The Betrayal Culmination

by ButtonPusherExtraordinaire

What if the Arctic fiasco resulted in consequences and permanent changes, unable to be washed away by lukewarm apologies? What if Sheldon was more of a character than caricature? What if Penny understood the sabotage's depths? What if Sheldon had someone on his side? What if Sheldon understood more than he let on? AU!

2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews. I appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Big Bang Theory or any of the characters therein.

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"It's a good thing that we didn't put money down on it," Howard muttered, shaking his head, wondering if reality was reality. Hopefully, it was a nightmare—or it would stop being a nightmare shortly. "We'd probably be out thousands."

"Millions," Raj corrected. "I would have bet my life on it."

"You think your life is worth millions of dollars?"

"Don't you?"

"Good point."

"But what's not good is that we were wrong. Wrong like how Einstein was wrong about nuclear energy being unobtainable wrong."

"Don't remind Sheldon of that heresy," Howard pointed out seriously, saying the name that they usually elected not to discuss—it reminded them too much of what had happened and what they did. "He takes Einstein's words as gospel."

Raj shrugged. "It's Einstein."

"True."

"But we were wrong," Raj said, bowing his head. "We thought he would be back by now. It's been over a month, and there's been nothing—no message, no phone call, no email. It's radio silence. Do you think he's dead?"

Howard cringed but couldn't deny the possibility. The thought of killing Sheldon in the Arctic had been tempting but knowing that it might have actually happened left him feeling shaken. "Maybe. Just don't tell Penny—she's pissed enough as it is."

Penny hadn't spoken to any of them since the day she learned that Sheldon left; every time one of them approached her, there were wordless glares, conveying a dire threat that they knew better than to challenge.

They needed to let her cool off—hopefully. Neither of them wanted to be punched, and Leonard didn't want to be punched again. However, rumors swirled through the campus that Sheldon was responsible for Leonard's bruised, swollen face. Leonard hadn't denied any of the rumors, rather wanting people to believe that Sheldon had punched him instead of a girl.

Howard didn't blame him.

But by not denying it, people started watching them more, wondering what had happened in the Arctic to provoke Sheldon's 'sabbatical'—as the Board called it, blatantly ignoring Sheldon's public resignation via email across the campus servers. For the 'brilliant and prodigious Dr. Cooper,' he could have his job back whenever he wanted.

It only made him feel more bitterness towards Sheldon—and he knew he wasn't alone.

But the fact that such physical violence, something Sheldon was known to abhor, correlated so closely in time to the mysterious championing of his grand discovery to his humiliating resignation made some people suspicious. Questions were being asked, but thankfully, most of them were harmless; most people assumed that Sheldon had finally snapped, losing his sanity by misreading his own experiment—because it was only a matter of time, which everyone knew.

Dr. Gaublehoser had been staring at them several times, face impressively unreadable, but that was the only one who they were truly wary of. Well, there was also the several new professional faces that spoke only with Dr. Gaublehoser, appearing and disappearing like smoke; no one knew who they were or why they were there. But thankfully, nothing came out of it.

Sheldon had chosen to fall on his sword instead of raising a fuss about the prank, but they all knew the truth about what happened—and so did Penny.

Why had they ever agreed to go to the Arctic?

"Do you think she's pissed enough to tell someone the truth?" Howard asked, catching Raj somber eyes. "I think she could do it. I think she could march into Gaublehoser's office and tell him—I think she'd do it if she thought of it. She's pissed. She looked like she would castrate me the last time I saw her."

"She has no evidence," Raj pointed out softly. "There is no evidence. It's our word against Sheldon's word—and Penny's."

Howard's face twisted in dismayed frustration. "He's plotting vengeance right now—he has to be. He's going to return and kill us—kill our careers."

Raj swallowed. "We killed his. I see that now. Or, at least, pushed it back many years—probably a whole decade."

"It was either that or disposing of him," he reminded, recalling their furious frustration being locked with Sheldon in the Arctic. "We chose honorably—because we chose the one option that guaranteed we all got to come home and live another day."

"But we drove Sheldon away from home."

Howard forced a scoff to smother the guilt surging through him. "That was his fault. He's the one who chose to leave."

Raj looked hollow. "But we're the ones who sabotaged him—and we're the ones who decided to join him for his expedition. He didn't make us. We made our choices—and we made the wrong ones."

"I know," Howard whispered.

Raj sulked, picking at the food on his tray. "It's scary."

"Bone-chilling," he agreed. "I start to sweat just thinking about it."

"But that's not much of a change."

Howard narrowed his eyes and quickly grabbed the dull knife on his tray, pointing it at Raj threateningly; it was a nice reprieve from thinking about the Arctic—and how haunted and devastated Sheldon looked when he learned the truth. "I didn't tell you about my overactive sweat glands just so that you could throw it back in my face."

"Sorry."

Satisfied, he dropped the knife, and said hopefully: "Besides, maybe it will all work out. I know Sheldon says he can't forget anything, but I've never believed that. Maybe he'll forget about this."

Raj prodded the table with his elbows, hanging his head in his hands, dejected. "If he forgets about it, Penny will just remind him. Nothing will ever be the same."

"It's going to keep changing," Howard admitted, hating that it was the truth. "Right now, we're afloat just trying to find land. But what land will we find? What's going to be the new status quo? Because this isn't the new status quo—it's just the evolution into it. Right now, we have no structural integrity."

"Had," Raj corrected. "I think we're stuck now, and we can't get out of this—we've let it go on too long. We should have come clean that first day after we got back. It would have been horrible, but it was the right time—the only time—to do it. But now, we come out of it looking even worse."

Howard shook his head in comfort. "We don't come out of it at all—because no one's ever going to know. We won't tell anyone, and we can stop Penny from telling anyone- "

Raj's eyes bulged in horror. "We can't kill Penny!"

He sighed. "No, of course not. But we can try to become her friend again—regain her trust. Once we do that, we can explain what really happened."

"She already knows."

"But she'll see it from our perspective now."

"You have more hope than I do, but if it gets us able to see that goddess again and listen to her talk, we should do it."

Howard rolled his eyes. "Careful, Raj. A predator's going to smell your bleeding heart and come rip you to pieces."

"I think I'd accept that fate," Raj countered with no heat; his eyes were hazy. "Because it's better than this one. This may be worse than the Arctic."

"Don't say that- "

"But it is—because we don't know now. We're stuck, waiting for something to happen. I feel like I'm on pins and needles, waiting for the other shoe to drop! It's horrible! I'm paranoid and keep looking over my shoulder; I feel like I'm being watched!"

Howard waved him off to suppress the very real terror that shot through him because he felt like he was being watched, too. "It's just a temporary displacement of the natural order. We were just wrong by a few weeks. I guarantee that Sheldon will be back in the next two weeks and be ready to accept our reasoning. Things will return to normal."

Raj looked sullen and haunted simultaneously. "What if this is the new normal?"

The terror was a lot harder to suppress. "It won't be—it can't be. No, we won't let it be, Raj."

"The reality where Sheldon is our enemy—because we made him our enemy—with the hottest girl we've ever seen on his side, being his friend and ally, is terrifying." Raj's hands gripped his tray, knuckles clenching; the fear in his orbs, Howard knew, was reflected in his own. "I wish we could go back and not go on the expedition."

"Me too, but we're the only ones who understand that," Howard pointed out, reminding Raj of their shared states. "We're in this together. Penny's never going to understand—she'll just keep picking Sheldon's side until we befriend her again."

Raj shuddered. "Or until Sheldon comes back and destroys us. She'd probably help him."

He gripped onto the few rays of hope left in his heart. "No, we'll stop it from happening. We just need them both to cool off."

"But what if they don't?"

Howard swallowed. "Sheldon would be more unbearable than usual, I guarantee it. He'd be all triumphant, like when Napoleon returned from Elba to reclaim his throne and empire."

"Sheldon's a lot taller than Napoleon."

Howard rolled his eyes. "That doesn't matter. They're both geniuses, and they're both conquerors."

"Oh." Raj nodded, drawing into himself even further. "I get it. Because Sheldon will return and conquer us with his indomitable genius. He will desolate everything in vengeance."

Such a thought made his over-active sweat glands active terribly. "And Penny would help, wouldn't she? She'd be a fierce Valkyrie with her golden hair, glowing skin, and breasts out- "

"I think you're the one with the bleeding heart."

"It's worth it for that image," he argued, finding his blood flowing thinking about Penny as a tantalizing, enticing Valkyrie.

"She is a masterpiece," Raj concluded, nodding his head.

Howard grinned, images flashing in his mind. "She can master my piece anytime she wants."

"I know," Raj agreed, eyes glazed with fantasies before they cleared. "I mean, she could seduce a monk. And have you noticed that Sheldon sometimes stares at her when she's not looking?"

His brows furrowed, confused. "No."

"That's because you're too busy doing the same thing."

Howard shrugged in admittance. "Probably."

"And then there's times that she stared at him," Raj continued. "Do you think that's why she took his side?"

Howard scoffed. "Of course not. She just got emotional and chose him."

"But Sheldon doesn't understand emotions," Raj pointed out, confused. "He couldn't have tugged on her heart strings or anything because he doesn't know how to do it."

He waved a hand. "She made the connections, that's all. He just got to her first, unfortunately. If we had gotten to her first, she would have picked our side." He paused for dramatic effect, leaning forward conspiratorially; he didn't want to keep thinking about somber things. "And do you know how far apart I'd stand from Penny when she killed me?"

"I don't know."

"A bone apart!"

Raj grinned. "You're so clever. 'Cause we were talking about Napoleon…"

Howard puffed out his chest. "I know. Can't you see, Raj? It's all a joke—because it's never going to happen. It will all blow over. Sheldon won't be like Napoleon, Penny won't be a Valkyrie, and we won't be their victims."

He wanted Penny to be a Valkyrie, but if it meant that everything would go back to normal, he was okay with her not being one.

Raj remained quiet for several moments, eyes drifting across the lunchroom. "I thought it was a joke at first, Sheldon running off and Penny being so angry at us—an impending explosion that we would have front-row seats to, and we'd laugh about it afterwards because it was so insane and funny. Now, I'm not thinking that. I'm thinking that this is our nightmare, and we'll be forced to watch it unfold by living it."

Howard closed his eyes, drawing in a sharp breath that sounded like a hiss to his ears. "We can't let this be our new reality, Raj."

"I know, but I think it already is."

"I don't know if I can live with that."

Leonard suddenly sat down at the table with his tray of food. "You don't know if you can live with what? Are you talking about Gaublehoser's expectations again?"

He blinked. "Um… no. We're not talking about anything."

"We're talking about Sheldon and Penny," Raj informed, morose.

Howard glared at him. "We're talking about this breach of trust later."

Leonard sighed. "Of course, you are. What is it this time?"

"Go ahead, Raj," he grumbled, leaning back in his chair, waving his friend on. "Spill your bleeding heart."

Raj sagged. "We messed up, and I don't see how we come back from it."

Leonard's face, almost unblemished from Penny's punch, closed off as he shuddered. "We keep talking about it, which means we're keeping it alive. If we want to move past it, which I think we all do, we have to let it die. We shouldn't talk about it—take it with us to our graves. All we have now is the lie. We can't do anything else but embrace it—unless any of you feel like telling everyone what we did."

"What we did was the stupidest thing we've ever done," Raj whispered, face stricken with panic and dread. "Sheldon and Penny are right to hate us."

