hope will think you need to rock her to sleep every time."

Hope stirred, and lifted her head to look at Amy. Amy chuckled softly.

"Don't look at me like that, little one. That one's mine," Amy advised her daughter.

Hope settled back into her original position, and closed her eyes.

Amy reached down to pick up her daughter, but Sheldon stopped Amy by taking her hand instead.

"Do you remember, months ago, when we looked at this house the first time?" Sheldon asked quietly.

Amy smiled, and pulled up a nearby chair to sit beside Sheldon. "I do."

"Do you remember what you said? About this being a house, but we'd make it a home?"

Amy closed her eyes, recalling her exact words. "Home is what we make of wherever we live."

Sheldon nodded. Then he squeezed her hand. "Our home, Amy… our home is where you and I are, and now, where Hope is as well. Our home is what we make of it. All of the good and all of the bad that will come. It never mattered where we were, as long as we were together in it. That is home."

Amy stood, pulling herself together emotionally as best she could in the wake of Sheldon's newest understanding. She took Hope from her father's arms, and dressed her quickly, placing Hope in her crib. The newborn infant never woke in her mother's new but seemingly experienced hands.

Amy turned back to Sheldon, and held her hand out to him. Sheldon stood from the rocking chair, which glided soundlessly to an eventual standstill.

Amy stepped up to Sheldon, releasing his hand and sliding her hands up around his neck. Sheldon reached up and placed his arms around Amy's waist. She kissed him, releasing all the emotion she had held in check in the previous few minutes. He responded, astounded by Amy's voracity he had not expected to find in this moment.

Amy broke the kiss and leaned back slightly. She looked deeply into his eyes, and quietly said with great conviction, "Then welcome home, Sheldon."