"Not the stupidest thing I've ever done, but it's up there."

Howard frowned. "What's the stupidest?"

"Moving in with Sheldon—and actually going on that stupid Arctic expedition."

"That's my answer," Howard agreed. "What the hell were we thinking going with him? Because he was right—we knew what it would be like. But we still went."

"If I had never gone, I would be with Penny now, and she wouldn't be mad at me," Leonard said, wistful. "One wrong decision changes the world. It changed mine."

"It changed all of ours," Raj pointed out. "It changed Sheldon's, too. It changed his so bad that he had to leave. We don't know where he is."

Leonard closed his eyes briefly. "His mom said that he's in touch with her when I called. He's fine; he's Sheldon. It will all blow over—it always does. The worst thing that can happen is we have to take his stupid class. And he'll probably tax us on strikes for a while."

"Re-education," Howard breathed, stricken. "Anything but that. I'd rather he hate us for the rest of our lives."

Raj's eyes crinkled. "He's our friend- "

"Speak for yourself," Howard grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. "A true friend wouldn't always be such an asshole. He wouldn't brag all the time about how smart he is or the evolution he's going to uncover."

Raj rolled his eyes. "Dude, you know you'd be rubbing it in our faces if you were as smart as Sheldon."

"That's different! Sheldon's different! Now we have nothing! I have nothing! It's just like when I tried to get into that fraternity. I was so close, but then it was taken away by someone smarter."

"What are you talking about?" Leonard asked, incredulous. "How does a fraternity relate to Sheldon?"

"It's a good thing he's not here because him and a fraternity together in a sentence is a paradox," Raj whispered, eyes darting all around the cafeteria, panicked, as if he was looking for Sheldon to randomly appear in a swirl of logic, intellect, and hard ass demands. "Sheldon hates paradoxes."

Howard glared at him. "I don't care."

Raj paused, face clearing before intrigue was all that remained. "Wait. You tried to get into a fraternity at M.I.T.? You never told me that."

He shrugged. "I tried and failed the initiation process."

Leonard furrowed his brows. "What'd they want you to do? Push-ups? Chug beer?"

"They were asking me questions, and I thought I was doing great until they came to the 'make-or-break question,' as they called it."

Raj's eyes widened. "Was it a math problem?"

Howard glared at him again. "Even though it was at M.I.T., the fraternity was pretty much full of jocks."

"What was the question?" Leonard asked.

Memories flooded him of that day, and he closed his eyes, voice soft. "They gave me a scenario; said that I was out at a bar and having a good time, and that a hot girl comes on to me, begging for a piece of my best feature."

"Well done," Leonard commended.

Howard opened his eyes to roll them. "There were parameters."

"Which were?"

"There were no relationships or sexual encounters allowed if you're in the fraternity. Your loyalty has to be to the fraternity first, to your brothers, not to some girl, no matter how hot she is. They said that the girl is begging for it, dripping like a faucet, and they asked what I would do. I was thinking about it, thinking of a good answer- "

"Were they looking for an insult back at them?" Leonard demanded, gesturing with his fork. "I've heard that some fraternities ask those questions to see how witty you are."

"If I was going to insult them, I would have told the main guy how he needed to control his sister or something because she was the one doing the begging."

"You didn't say that?" Raj asked.

"No. I thought of that a few months later when I was still angry about it."

Leonard's eyebrows rose. "Well… you still seem angry about it."

Howard grit his teeth. "Of course, I am! I should have told that main guy that thing about his sister! It would have been perfect!" Upon seeing Leonard and Raj's sympathetic expressions, he deflated. "But I didn't."

"Then what did you tell them?"

"That I'd take the fine or whatever for breaking the code and spend the night with the girl."

Raj gasped, looking delighted. "That's a great answer!"

Leonard nodded approvingly. "Good job."

Howard hung his head in shame. "It wasn't. That's not the answer they wanted. I failed."

"What?" Raj demanded, horrified. "What answer did they want?"

Sighing, he recalled that night. "I was supposed to say, 'I'd fuck her in the bathroom and get out quick before anyone could see me.'"

Leonard blinked. "I guess that would be what they were looking for."

Raj rapidly shook his head. "No, it can't be!"

"Of course, it is!" Howard hissed out, rubbing his hands through his hair. "And I was the only one out of everyone who didn't answer it right! They were smarter than me!"

"If it helps, we wouldn't have gotten it right, either," Raj consoled, smiling sympathetically.

Leonard nodded in agreement. "Raj is right. I wouldn't have gotten it."

Howard found that they weren't helping. "Knowing our luck, especially with everything that's happened, Sheldon would somehow miraculously give them an answer that they'd accept!" he erupted. "That lucky bastard. In that scenario, he'd probably get to have sex with that girl for the whole night, and it wouldn't be a problem! Everyone always makes excuses for him! They always let him slide, let him off the hook. Case in point, the Board refused to accept his resignation and has taken the stance that Dr. Cooper is just on a sabbatical—and they do that for him when he's not even tenured! And it's all because he's such a genius. But I don't see a genius when I look at him. I see a child; I see a whining brat who can't live in the real world because he's so insane and controlling."

Raj picked at the food on his tray, clearly not hungry. "I don't know if we're talking about the same Sheldon. It's different now with him gone- "

"We don't even know him now."

"Did we ever?"

"Good point," Howard conceded. "But you know what hasn't changed?"

"What?" Leonard asked warily.

"The fact that he's not a true friend," he said, stubborn. "If he was, he'd forgive us for the prank. Yes, it was stupid; yes, it was dumb; yes, it was immature. We all agree on that, don't we?"

"It was a few other things, too, but that's the gist of it," Raj agreed.

Leonard nodded. "What are you saying, Howard?"

Howard leaned forward. "We know it was all those things, and we'll never deny that it was stupid or whatever. But we were desperate. We didn't have a choice—because he didn't give us a choice! It's his own damn fault. That controlling bastard has now ruined all our lives and dragged us down with him. And he's got Penny pissed at us, too! Just when I think she was starting to warm up to my charms- "

Raj stared at him, aghast. "Dude, in what reality are you living? The only thing that Penny's warm about is being on Sheldon's side."

"That's just it!" he exclaimed. "And Sheldon did that! He got to her first and turned her against us! We already had our hands full with Sheldon being against us, but now we've got Penny, too! Our destruction is imminent; they will annihilate us. They are biding their time to strike, and we're going to be unable to stop them. The only solution is to befriend her again and try to make her see our side and understand our reasoning." He wiggled his eyebrows at Leonard. "Then she could become more than my friend—or your friend. You've had an in with her for a while."

Leonard's face flickered. "Until Sheldon ruined it by getting her on his side."

He stretched out his hands. "I guess I'll have to turn on the charms, lay it on a little more thick, which will make me irresistible."

"Your innuendoes aren't as good as you think," Leonard said, readjusting his glasses. "And Penny's mine. I called dibs—and I saw her first."

"I think you're afraid that my game is stronger than yours. A good innuendo can make all the difference."

"I think if you tried anything now, Penny would flip out," Raj pointed out. "She hates us right now, which includes you."

"But I'll change that- "

Raj's eyes widened in realization. "Dude, if Penny kills you, Sheldon will help her cover her tracks. He'd return just for the occasion. Penny would smile to the cops and lie, charming them, while Sheldon would probably dissolve your corpse in acid or something. Maybe dissect your brain, or chop it into- "

Howard paled. "Stop! Let's talk about something else."

Leonard took a bite of his meal, rolling his eyes. "Look, I know how much it sucks, and you know I know, but we're going to have to deal with it for right now. We just have wait for it all to roll over. We just have to bide our time. Then Penny will be interested in me again. And no, you have no chance with her. She wants me; she's going to love me. I think she was starting to before this whole Arctic fiasco. And now that Sheldon's no longer here, she's not going to be as patient. We have to be on our best behavior."

"No more innuendoes?" he whispered, dismayed.

"I think so," Raj confirmed, face stretching in sympathy. "You can say them to me if you want."

"Thanks, Raj," Howard said, grateful, before he glared at Leonard. "You know, I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if you'd gotten with Penny like you said you would before that stupid trip!"

Leonard looked astonished, and Howard wanted to smack the expression off his face. "How did you figure that?"

"Because instead of being all panicked, anxious, and frustrated while we were with Sheldon, you would have been relaxed and steady because Penny emptied your balls for you! But that's not what happened! You were all frustrated and pent up, which made me and Raj feel the same way, and it all deteriorated with the prank!"

Eyes narrowed, Leonard inhaled sharply. "Fine. I'm going to channel my mother and- "

"You hate your mom."

"She has her uses. I'm going to make a diagnosis."

Howard snorted. "By all means, Dr. Hofstadter."

"You're trying to piss me off because you think Penny is ripe for the taking now," Leonard stated, and Howard stiffened in his chair. "You subscribe to overcompensation."

"How?"

"Because Penny's mad at me right now, you think you can swoop in and make her fall in love with you or something. You're overcompensating to piss me off, thinking I'll make a dumb play for Penny in an overcompensation after hearing of your intentions, ruining my chances even more with her right now because she's also mad at me, which clears the path for you. Then, because Penny will be overcompensating because of my dumb play, looking to someone else, you're all in the clear. Pretty much, you're trying to scare me off while scaring Penny into your arms."

Raj's eyes brightened as he piped in: "You're fighting to make your own reality. That makes sense."

Howard grit his teeth. "What doesn't make sense is that she chose Sheldon! She chose his side! And she doesn't even care to hear our side! Last time I tried to talk to her, she said she'd have my penis in a jar on her shelf! And there's the fact that she knows what we did!" He looked around, making sure no one was listening before leaning closer, seeing Leonard and Raj mimic him. "She knows. She knows the truth, and that makes her very powerful. She's always been powerful, but now she's even more. She always had the power to break our hearts, but now she can break our minds. She's on Sheldon's side, and she could decide to weaponize her knowledge to spite us, thinking she's helping Sheldon or something. She could go to Gaublehoser or someone on the Board. You know she's capable of it; you know she's bold enough to do it."

Leonard's face had drained of blood, eyes glassy. "You're right," he whispered, horrified. "I didn't even think of that."

He felt little satisfaction at seeing the agony he felt inside so vividly depicted on Leonard's face. "That's why I can't accept it. Our careers are just starting to take off, aren't they? That's the whole reason we decided to go to the Arctic with Sheldon—for our careers, because we sensed the experiment would accelerate everything due to us being primed for it. We didn't do it for him—only an idiot would do that. But she could ruin our careers—or set us back a long time if she decides to get a little mouthy, and we all know that her nature is to be mouthy. She's like Sheldon that way." He put his head in hands with a deep groan. "Damn it. Why did he have to be such a baby? It he would get his head out of his ass, everything would be fine. He'd probably learn to laugh about it! But I know him—he won't. He's vindictive and cruel. He'll hold this against us forever. I hate him for it. And we can't even stop him from plotting his certain vengeance. He's better than us at everything. The only good thing to come out of this is that he was so mortified by his failure that he didn't tell Gaublehoser or the Board about the prank."

Raj poked at his food with his fork, disgruntled. "All we have left is that we're better with people."

"Might not be for too long," Howard mumbled bitterly. "It looked like he was starting to get better before the Arctic. I'm guessing Penny got her hooks into him or something; she must remind him of his mom or something. Remember when we went to the comic bookstore, and he politely disagreed with that one guy who said that Superman was a terrible character instead of raising hell and verbally eviscerating him?"

Leonard nodded with a groan. "You didn't see the aftermath."

"Meaning?" Howard asked.

"Neither of you were there when I had to hear all of Sheldon's 'righteous indignation' later that night; it was a 40-minute rant, at least, about how Superman is the greatest character out of all superheroes, both Marvel and DC. It got so bad, I had to check out with a migraine."

Howard's jaw clenched. "Too bad we couldn't check out of the Arctic with migraines."

Leonard's face fell. "Part of me wonders now that even if I got with Penny, if she'd start checking out with migraines when it's time for sex."

"That's a bad sign- "

"Of course, it's a bad sign! And I'd have to worry if it means she's seeing some guy she met at a party or something."

He brightened, ideas flowing through his mind. "She always has those hot friends of hers. Maybe we can get with them. This could be how we get back in her good graces, right? That's how it works—you have to befriend a girl's friends before you befriend the girl herself. You know what? She could give us tips about picking up women. It'll be like having an inside man- I mean, woman! It's a double win. We'll make a good impression on both Penny and her hot friends."

Leonard straightened, intrigued. "I hadn't thought of that."

"It's because you're too busy trying to be the good guy," Howard retorted. "Try things my way. It's a lot easier, trust me."

"But the conversation goes both ways," Leonard pointed out. "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. We can learn from her, and she can learn from us—learn why we did what we did. Because it's become obvious to me, and it might just be the most important thing—Penny controls Sheldon for us now. He trusts her more than us, definitely. If we want to prevent him from taking vengeance, we have to go through her. I suspect she knows where he is or has an idea, at least. We have to get her to talk Sheldon down. Because that's her position now; she's taken on a bigger, more influential role. She's willingly taken the load off our shoulders and put it onto her own. She handles Sheldon now instead of us."

Raj's eyes widened in worried dismay. "Maybe we should take some of the load back. Have you seen her shoulders? They're amazing. We don't want to damage them from the load bearing down on them! We must share the burden with her!"

"Why would I want to do that?" Howard demanded, feeling something twist inside of his heart. "Sheldon doesn't respect me at all, and I certainly don't respect him, either. He calls me a 'mere engineer' all the time! He's compared my intellect to that of a developing and stunted Neanderthal! Matter of fact, why would I even want Sheldon to come back? What has he ever done for me? Do you remember what he said when I asked him if he thought I would have any luck dating a hot girl? He said barring astronomical events, my success is statistically impossible! Then there was that one time when Penny asked how many times a girl has rejected me. I said I can't count that high, but Sheldon cut in and said he could. He started calculating the number based on evidence presented in-person and through stories, and to make him stop and not tell Penny the number, I had to give him my trader's edition Superman cape on the promise that he'd never tell anyone the number and to stop keeping track! It was bullshit! Why did we even go on that damned expedition?"

"Career advancement," Leonard responded. "That's why we went. It's why I left Penny—because I thought the allure of the opportunities was brighter and more of a sure-thing."

"But that wasn't enough," he pointed out. "There had to be more to it, right? Why did we go at the end of the day?"

Raj stared at him, sighing in pain before he straightened. "Because, for whatever reason, we like Sheldon. That's why we've all stayed friends with him for so long, isn't it? I don't know if we've ever actually been friends with him—at least, not like how we are with each other. It's always been different with him. He was just there, I guess. But there's something about Sheldon that draws us in. Maybe it's because he's more fluent in Nerd than we are, so we don't feel as ostracized. Maybe it's because, when we're not jealous of his intelligence, we're in awe of it, and we want to see how his mind works up-close. Maybe we hope to learn something from him, that he'll broaden our cognitive aptitudes, open our eyes to the things we can't see. A mind of his caliber, it's rare; it's once-in-a-generation. We want to be part of his story, I guess. We want to be part of history. We'll never be in the orbit of someone as intelligent as Sheldon for the rest of our lives. We try to make the most of it. That's what we've always done, and we haven't always done a good job. While, as a man, I'm super jealous and angry about everything that he is, as a scientist, I can't wait to see what he does next."

"Why does he have to be so great?" Howard whispered, agonized. "Why couldn't it be one of us? At least we're likeable. He's the most unlikeable dick in the world."

Leonard looked lost. "I once thought we could be the stabilizing influence he so obviously needed; I thought we would help him achieve that greatness, even if he said we never would or could. My mother would rather have him as her son instead of me—I've always known it from the first time I heard them talking. She takes an interest in him and actually seems proud when he discusses his accomplishments, and he doesn't even notice. He doesn't notice anything—or if he does, he doesn't care. We can't measure up to him. We've tried. Even when we've tried together, the three of us, he was still so much better—so much faster. The only thing we've ever actually accomplished against him in any meaningful way is the prank. I've seen his mind work; he makes instant connections and absorbs depths. I don't know how he does it. I've tried to do it myself, and I can't; I've asked him for help, trying to see if he just knows a trick that I don't know, but all he ever says is 'there is no trick, Leonard; this is what I am.' He always derides my work as derivative and pointless; he says I know nothing of evolution. He claims he has never been tortured by his genius, but I am tortured by his genius."

"We all are," he agreed.

"He's never known how to cope with his invincibility," Leonard continued, dazed. "I didn't know how to cope with it. How do you cope with it? How do you live with someone who's so far beyond you? How do you live with a mind that reshapes itself daily in an infinite cycle towards the ultimate evolution he pursues, which he claims is within him but that he only must find it?"

Raj swallowed. "I think we destroyed his invincibility."

Howard's jaw clenched. "Good. He deserved for it to be destroyed. Maybe now he can actually not be such a controlling freak. We humbled him, and he needed it. I don't regret what we did to him—I just regret that we decided to go that place with him. We have to be as stupid as he says we are. We shouldn't have gone."

Leonard's face flashed. "No, we shouldn't have. Now he's gone, and Penny won't even look at us."

"It will all work out," he assured—not only for Leonard and Raj but himself. "We'll befriend Penny again. We did it once against all the odds. How hard can it be? And we actually know her now. We know how she thinks and what she responds to. We'll get her on our side."

Raj looked hopeful. "And she'll help us with other women. She'll be our insider."

He grinned and puffed out his chest. "I'd love to be inside her."

Leonard's eyes narrowed. "She's mine. I saw her first."

Howard rolled his eyes. "It's just a joke."

"But you would sleep with her if you had the chance."

"Of course," he admitted, unashamed. "I'd chop off my arm just to fuck her."

Raj's brows rose. "Is that before or after she has your penis in a jar on her shelf?"

Howard shuddered. "That'd be before. Because when I have sex with her, she'd totally change her mind about having my penis in a jar. She'll have it in her mouth. And her vagina."

"That's enough," Leonard warned. "I'm telling you now—if you say that to Penny, she will kill you, and Sheldon will come back just to dissect your brain because only a madman would say such a thing."

"Sounds like Sheldon should dissect his own brain," he muttered, bitter. "He could lose half his brain and still be a pain-in-the-ass genius."

Leonard sighed, looking like he agreed. "Probably."

"Lucky son of a bitch."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The emptiness remained. No matter what he did, it clung to him, emanating from within, beckoning, threatening to swallow him. Even his train ride to Texas from California, which should have brought him a dizzying amount of pleasure, did little to mitigate the profound void haunting him. The days passed, and there was no change in the sensation overwhelming him. It appeared clear to him that he suffered from a structural breach, for his mandated instincts were not as effectual as usual, unable to border off the memories he swore to never remember, for images slipped through the cracks of the mental wall. He adjusted his sleeping schedule, hoping it would facilitate progress, but it did not help; it only provoked him to awaken with the echoes of that day lingering in his ears.

His desperation reached its horror when he tried to speak to the other passengers, hoping for a suitable distraction that would force the memories away, confining them to their proper places—for now. Yet, his efforts were in vain, for his encounters were quick and insincere—on both sides. Thus, he spoke minimally with the other passengers, having no desire to speak with such simple minds; he wanted to speak with someone who understood.

But he knew that no one would ever understand.

He had vowed to expand his perception to put things in their places, but his memories would not return to the place he designated for them—it was maddening! He tried to return to his powerful habits, but his habits were no longer satisfactory, impotent to the rising virility possessed by his memories, which roared in presence, eager to remind him after years of slumber. He tried to impose his familiar structure and order, but he was oriented according to new degrees, angles, and calculations; the pieces of the puzzle no longer fit together to produce a beautiful image. The only image left for him was horrifying and monstrous—the memories of that day.

His paradigm was defaced forever.

It was not the unfamiliar environment in which he found himself that threatened him; it was his perennial loss of his structure and order—his paradigm—that threatened him, which was only possible by the cracks in his mental barrier.

Returning home had only exasperated the situation, unfortunately—yet, he knew of its necessity. However, he found extensive difficulty in accepting it, for he tried to return to his status quo, but the status quo was irreparably harmed. No matter his exertion in trying to repair it, to return to an enforced serenity, he failed.

When he showed up at the only place his mind signified as home, Mama had greeted him with a warm hug and familiar smile, though her eyes evaluated him in consternation when he notified her that he had not slept in days. When he refused to elaborate, finding the subject tediously painful, she did not push him, and instead suggested he rest. It was an efficient strategy—a tactical retreat before returning with reinforcements. However, even Missy and Meemaw were unable to pierce his defenses, though they lobbied impressive spears, pointed with probing, invasive questions, directed by eager, inquisitive eyes. He deflected all questions with an insistent demand for peace, reiterating his demand for solace, the perfect atmosphere for reflection and discover.

When it became clear that they were unsatisfied by his reasonable demand for space, he left the house and, despite his innate resistance, for he had resisted it since his return, he went to the garage and pulled the door open, drawn by a force beyond his understanding, magnetized. Sunlight burst through the darkness in illumination, revealing what had been hidden by the garage door. It had been over fifteen years since he had stepped foot inside the garage—the same time since he had been home—but unlike the rest, the garage echoed his memory of it. The only difference was the obvious passage of time; colors did not burn as bright, and dust coated all the surfaces.

And parked inside, on four flat tires, was Daddy's truck—it looked in horrible shape, nothing like he remembered. It was appalling, for Daddy would have never let such a 'travesty' happen. Yet, it happened—because Daddy was gone.

Sheldon remembered all his lessons, trivia, and facts about germs, but none held enough power and sway to stop him from brushing his fingers across the dust, grime, and soil-covered hood. When he looked to the side, to where Daddy would always stand, he flinched as Daddy looked back at him with his crystal eyes and deep chuckle. The memory enveloped him:

"How does that look?" Daddy asked, gesturing with his head at all the car parts visible to their eyes from the open hood. "Does it look like it did before?"

He blinked and looked at the new parts, all arranged correctly. "Yes."

Daddy nodded and kicked the flat tire with an annoyed huff. "I don't suppose you got enough air in that head of yours to fix this for me, do you?"

Sheldon shook his head. "You need a- "

"I know what I need," Daddy interrupted and took a deep swig from his beer bottle. "Do you know why I don't buy a new truck?"

"Because we can't afford it."

Daddy chuckled, surprised, before shaking his head. "Not that—not only that. I don't buy one 'cause I can fix ours; I can do it myself. I don't need some asshat in town doin' it for me and chargin' me like it's 2105. We ride in this truck every day; we use it every day. We trust it to take us where we gotta go; we trust it to get us there safely. We place our lives in this truck's hands—and whoever fixes it up when it needs fixin'. That's why I fix it and don't buy a new one. I ain't ever gonna trust someone with our lives—I trust us. That's why I fix this truck—because our lives belong to us, not some half-ass mechanic who's only in it for the money and don't give a rat's ass if we live or die. You can't always be relyin' on others to do stuff for you, least of all your stuff. You gotta do your own thing; you gotta trust yourself and know what you're capable of. If you can fix the truck, you fix the truck; if you can do it, you do it—that goes for anythin'. I bought this truck after your mama got pregnant with Gig, and it's lasted us ever since. It's part of the family now—because it's kept us safe all these years. You gotta love your truck so your truck will love you—that goes for anythin', too. You gotta love your food so your food will love you; you gotta love your kids so your kids will love you; you gotta love your wife so your wife will love you; you gotta love your friends so your friends will love you. That means you gotta take care of them and pay attention. Do you understand what I'm sayin', Sheldon?"

Sheldon nodded but didn't actually understand fully; it didn't make a lot of sense. He didn't see how it applied to him. "Uh-huh."

There was a long silence as Daddy nodded, satisfied, before he began cleaning his tools.

"Your mama told me what happened today at school," Daddy said, glancing at him as he cleaned his tools. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Sheldon flinched as he recalled the humiliation and shame enforced on him by his tormentors; he wanted to hug himself, but he did not want to aggravate his bruises. "Why doesn't anyone like me?"

Daddy paid special attention to his favorite wrench, polishing it with precision. "No one likes everyone. There's always gonna be people you hate, Sheldon." He placed wrench on his workbench and turned to him, eyes holding him in place. "And there's always gonna be people who hate you, too. No matter what you do, they'll hate you. Your mama says that love will make everythin' better and convince people you ain't worth hatin', but that's hogwash. Bein' different scares people, which makes them hate, and you're different, which means they hate you."

He sniffed and tried not to cry, but it was hard! "Why? Why do they hate me?"

"Because you're different- "

"No, I'm not!" he cried out, heartbroken. "I'm like everyone else!"

Daddy's smile looked different; it looked pained. "I know you wish that. But you're different, Sheldon; you're not like anyone 'round here—you're not like anyone I've ever met. You're never gonna be normal. But you can be you, and that's all that matters. You matter. What everyone else thinks don't matter."

Sheldon scrubbed at his eyes, ashamed. "But if I tell them about- "

"Tellin' them's not gonna do anythin'. You think if you act like them, maybe they'll start likin' you, stop pushin' you around and callin' you every name in the book from 'freak' to 'retard,' right? Is that what you think?"

"Yes," he whispered, looking down.

Daddy crouched in front of him. "Bein' different scares people, Sheldon, and you're different. You gotta make a decision." Daddy tapped his chest before he tapped his forehead. "You gotta use both of these—your heart and your brain. Are you gonna accept what you are? And are gonna be a man? Are you gonna be able to look yourself in the mirror without feelin' shame? Are you gonna be proud of yourself? Are you gonna be proud to leave your name to your kids? You can't let everyone that hates you rule your life. Are you gonna let them manage your life? Are you gonna let them control you? Are you gonna care what they think 'bout you? You can't be a victim, Sheldon. You gotta make your own choices and go your own way. You gotta have all that balance. It's like the earth and sky—you can't have one without the other. What would you be without the earth? What would you be without the sky? You gotta have both for your life to be a life."

"I don't like my life," Sheldon confessed, scared, looking back to make sure Mama didn't hear him. She'd wash his mouth out with soap! She'd say that his life was a blessing from God and that he needed to always love and like his life because it was a gift!

"Your mama's inside," Daddy said with a huff of amusement. "You're fine—don't worry."

"Will you tell on me?"

Daddy ruffled his hair before Sheldon chased his large hand away and fixed his hair. "Of course not. She don't understand you, and that's 'cause you're different; you're ain't what she expected, and you ain't like Gig or Missy. But she tries, and she's a good mother because of it. It's just hard to make sense of you. Why don't you like your life?"

Sheldon's chest wavered with boiling emotion. "I don't know."

"Life's hard—it wouldn't be worth livin' if it weren't. You wish it was easy; you wish everyone liked you and wanted to be your friend, listenin' to all those facts you rattle off like the sun won't ever set. You want all the noise to be so loud that you can't notice anythin' else, distractin' you, keepin' you from knowin' the truth. But here's the secret to livin' life, Sheldon—sometimes, you just gotta be quiet; you gotta listen. You got a big mouth, Son—you can talk with the best of them. But you're only ever gonna learn something when you shut your mouth and listen. The world's a big place. You gotta find some place you can listen. That's the only way to understand why you're here; that's the only way to find your purpose."

"But I want people to like me," he whispered. "I want to have friends. I like talking to all adults, but I want to talk to my peers. I want to have real friends."

Daddy's large hands squeezed him by the shoulders. "I know you do—I want you to have real friends, too. But you ain't gonna have friends for a long time; you ain't gonna find friends here—because no one here wants to be your friend. They already have friends and don't feel like makin' the effort to make another one, especially with a kid half their age. The truth is—they're lazy, don't feel like usin' their minds to see other things. They're kids, Sheldon, and kids are stupid."

"I'm not stupid," Sheldon protested, eyes watering at such a horrifying thought. "I'm not!"

"No, you're not stupid," Daddy agreed, voice soft. "You're too smart for your own good. Sometimes it's nice to be stupid, to not let your mind work so hard to figure things out—to just let things rest and not go thinkin' about how everything's connected or somethin'. Everyone you know here has that mastered like a genius—because there's a lot right in doin' that. But you're different, Sheldon; you live different and think different. And no one understands that. You're never gonna swim with the current; you're gonna swim against it, doin' what no one else does. You're like a salmon. Now maybe when you're older and don't seem so different, you can have friends here once all these kids around you catch up to your maturity. You'll have friends one day, but I don't know when that day will be. And you ain't gonna know, either. You can try to run off every formula you can think of, driving yourself crazy, but you ain't ever gonna know. It's just gonna happen. I know you don't think it now, but you're gonna live a good life; you're gonna have a good life, and no one can ever take it from you—because your life is your life, which you're gonna fight for."

Sheldon ripped himself out of the memory with a pained, choked gasp, hands braced on the truck's hood, dust and grime sticking to his hands; he was perspiring profusely, body quivering with erratic force. He stumbled out of the garage, trying to forget Daddy's words, for they were wrong! His life was never his life, for he never felt in control, despite his imposed order and structure! The emptiness always remained, regardless of his innovative methods to assuage it!

Daddy was wrong!

As the days continued to pass, he avoided the garage with all his conviction—he would never go back! He did not want the memories, least of all of that day! He regretted returning home, for it was undoubtedly the wrong decisions with all the memories swarming him, gnawing at him, attacking him! He had tried putting things in their places, but he had failed!

He always failed—why did he expect to not fail? Why had he been so confident in his abilities when there was nothing but evidence of his failures? How could Daddy have been so disastrously wrong? Why would his memories not die? Why did his memory remain perfect and unscarred despite his repeated burning attempts? Why did nothing help him? Why was logic defying him? What was there only chaos? Not even reading scientific peer-reviewed articles held his attention, though he tried, but it was not enough. Nothing was enough.

His only reprieve was that Mama, Missy, and Meemaw had given him space.

However, Mama eventually glared at him and demanded answers. Recognizing the inevitable, he bartered for time—he vowed to explain himself after he reorganized what few belongings he had brought with him from his apartment. Mama had sensed the innate victory and seized it, calling Missy and her boyfriend—a man who's name Sheldon deigned to never learn as he knew it was a waste of valuable mental wisps of energy—for help. When everything was reorganized from the produced clutter that ravished his mind with its irrationality and instability, he found himself trapped in the kitchen with Mama blocking the ingress.

"Why did you come all this way?" Mama demanded, eyes shining with urgency and adamance. "I know God didn't tell you to come home and give up on everythin' you been workin' for. First, you call and say everythin' was a resoundin' success, but now you won't even talk about it when you should be talkin' my ear off about it. You shouldn't even be here, but you are. What's all this about, Shelly? What happened?"

Sheldon refused to go into specifics but knew he needed to divulge information; he elected for margins instead of depths. "It became apparent to me that there is no place for me in California."

"And you think your place is here? You haven't been back here since your daddy died- "

His jaw clenched, forcing the memories away. "I came to think and reach the discoveries that await me. Things must be in their places. I am imbalanced."

Mama frowned. "Leonard called about you, and I already told him that you've been in touch, like you asked. I lied for you, Shelly, and I don't like lyin'—God doesn't like lyin'. Did Leonard do somethin'?"

Sheldon was not strong enough to prevent his twitch—he did not want to think of Leonard!

"Is that it?" Mama asked, noticing his obvious twitch. "And what about those other two, the Jew and the Mute? And what about your pretty neighbor?"

"Penny," he supplied instinctively, flinching when Mama's eyes sharpened in curiosity; he had revealed something important by his elaboration.

But what was it?

"Right, Penny," she echoed, eyes calculating. "Does this have anything to do with all them?"

Sheldon shook his head, knowing that it had nothing to do with all of them, only three of them. "No. I conducted an assessment and realized an absence is necessary for enlightenment. More calculations are needed; my paradigm is flawed. I must oversee a revolution of my understanding, which will produce the needed revolution in my work. My work is not my life but part of it—I realized that foundational truth nineteen days ago. Things must be in their places. I am imbalanced and seek soothing balance."

Mama smiled slightly, eyes proud. "Sounds to me like God's talkin' to you. Will you listen?"

He flinched as he recalled Daddy's advice about listening. "Absurdity," he dismissed. "My mind is all that I must listen to."

"I don't know what your mind does," she said, patting his arm, and he restrained from flinching, though it was a powerful effort. "I don't know how your mind works. Your daddy and I tried; we prayed and prayed- … well, I prayed and prayed. But you've always been the biggest mystery in my life. I'll do what I can for you, Shelly, but I can't do everything for you like I know you expect me to." Her face flickered with strange emotions as she cleared her throat, eyes roaming his face. "Maybe I shouldn't have coddled you so much. Your daddy and I always fought about how to raise you. I never listened to him. He wanted to be harder on you, wanted to prepare you for living a life, and I didn't want that. I wanted to protect you, but how did I protect you? I never did—because now you're so afraid; you're so scared. You jump at your own shadow—and can barely look your own mother in the eye. What happened to you, Shelly? Where's my son? Where's my boy who used to know how to run and jump, chasin' Missy and runnin' from Gig? Where's my boy who used to smile and laugh, pullin' pranks against Gig? Where's my boy who used to be so passionate and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty? Where's my boy whose beautiful mind wasn't drownin' in fear?"

"I am here," he replied, terrified by how his voice seemed to die, becoming a faint croak. "I stand before you."

Mama's eyes stared up at him; they lacked the usual brightness he associated with them. "No, Shelly, you don't. You're cowerin' right now and have been ever since that day."

Sheldon inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rip his mind apart as the images—the memories!—surged forward past the flimsy barriers he had re-erected. "Stop it," he whispered.

"I miss him, too," she whispered back, hands rubbing his arms; it felt reassuring, reminding him of better times. "He could have a temper as bad as Beelzebub, 'specially when the Cowboys lost, but I miss him; I think about him a lot. Do you?"

"No," Sheldon hissed, adamant, eyes springing open to glare at her. "I never think about him."

Mama looked sad. "When did you become such a good liar, Shelly? I didn't raise a liar. If I didn't know better, I'd say this was drugs talkin' to me."

He flinched. "I'm not lying. I never think about him."

"Then you should," she replied, patting his arm gently before pulling back. "It's been over a month since you got here, and there's hardly been a word outta you. You used to talk all the time, and now you don't talk at all. It's worryin' me. You know what your daddy would say?"

Sheldon blinked, confused; he remembered everything Daddy had ever told him, but he did not see how it applied. "No."

"You can tell your silence to the end of a shotgun."

"That is impossible," he dismissed. "You cannot 'tell silence,' least of all to a shotgun. A shotgun is an inanimate object."

Mama stared up at him. "When did you start doin' that?"

"Doing what?"

"Bein' so literal. You've always been literal, but you used to not be so bad. Why is that?"

Sheldon's felt his eyes twitch. "I cannot say."

Mama snorted. "I can, and I will say it. Ever since that day, you know exactly what one I'm talkin' about, you've been different—even more different than your normal. When your daddy died, it wasn't only him that died—it was you, too."

"I did not die," he corrected, breathing calm—for he forced it. "I am still here- "

"I've thought about that day a lot, Shelly—because that was the day I lost my beautiful boy. That was the day you shut yourself off. You've always been my boy, but that was the day you decided that you didn't wanna be mine—because you didn't wanna be anyone's. You didn't wanna feel anything or be connected. You used to smile and laugh before that day, even when your daddy and I weren't smiling much."

Sheldon tried to remain calm but knew he failed on how his body tightened in response. "That is irrelevant- "

"You may be able to lie to that block-headed mind of yours, but you can't lie to me—and you can't lie to God."

"My mind is not block-headed," he defended, indignant. "I am a genius who- "

Mama looked unimpressed. "Do you remember yourself runnin' 'round here, naked?"

Sheldon gasped, horrified. "Of course not. I never engaged in such behavior!"

"Yes, you did—'cause I remember it. There's always gonna be stuff you won't know because you can only know what your years give you. I'm always gonna have decades on you."

"Your knowledge is less than mine," he dismissed. "My I.Q. is 187."

Mama's brows rose, knowing. "Then why'd you ever get so imbalanced?"

Sheldon did not have an adequate answer to her withering question. "I do not know," he confessed, ashamed. "I do not know as much as I thought."

"Maybe you should talk to Gig; he'd love to see you."

He felt his nostrils flare. "He would love to see me beneath him, kicking and screaming in wrath."

Mama only rolled her eyes. "You know you ain't the same boy you was. Why would Gig be the same boy he was? You were just sayin' your I.Q. is so high—start thinkin' like it."

"He tormented me- "

"You gave as good as you got—maybe more. He still talks about that Cowboys stunt. Makin' him think they moved away's probably the meanest thing you ever done." Her eyes narrowed in suspicious evaluation as she eyed him. "It better be the meanest thing you ever done."

Sheldon felt surprising fondness from the memory—a first since returning home. "I do not want to talk to him," he decided, adamant. "We have nothing to say to each other. Our quarterly phone calls are sufficient."

She sighed in resigned regret. "He told me about those. You don't ever tell him anythin'. All you do is talk about the Cowboys with him."

"It is the only subject he is intelligent in."

Mama shook her head. "He may surprise you."

"Unlikely," he dismissed. "My calculations illuminated his simple- "

"You can't look at the world through calculations, Shelly," Mama interrupted, watching him. "And you can't understand people through calculations. Now, why haven't your friends come and gotten you?"

Sheldon tensed as he realized Mama had retreated and conducted a pincer movement, attacking him from one side while exploiting the other, preying on the imbalanced weakness. "They are not my friends."

She frowned. "That's a mean thing to say- "

"It does not make it less true," he defended, trying not to clench his fists, but it happened despite his mandate. "There is nothing more to discuss. You understand nothing of my work and the academic and scholarly expectations to which I devoted my life."

"Devoted?" she echoed in alarm, realizing he used the past tense. "You changin' careers?"

Sheldon was quiet for several moments, thinking about his overwhelming apathy and lethargy when reading the scientific peer-reviewed articles since returning home—since the Arctic sabotage administered by the Betrayers. "I have elected for a temporary cessation. I must find answers, and I will find them regardless of the time necessary to obtain- "

"What happened, Sheldon?" Mama asked, voice serious, eyes probing. "You holdin' it in like this ain't gonna do you any good. You know how you get. You can tell me."

"I am not ready," he said after several long moments. "Only when I secure enlightenment will I be able to explain all chronological events intelligently."

"Fine. But you're gonna answer me one thing, and I mean really answer it. No excuses."

Recognizing the stubborn tilt in her face, he sighed. "Which is?"

"When are you gonna shave that animal off your face?" Mama demanded, glaring at him. "It's hidin' the beautiful face God gave you."

Sheldon frowned, unsure why he possessed such a powerful keening not to shave; he had not shaved since his return from the Arctic. The goatee was much thicker, and the beard connection was more prominent, beginning to thicken. "But God gave me my beard."

"Don't you misquote me! And mock me! You're startin' to look like a heathen!"

"Did you know that the word heathen stems from- "

Mama held up her hands with an alarmed look on her face. "No, no, none of that. Go outside and tell it to someone who wants to listen."

Sheldon frowned, quizzical. "There is no one outside- "

"Exactly. I don't have time for the history of the world."

"It is the history of a word- "

"Out!"

Sheldon exited the house dutifully and was unable to prevent himself from approaching the garage and opening it. Sunlight spilled over Daddy's truck, revealing his uneven, sliding handprints in the dust and grime on the hood. His hands began to tingle in memory, and he suppressed any instinct to touch the hood again with ruthless precision.

His revolution was taking longer than expected; he thought he would be able to put things in their places swiftly upon finding sanctuary at home. He had always been prodigious at anything he devoted his mind to, particularly with systemic connections and depths. His only failure was in deciphering human interactions and the numerous complexities involved that even his intellect could not comprehend. But he had failed again—and again and again, as his memories reminded him.

When memories of Daddy burned his sanity, he began to panic and grabbed his phone, thinking of someone who knew success where he struggled. Desperate, he dialed the numbers he memorized years ago and put the phone to his ear, hearing its rhythmic signal for several seconds before it ended abruptly, replaced by a harmony impossibly but beautifully different.

"Sheldon?"

"Hello, Penny," he greeted, voice not as strong as he dictated; it was softer, and he could not figure out why. He also could not figure out why he continued speaking softly. "According to my calculations, your shift concluded forty-seven minutes ago, which means you are free to converse. Was I missing data to reach an accurate conclusion?"

"No, no," Penny rushed out, and it released a tension he had been unaware he felt. "I'd love to talk. I've missed you so much. How are you?"

"I am able."

"Sweetie, if you were actually 'able,' I think you'd be back."

Sheldon hesitated, watching the sun cascade over the truck's hood; he recalled how Penny's golden hair radiated under the sun's light, looking alive, afire with energy—a physical beauty that he could reach out, touch, and hold. "Has your social schedule been restored by my absence?"

She accepted the topic change, which relieved him. "I've seen a few old friends, yeah, but they're old; they became old for a reason, you know. The only friends I'm interested in having are the ones I keep in touch with all the time. That's why I'm so glad you called. I've been worried about you. I even sang Soft Kitty for you, hoping you'd hear it."

His eyes widened, and he glanced around, ensuring he was alone, confirming that Mama or Missy had not heard Penny's bizarre practice. "Soft Kitty is for when I am sick. I am not sick, Penny."

Penny tsked, audible to his ears through the phone. "I think your heart's sick, Sheldon."

"That is impossible- "

"You should listen to it," she encouraged, undeterred by his infallible logic—as was her fascinating but perplexing pattern. "Maybe your heart's not as smart as your mind, but I guarantee you that it's bigger."

Sheldon frowned. "The maxim, 'bigger is better' correlates to intellectually capacity in specific quantities, but it has nothing to do with the heart. Emotions come from the mind, not the heart."

Penny laughed slightly. "Then how come you haven't been able to nip them in the bud like you want to? If emotions come from the mind, why don't you just rip those strings out? The adamantium ones, right?"

His pulse accelerated at her correct, clever, and elegant recollection of Wolverine's bone-coated substance. "Correct."

"Exactly," she agreed, voice light but serious. It was an intriguing combination. "Why can't you just cut those out? Why can't your mind find its 'weak areas' and dispose of them or something, being all efficient and stuff? No, it's something else, Sheldon—it all comes from somewhere else, a place where the mind can't do anything."

Sheldon found himself unable to refute her absurd claim, which distressed him; he attributed it to her foreign, unfamiliar genius. "I find that intolerable."

"Maybe you got to stop getting stuck in your head," Penny suggested, voice kind and warm. "I think it's time you let your mind rest for a little while. When's the last time you turned your mind off?"

"My mind never rests- "

"But it should, Sheldon. Let your mind rest. Maybe your next discovery is waiting for you."

"That is why I must find it- "

"You need a fresh set of eyes—a fresh mind—to find it. You need to take a break. Not even you can go forever; you have to take breaks."

Sheldon was quiet for several moments, jaw clenched, confused by her persuasive, impressive reasoning. "I do not need rest; I need answers."

"What if the only way to get those answers is by resting?"

"That is absurd; there is no correlation."

Penny laughed. "Then why do you always go on about your peaceful REM cycles? You've always wanted to find answers, but you've also always rested when you needed to rest. Why won't you do it now? You can't have your cake and eat it, too, Sheldon."

"My mother is fond of that accursed colloquialism," he muttered.

"Because it's true, and you like the truth. The truth is all that matters, right?"

Silence.

"Right?" Penny emphasized, sounding amused.

Sheldon sighed. "Right," he confirmed. "I will take a break."

"Exactly. Sometimes, the truth has to come to you; you can't always find the truth—it has to find you."

"I do not understand why that is."

"It's just living your life," she explained with a confidence that fascinated him. "It's how it is for everyone. The truth is bigger than any one person, right? That means that it has to come find you; you can't find it because you're not big enough to find it."

Sheldon frowned. "You possess a disconcerting illogical logic."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"It must be your baffling genius," he continued. "You see things and make connections that even my intellect cannot. The only explanation is your subtle intelligence is founded upon an innate genius only you comprehend."

He did not know how he knew, but he knew that Penny was smiling. "I'm definitely going to take that as a compliment."

"As you should," Sheldon commended. "I have encountered many people in my life. There is only one I call a friend."

Silence.

"Thank you for your letter," Penny said softly, voice tight with emotion. "It was the best letter I've ever read."

"Naturally," Sheldon agreed. "My command and grasp of the English language is- "

She laughed slightly. "It had nothing to do with your 'command and grasp of the English language' and everything to do with you—it was just you, Sheldon. You were honest and showed me a lot; you trusted me to share all that—thank you. It means a lot. And by the way—I love you, too."

Sheldon nodded. "You should," he approved. "There are many lovable traits about me. Perhaps I could compose a questionnaire and see if our answers align. Thus, it would prove whether or not we actually love each other."

Penny sighed into the phone; it sounded like one of Mama's—fond. "I think your letter already has that covered."

He felt intrigued. "I see. Do you plan to write a letter, as well?"

"How about weekly phone calls, instead?" she suggested.

Sheldon pondered her proposal and accepted it after several moments of thought. "Very well. It is nice to hear your voice. Of course, I remember your voice and how it sounds; I remember everything I remember, that which I focused on in each moment of my life. However, hearing your voice in the moment is more powerful, impactful, and significant than hearing your voice in my memories."

Penny's voice sounded strange. "Are you saying you 'focused on' me?"

He blinked. "Of course. Why would I not? I never focused on all of you, but I focused on you."

"It never seemed like you focused on me; it seemed like you thought I was a nuisance."

"I did not want to focus on you, but since your invasion, there you have been. You started at the periphery, initially. Somehow, you reoriented, propelled yourself with momentum, and landed much closer to my orbit—and, thus, I to your orbit. Despite my best, extensive efforts, I became a moth lured by your flame—it bemuses me. I thought you were the death knell in my life, the harbinger of destruction to my order, structure, and logic, but there has been no destruction facilitated by you, only the Betrayers. Yet, I was correct—you were a knell in my life. Your invasion resulted in the end of one age of my life and the beginning of another. My error was calculating initially that the age before your invasion was better than the age after your invasion. It is an error I will not make again. You are destruction and rebirth wrapped into one—Chaos itself. It is fascinating. You fascinate me. I hold no qualms in making a phone call a ritual between us."

"How about calling it an 'arrival' instead of an 'invasion'?" Penny asked, voice thick and wavering; she sounded breathless.

His eyes widened in dismay at her emotional response. "Have I upset you?"

"No," she rushed out, voice sounding more normal. "It's just… you make me feel important. Nobody's ever really done that—I mean, besides my parents, you know."

Sheldon was quiet for several moments, mind trying to decipher the correct response. Based on his previous encounters with Penny, a subtle but intellectual presentation should be adequate. "You are like Loki in Norse Mythology. You destroy the old paradigm to create the rebirth of a greater age where all things are possible. You have pointed out many things to me about my previous paradigm that are unacceptable now; I must be reborn, and you have conveyed it to me. You were the signifier of a new age in my life—one in which all things are possible. Finally, I will have things in their places, and one day, I will return in triumph to claim my Nobel—because of your input in my life. Thank you, Penny."

"So, your life is better because I'm in it?"

Sheldon blinked, confused. "That is what I just said."

Penny laughed, sounding light and content; it thrilled something inside him, freed from the chains of his order and structure. "Well, my life's better because you're in it, too. I'm glad we'll make this a 'ritual.' Have you ever had a ritual with someone else before?"

He paused, memories flashing through his mind. "Not willingly."

"What do you mean?"

"I was tormented daily with physical violence," he recalled. "It became a ritual enforced on me. I could never fight back; I tried, but my small stature prevented it."

"But you've always been tall- "

"Skipping grades enhances physical disparities over the years. I could never fight boys in puberty while I was seven years old."

Penny was quiet for several moments. "I'm sorry," she whispered, sounding pained. "I hope you gave them hell."

Sheldon's lips twitched in a forgotten smile. "My brother did, and I watched."

"Sounds like your brother loves you."

"Perhaps," he admitted. "When he was done relieving them of their 'snot,' he let me knock on their heads three times each. I may have also kicked them while they were down."

Penny laughed. "'May have'?"

"I have been told that I must not admit to crimes without presented evidence."

"I don't call that a crime; I call that a good, deserved ass-kicking."

"Daddy agreed; he was proud when I told him. And Gig refused to desist from speaking about it. He demanded that I 'be more obnoxious than usual' to give us more opportunities to 'kick ass.' We succeeded."

"I'd like to meet your brother one day; he kind of sounds like Tommy. But Tommy probably would have kicked his own ass instead of someone else's."

Sheldon frowned. "That is impossible."

"Figure of speech—a colloquialism."

"Ahh, I understand."

"How is your family?"

"Nosy," he answered instinctively. "They distract me from my quest to find answers."

Penny was quiet for several moments. "You know, you may only find answers through them."

Sheldon gasped. "That is a horrifying conception, Penny! All of their I.Q.s combined equal mine!"

She laughed. "Well, this isn't about science or the universe or anything, right? It's about living your life. Something tells me they have more experience living their lives than you do living yours. Hell, I have way more experience living mine. Why don't you ask me questions? I swear if you mention 'community college' I'm going to reach through this phone and- "

"I do not ask you questions due to your violent impulses," he interrupted, amused slightly. "Case in point."

"Sounds like your brother's way more violent than I could be. Maybe you could be, too."

He avoided her last point, not knowing why. "Why do you think I have avoided meeting him?"

"You haven't seen your brother?" Penny asked, surprised. "Why?"

"His only intelligent expertise lies in football. I have no interest in discussing the same complaints again—for the ninety-first time."

"Ninety-first?" she echoed, shocked. "What are you talking about?"

Sheldon blinked. "It is how many phone calls Gig and I have had since I left home. We correspond approximately once a quarter. He dominates the conversation, which is only ever about a dozen minutes or so. Sometimes, he calls me unexpectedly during a call-free month in an outrage when the Cowboys humiliate themselves—and, thus, according to Gig, humiliate him."

Penny sounded painfully confused. "But why not go see him?"

"It would not be beneficial."

"What's the real reason?"

"There is no- "

"Sheldon."

"He resembles Daddy."

Silence.

He was horrified he had admitted it, but Penny only sounded sympathetic. "Maybe Gig misses your dad as much as you do. You'll only know if you talk to him."

"You begin to resemble Missy and Mama's nosiness," he pointed out, voice tight and dark. "I demand you desist."

"Okay," Penny said, sounding sad but understanding; it was unique. "If you ever want to talk, I'm game."

"We are talking now."

"If you ever want to talk about your dad, I'm game."

"Game?"

"I'm willing."

Sheldon nodded. "I do not anticipate accepting your offer, but I commend you for its benevolent nature. Your friendship is notable."

"As is everything about me," she added with what he knew impossibly was a smirk.

"There are many admirable traits you possess," he agreed.

Penny was quiet for several moments, and rather than her voice, he heard the wind rustle through the garage and felt as it brushed over him, leaving an eternal trail. "Do you think you'll come back?"

Sheldon frowned. "Why?"

"I want you to see my admirable traits in-person," she replied, voice containing a weight and presence that he could not decipher, despite his broad intellectual efforts. "The real thing's better than what's in your memory."

He felt proud of himself when he pieced the clues together. "Do you miss seeing me?"

"Of course, I do."

"There is nothing memorable about my appearance," he pointed out, confused. "My only value lies in my intelligence. Speaking over the phone in a weekly ritual will suffice to satisfy you."

Penny unleashed a combination of a sigh and laugh. "Sweetie, whoever said there's nothing memorable about your appearance is a liar."

"I said it."

"Then you're a liar," she said with an authority that mystified him. "The truth is all that matters, right? Well, you have a package that's nice. Your mind is just the cherry on top. It can be too tart for some, and it was for a while with me, but I've found that's it right in my sweet spot."

Sheldon's brows furrowed at her vulgar colloquialism, which Wolowitz had used often. "You have never seen my 'package.' How can you assert such an absurdity?"

"Because I have eyes," Penny drawled in explanation.

"You have never seen me naked."

Silence.

Penny laughed suddenly. "No, no, I don't mean that package; I mean the whole of you, like your whole body is a package—it's the package around your mind."

Sheldon nodded in approval. "Because my mind is a gift to mankind," he deduced. "Excellent imagery, Penny."

"Sure," she agreed with amusement. "But when do you think you'll come back?"

He was quiet for several moments, unsure. "I cannot say," he said at last. "When I return, it would only be for my work. However, I have realized that my work is not as important as I thought—it cannot be. I would have to return for something more, though I do not know what."

"Friendship?"

Sheldon's brows furrowed. "You allude to me returning out of my friendship with you?"

"Not now, but I'd like to see you again," Penny defended. "I miss seeing you. I mean, you're gone for months in the Arctic, and then you're back for a day, and then you're gone again. It's been a long time since I've really seen you, you know?"

He felt uncomfortable by the reminder of the Arctic. "You did not miss me during the expedition; you missed Leonard."

"Why would you say that?" she asked, unimpressed and disbelieving.

"Leonard said so while we were at the Arctic, and the others agreed with him."

Penny groaned and hissed simultaneously; it was a fascinating sound. "I missed all of you, and yeah, I did miss him, but I missed you, too. Really, I missed what I thought Leonard was, but now that I know what he is, I don't really miss him. But I've always missed you—because I know the real you."

"No one knows the real me," he pointed out, recalling Daddy's observations. "No one understands me; no one has and no one will."

"I think I'm starting to," she replied, undeterred. "I used to think that you didn't have emotions, and that's what the guys said. But the more I spent time with you, the more I realized how deeply you feel emotions. You may feel emotions more than anyone I know."

Sheldon's eyes widened in outrage. "How dare you- "

"Doesn't that balance you out with your powerful logic?"

He hesitated, annoyed by her persuasion. "I suppose."

"And you told me that you hate emotions, which is an emotion in and of itself."

Sheldon withered, devastated. "I know."

"But you can only hate emotions if you know emotions—if you have emotions. I'm guessing you have a lot of emotions. And how emotional do you have to be to hate your own emotions? You have to be more emotional than anyone I've ever heard of. You've always been emotional, Sheldon—it's okay. There's nothing wrong with it- "

"Wrong," he judged in finality. "Emotions are the worst affliction known to Man. I would be radically more efficient and logical without Emotion's chains shackling me to weakness and indignity, suffocating me in mediocrity."

"Sounds like you're being emotional right now—angry."

He realized that his fists were clenched and cursed her genius—it was the only explanation as to how she knew! "That does not disprove my conclusion."

Penny exhaled roughly. "Sheldon, it's good that you have emotions; it's amazing. Aren't you angry that the guys sabotaged you?"

"Yes."

"See? That's some serious anger right there. Isn't that a good thing? If you weren't angry, it'd just be evidence that you aren't human- "

"I don't want to be human!" he exclaimed, beginning to pace before Daddy's truck, which blasted him with painful, strength-depleting memories. "Mankind is wretched! What else are we? We crawl out of the mud, run around naked, spit and shit everywhere, and are enslaved to the stupid emotions acting as parasites within us! Emotion is a plague that weakens bonds and harms sustainment in which your judgment shifts from one position to the next, chasing whims and impulses born of unreliable, deceiving emotions, foregoing intelligence in favor of disdain and contempt! I look to Nature for guidance—I always have—but Nature is without Emotion, for Nature is supreme! Nature does not shift positions, chasing whims and impulses like the most disgusting of simpletons! I must be like Nature! I must be rational and never change, which is all Emotion does! Mankind is too stupid to understand it! We are stupid! We live frivolous, petty lives, pursuing wantonness instead of discovery and truth before we curl up and deteriorate back into the mud! It is absurdity! It the animal's curse! We are more than that! We must be, lest all that we do be trapped in futility and meaningless!"

Penny was silent for a long time, seemingly stunned, and Sheldon realized he was heaving in gulps of air, heart racing. "Spit and shit?" she asked finally, voice breathless.

Sheldon scratched his face, uncomfortable. "Daddy would say that a lot."

"Would he agree with what you think?"

He flinched. "No. But though he possessed intelligence, it was not in staggering abundance like my own."

"Your dad accepted being human, and it sounds to me like he accepted you. I don't think many people have done that in your life."

Sheldon cringed, almost jumping in pain at her sympathetic, knowing observation. "Seven people have accepted me in my life as I am for me, not out of obligation, selfishness, or cunning ploys. Daddy, Mama, Gig, Missy, Meemaw, Pop-Pop, and you."

He heard Penny swallow through the phone. "And do you know how we accepted you, how all of us have accepted you?"

"Because you recognize I am superior- "

"Because of emotion, Sheldon," Penny interrupted, voice soft but firm. "It's been out of love, the biggest emotion of all. You can think we're wretches who spit and shit everywhere, going from one thing to the next out of the unreliable, deceiving emotions inside us, but you're never going to believe it. You're like us, and that's okay—you're one of us."

"I despise living with the indignity of being born of Mankind; I would rather be a Vulcan—or a latent Kryptonian."

Penny sighed. "And I'd rather be doing something other than waitressing with my life; I'd rather you be back here with me; I'd rather my teenage years weren't so rough; I'd rather my siblings and I got along better and had more in common; and I'd rather the world be what I make it than what it is. We can't have everything, Sheldon—no one can."

Sheldon shuddered. "Daddy always said if you had everything, you would have nothing left."

"Exactly," Penny praised, sounding impressed. "Your dad knew his stuff—knew what he was talking about. Being human can be awful sometimes because we're aware, you know."

"Sentient," he supplied.

"Yeah. It can be awful because of it, but it's the best thing ever because we're sentient, too. I don't know where my life's going; I don't know if I'm going to succeed in my goals; and I don't know if I'm going to get anywhere. But I love it anyway; I love looking forward to things and being human—and being human means dreaming. We're both dreamers, Sheldon, and I love that you're a dreamer."

"I am not a dreamer!" he denied, affronted. "Dreamers are irrational fools whose heads are so full of air that when they are decapitated everyone else breathes easier!"

"Thanks," she drawled.

"It is the truth!"

"Then why do you think about getting a Nobel?"

"Because it is the logical conclusion of my work."

Penny sounded unimpressed. "How do you know?"

Sheldon blinked, hesitating before shaking his head. "My intelligence and drive- "

"You don't know if your work is good enough to earn a Nobel," Penny interrupted. "You don't know; you can think it is or hope it is, but you don't know. You have no idea whatsoever that you'll get a Nobel. No, you dream about getting a Nobel because you're a dreamer, and I love that about you. And I believe you're going to get that Nobel one day, whenever it is."

"Thank you, Penny," he whispered, grateful for her belief; it was irrational, certainly, but he loved her belief in him. No one had ever believed in him except Daddy, Mama, Meemaw, and Pop-Pop. But there was a difference with Penny, one not related to the primal calling of the blood, the most ancient and compelling of connections. "I believe you will obtain success in your endeavors one day if you only apply yourself."

"Thanks, Sheldon," she whispered back, voice containing elements he was unfamiliar with. "I'll make a deal with you. We'll both be there when we get our dreams—how about it?"

Sheldon blinked, considering her proposal before nodding. "I accept, though I refuse to ever share credit. Do not expect your revolution in my life to appear in my theorems."

"Just don't expect me to dedicate any of my performances to you."

"I accept your modification."

Penny laughed. "I think we can reach our dreams pretty quick. So much has just changed recently—so much. Why can't more change? Why can't we suddenly get on the right path to get our dreams?"

"The pendulum will return," Sheldon observed, feeling hollow. "This is a new extreme in which we must accomplish all that we can until we smash into a new extreme, going back and forth with less speed until we finally reach a blessed equilibrium—soothing balance. This is what I had always tried to avoid, but I failed. Your invasion was so sudden and disruptive it emanated in powerful ripples that slammed into the pendulum, beginning its long sway."

"I'm sorry you think that I've ruined everything, but I didn't. You can't blame- "

"Your invasion was a good thing," he interrupted. "But I am trying to adjust. I have had to realize many things recently, which eviscerated my balance. Yet, I thought I was always balanced before your invasion. However, you provoked the realization that I never was, which crumbles the balance I thought I had. It is madness."

"Still, I'm sorry," she whispered gently.

Sheldon swallowed, hands starting to tremble slightly. "I am tired of feeling empty," he confessed, voice hoarse. "I am sick of it. It is the most unflattering sensation to ever experience. I suspect it is what death feels like."

But Daddy had not looked empty until he died, not as he was dying.

Thankfully, Penny pierced through the haze of memories coalescing around him in a noxious smoke thick enough to choke on. "You won't always feel empty. You need to start being human; be a man, Sheldon. You can't deny what you are forever. I think you're empty exactly because you've been hating what you are for so long."

"I do not know how to not hate what I am," Sheldon admitted, ashamed.

"Take as long as you need," Penny added kindly; there was a seriousness in her voice. "But you're going to get there. I know what it means to go somewhere new- "

"This is not a new place."

"What it means to go somewhere else and try to start over and find the truth—undergo a rebirth. And that's what you're doing. Take as much time as you need. Let the truth come to you."

"That is painful," Sheldon whispered, voice pained. "The orientation is unexpected; it is random and could strike like lightning. If I search for it, I am in control; I know what I am doing and am prepared for the rupture."

"But you weren't prepared for the truth of the Arctic, which came to you, not the other way around," Penny said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Sheldon. I could shoot your crossbow bolts into Leonard's door if you want. Then I could use the money you gave me to pay for a new door."

Sheldon blinked, grateful for the distraction. "Did you buy any shoes with your additional funds?"

"No."

"I do not believe you."

"Fine, only one pair," Penny confessed. "But that was it—I swear."

Sheldon leaned back against Daddy's truck, resting on the bumper's lip. "And the check engine- "

"It's on my to-do list."

"What is more important than fixing that?" he demanded, aghast. "That is a matter of life-and-death!"

Penny sighed into the phone. "I'm taking acting classes—better ones. I mean, I haven't started yet, but that's what I'm going to do. I want to get serious, you know? That's my plan. I've already signed up."

"I commend you. Education is a serious endeavor not for everyone, but you possess the needed attributes to excel—if only you apply yourself."

"That's very sweet- "

"It is accurate."

"In its sweetness?"

"In its logic."

Penny hummed. "If you say so. By the time you come back, I'll get you admitting that you're sweet."

Sheldon's brows pinched. "That is absurd. I am not sweet."

"You're lying," she said with a musical quality to her voice. "I'll get you to admit it by the time you come back. Every time we call, doing our ritual, I'll chip at that ice until it comes crumbling down."

At the reminder of their newfound ritual, he found that he anticipated it without dread; there was an excitement, contentment, and pleasure.

Fascinating.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Penny fell into a certain rhythm in the six weeks since Sheldon had been gone, one that annoyed her because she didn't actually want it; it just reminded her of how everything had gone wrong so quickly. When the guys were all gone at the Arctic, she had made do and done things to not feel so lonely. It had surprised her, actually. With them gone so long, she realized how much she had come to rely on their company, even if they could annoy her to no end. She had reconnected with old friends, but none of it seemed real.

To quote Sheldon, it all seemed frivolous. Being friends with the guys had changed her, and she couldn't look at her old friends the same way—because she didn't like remembering who she was with them. She had learned over time that you become who your friends are, changing yourself to be more accepted and likeable, murdering parts of yourself to satisfy the judgments of your friends. She had definitely done it, sleeping around and partying and drinking because it was the cool thing to do—it's what was expected of her as the hot blonde. But she had done it in different ways, too, focusing more on acting and looking to roles that everyone else was looking to. She started focusing on fame and riches because that's what everyone was doing and said she should be doing; she looked at film acting and turned from her passion, from the source of it.

What had gotten her so interested in acting had been reading Shakespeare in high school, being part of those amazing stories that changed her life and made her see things so much clearer. She had managed to play a part in one of her high school's play, Romeo and Juliet, which made her fall in love with acting. But when all her friends said she had to go to Hollywood and make it big there, she had listened, turning her attention from her passion to a distortion of it.

It was why she was so willing to leave Nebraska with Kurt—because she was following what others told her she should do or needed to do. She had never decided to do what she wanted to do, which had to be the explanation for why nothing had ever come of her life, right? It had to be why she felt unfulfilled and empty; it had to be why she regretted so much. She had been a puppet, living according to the judgments of her friends, who pulled her strings and directed her to do what they wanted, never what she wanted. She had only come to California because she thought her friends knew what they were talking about—and there were certainly parts of fame and riches that appealed to her. But was it ever actually what she wanted?

No.

When was the last time she had read Shakespeare? When was the last time she had found enjoyment in acting, a real performance in which there were powerful stakes, mimicking life? It had been so long—too long. She needed to go back to her roots—it was the only option. She needed to find what she actually wanted and find enjoyment and pleasure again. She needed to clip the strings that her friends had attached to her and be free from her puppet masters, even if there was never any cruel or malicious intent by her friends.

It's what she needed to do—and she already had! Her first acting classes—real acting classes—had made her feel the fire again for the first time in a long time; it made her feel alive, so much more than she had when listening to her friends and living according to their judgments.

But now she was starting to wonder if the same had happened to Sheldon? Had hanging around Leonard, Howard, and Raj changed him, made him pull away parts of himself or smother them to fit into the group more, to meet the acceptable criteria? It made too much sense with his undying questions about social cues and obligation, what literally was acceptable and what wasn't. What if he had applied that to his friendships with Leonard, Howard, and Raj, recognizing that the only way to fit in was to murder parts of himself, never letting those parts slip through? Because the guy she had spent time talking to and texting, while still holding his unique Sheldon-ness, wasn't nearly as awkward, quiet, or hesitant as she was used to. It was like the layers he had cultivated since moving to California—or was it from when he had moved away from home?—had melted away under the Texas sun, revealing who he actually is.

She certainly liked who he actually is.

She got used to thinking about all of them as a group—where one was the other three were in her mind. One thought always contained the group of them, never the individuals. Even when they were at the Arctic, she thought of them together, never truly thinking about any of them in singular way with an individual focus. But now she was and found herself thinking about Sheldon a lot.

How could she think about or look at the others, who saw a hot blonde, when Sheldon had called her a genius and revolution, holding her in such esteem that he said she possessed a genius beyond him? How could she think about the guys she used to date, or their type, when Sheldon had been more honest than anyone she had ever met? How could she go back to simplicity when she had had a taste of complexity? She could never go back to how things were before when things didn't matter to her as much because she didn't care.

But now she cared a lot more, and it was the greatest irony in her life—Sheldon, the guy who hated emotions and everything, had been the one to teach her how to care. She realized that Sheldon had kind of wooed her unintentionally—without even trying! Sure, he could be an enormous pain in the ass sometimes, but he never actually insulted her—he just stated facts to him that were obvious. There was never any cruelty in his heart or anything. At first, she thought he never knew if he was being insulting, but she had learned over time that if he was actually insulting someone, he eventually jumped to the conclusion of how superior he was—every single time. But even then, he had never insulted her as she had seen him insult other people, even Leonard, Howard, and Raj. Rather, he insulted her education, not her herself—and, to be fair, community college was worth insulting from his perspective, absolutely.

It surprised her how much she had been thinking about him—and in such a short time. It had never happened to her before. She thought she knew the system—she really was thinking about him too much, thinking about everything in terms of systems and structures!—of what was supposed to happen once she recognized how much she valued him and had come to love him, but it was obvious that she didn't know anything. It actually started to scare her a little bit because she was unsure if she had ever reached that point before—and it was about Sheldon of all guys! With all her old boyfriends, even Kurt, it was different; it felt like a different rhythm. She felt 'further along' with Sheldon somehow than she had with any of her past boyfriends—and they weren't even dating! She didn't know what to do about it. It was now something new rather than familiar. She had gone to the store and bought all new underwear, for pete's sake! Even when eating, she thought about him, wondering what he was doing, how he was doing, texting him, pleasantly happy when he texted her back, despite his critiquing of her texting grammar, and wondering if he would pick up when she called or just wait for their weekly phone call!

She didn't know what to do; she just missed him. It all happened so fast. When he returned from the Arctic and turned to her for support, showing her more of him in an act of trust—even love—and fascinating her, she felt an actual connection; she almost felt like she was seeing him for the first time. Sure, she had always seen snippets of him, things that slipped through when he wasn't paying attention or distracted, but then she had seen so much more—and she felt a connection. She found that she really liked Sheldon and enjoyed him—she always had, but now it was different. She wanted to keep seeing him and feeling that connection; she wanted to build on it, if possible, with him.

But then he was gone again just like that without any warning, stranding her with everything that she felt; there was no conclusion or resolution or closure or anything. It was annoying.

His letter had been helpful—she memorized it after four days—for those first weeks until he called her, and the texts and phone calls were nice. But she wanted to see him in-person; she wanted to see if his crazy had rubbed off on her because she recognized where her thoughts were going about him.

She was attracted to Sheldon and since she already loved him, it just put everything together in an insane bubble that she was trapped in—because she couldn't talk to anyone who could actually help. She kept thinking about him. She was prepared for a longer process or something. She thought she knew the system, how she would feel, how her feelings would grow. But she clearly didn't know anything! But it all snuck up on her like Frodo wearing the Ring, which she learned from Sheldon! She kept thinking about him! She wasn't supposed to be feeling this way, constantly thinking about him, trying to figure out if he'd like something or not when they weren't even dating—and she hadn't even slept with him, either! It was never supposed to happen! It blew her socks right off! Because it's Sheldon—Sheldon!

She had thought about asking Missy for help since Missy actually knew Sheldon, but she wasn't sure if Missy would tell Sheldon; she was friends with her on Facebook, but she wasn't actually friends-friends with Missy, not yet anyway. And even if she wasn't pissed as hell at the guys for sabotaging Sheldon, she still wouldn't ever talk to them about it, and it's not like she could talk to Sheldon about it. He'd probably be horrified, condemning her emotions as weakness because he hated emotion, calling it Man's scourge.

He might actually like her less if she told him, and she didn't want that; she wasn't ready for that.

Her only option seemed to be stoic silence and endurance, refusing to ever broach the subject with Sheldon on their weekly phone calls. The acting classes helped a lot, cleared a lot of the air suffocating her, but it always came back. She felt alone, trapped in a bubble of loneliness since she realized that she actually didn't have any real friends in her life—except for Sheldon, who, despite his claims to the contrary, understood friendship a lot more than he gave himself credit for.

Maybe that was why she was giving serious thought to accepting Leonard's offer to come over to his apartment. When she had come back from her latest acting class, she had found him, Howard, and Raj waiting outside her apartment—they clearly had been sitting there for a while, two on the stairs leading to the next floor and one leaning back against her new door. They scrambled to their feet when they saw her. Once, she would have thought it was sweet and endearing, but it only annoyed her now—if not angered him.

They asked her to join them for pizza night like it was old times, wearing her down; she already felt emotionally worn from the acting classes and thinking about Sheldon. Desperate and feeling isolated, she agreed to join the guys—like it used to be. But Sheldon wouldn't be there, and she knew that none of the others would be willing to talk about him or apologize for what they did to him.

But still, she was desperate and decided to go—against her better judgment.

When she entered Leonard's apartment later, she was struck immediately by wrongness—because Howard sat in Sheldon's spot. But Penny grit her teeth and tried to make the best of it, though anger blazed in her heart. She didn't exactly trust them, but she knew they wouldn't do anything; it would probably be awkward but nothing more. And she could do with some awkwardness rather than feeling lonely.

But they were the ones who had made her feel alone in the first place, driving Sheldon away.

"It's good to see you, Penny," Leonard greeted with a warm smile, eyes bright with joy behind his glasses. "Go ahead and grab a slice."

Penny sat on the far end of the couch, putting distance between herself and Raj; she grabbed a slice and ate it robotically. "Thanks for the invite," she drawled, not meaning it.

Leonard looked relieved. "Good. I hate how this has all come between us. We've missed having you around."

It was very difficult not to ask if they've all missed having Sheldon around, but she smiled tightly instead. "I miss how things used to be," she replied. But what she didn't say is that things could ever go back to how they were—while they all clearly believed they could. "It's good pizza."

It was actually just alright.

Howard's brows rose at her. "So, what have you been up to the past weeks? We haven't really seen you for months." Raj whispered in Howard's ear, to which Howard sighed. "How is life treating a goddess?"

Penny normally would have been flattered, but too much had changed. "I've been staying busy."

"Still waitressing?"

She grit her teeth. "Yes. But I'm taking more acting classes. I have more of a plan now."

One that didn't include any of them as of now.

"That's nice," Leonard commented, and she realized immediately that he—that none of them—took her seriously. They were just putting up with her dream but thought it was stupid. It was exactly like they had treated Sheldon. "When are your classes?"

"I've been going every day, been studying my ass off. I'm getting serious about it."

Howard chuckled. "Sounds to me like you're working off some pent-up energy. Haven't got laid in a while, have you?"

Penny glared at him. "That's the last time you're going to ever talk about me and sex in the same sentence. Got it?"

"What about in the same paragraph?"

"You're on thin ice," she warned. "It's going to break one day, I'll be under it, waiting. And don't even think about going back to the Arctic. I know how you hated it there."

Howard's color waned, and he chuckled awkwardly. "Then I'll need to get some liquid nitrogen."

"Don't 'science' your way out of this," Penny threatened, pointing her pizza at him in condemnation. "It doesn't work for Sheldon, so why do you think it'd work for you?"

Raj winced, eyes wide, and Howard was speechless, face a mixture of anger and embarrassment; the anger won out. "I'll have you know- "

"I don't care," she snapped. "You think you know what you're talking about, but you don't. How could you do that to Sheldon?"

Howard hissed between his teeth before glaring back at her. "So, we're doing this?"

"Yes! What were you thinking doing that? The cold must have shrunk your minds as much as your penises!"

Leonard looked panicked, eyes darting between them. "No, we don't have to talk about it- "

Penny glared at him. "It's the elephant in the room! This problem is because of you idiots! You've known him for years- "

"Just because we've known him for years doesn't mean we know him," Leonard snapped, upset. "He's an enigma. He always has been. We play it by ear and listen to the whispers in the wind that warn us when he's upset."

"And sick," Howard added, eyes more serious than she had ever seen. "And now, we have to be on the lookout for you, too."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not Sheldon. I don't care about the balance of it all."

Howard's eyes widened in surprise. "Woah. You've taken his side so hard that you're starting to turn into him."

More like think about him all the time, but she saw Howard's point. "Someone has to be on his side- "

"You're on a warpath; you're sick in the head, not making any sense. You're really willing to go to war for Sheldon? He's the biggest dick you're ever going to meet."

Before she could respond, Leonard groaned loudly, smacking his face; it stood out as performative to her. She knew acting when she saw it. "No. I forgot about my date tonight. I have to go."

When he looked expectantly at her, like he expected her to raise a fit or something and beg him not to go on his date, she realized that he was trying to make her jealous. Instead, Penny shrugged. "Okay. Go have fun. Try not to sabotage the date."

Leonard chuckled awkwardly, face tense. "If you don't want me to go, I won't. I'm willing to do whatever you want, Penny."

"What I want is for you to go on your date and have fun," she replied, smiling—all teeth. "You gave your word to this girl that you would be there for her. You should honor that, Leonard."

Howard and Raj were making not-so-subtle gestures at Leonard, but Leonard only laughed; it sounded terribly fake. "I'm sorry it came up. I can call her and reschedule. You're important to me, Penny. I didn't mean to double-book."

Penny tore a big bite of pizza into her mouth. "You should go—you need to go. You don't need to apologize to me—you've never needed to apologize to me. You know I understand the truth. Go on your date. It is a date, isn't it?"

Leonard, clearly not wanting to be found out about his trick, awkwardly put his jacket on and inched toward the door. "Okay. Well, I guess I better get going. I don't want to leave… Heather waiting."

He lingered for long moments, hopping slightly from one foot to the next, clearly hoping she would stop him from going at the last second, but Penny only saluted him with her pizza slice. "Have fun," she called out with a smile. "Make sure to be the perfect gentleman."

With that, he was gone, closing the door behind him. Penny was left alone with Howard and Raj.

She looked at them, uncertain. "Wanna play Halo?"

She would really be down to killing them several times over.

Howard snorted. "We don't have death wishes."

Silence.

Penny placed her pizza down. "Well, I guess I better get going- "

Suddenly, Raj whispered in Howard's ear, and Howard's eyes widened. "That's right. We had a question to ask you, Penny. We need your help with something—something really serious that would save our lives and make us look ourselves in the mirror."

Finally! They were going to ask her for advice on how to mend the divide between them and Sheldon, making up for their sabotage!

Penny sat back down, relieved. "Absolutely. What is it?"

"Could you help us pick up women?"

Silence.

She stared at them, trying to comprehend how they were more concerned about that than trying to fix the shattered friendship between them and Sheldon. But then she remembered Sheldon's observation that they had never considered him a friend—it was the only explanation? "Really?" she hissed, fists jammed against her sides. "That's all you care about?"

Howard shrugged. "We figured we would start small, going from smaller subjects to bigger subjects. That way, we can build trust. It's basic structural integrity."

That actually kind of made sense, but she wasn't sure if she trusted it. "Really?"

Raj nodded while Howard smiled; it seemed forced. "Sure. We'd be repaying each other for all the- "

Penny's eyes narrowed. "I swear, if you say something about how sleeping with you would be the best repayment possible- "

Howard rapidly waved his hands. "No, no, no. Tha- … Well, that's true, but that's not it."

She still kept her guard up. "Then what?"

"Could you help us with picking up women? That's all we need. Then we can work our way up to bigger subjects."

It was on the tip of our tongue to point out that some guys were too far gone but she refrained from saying that. Instead, she smiled—still all teeth—and decided to humor them. She could laugh in her mind and hear Sheldon's laugh, too—that would be nice. "I guess. If we go from dumb stuff to more important stuff, it makes sense. Fine. I don't know how much you'll take what I say to heart- "

Raj, excited, immediately whispered in Howard's ear, and Howard nodded in agreement. "Raj says he'll treat what you say as gospel. We both will!"

Penny nodded. "Alright. Well, all you gotta do is- … It's weird, you know? Guys think we're complicated, and maybe we are at first, but all you gotta do is hang on. Really, I don't think we're complicated."

Howard rolled his eyes. "That doesn't help. And of course, you'd say that—you're biased."

"Probably," she agreed easily.

"We don't think like you do. If we did, we wouldn't be asking for your help."

"Fine. But with guys, they seem so simple at first, but the more you know them, the more complicated they get. Here's my advice—once you get over the hump, you'll be fine. It's hard at first, but then it gets easier. You just gotta hang in there."

Howard glanced at Raj. "I think Drunk Raj needs to come out. That way you can ask your own questions and everything."

Raj raced over to the fridge and grabbed a beer, immediately chugging the bottle.

Penny winced. "You might not wanna- "

He threw away the empty bottle, grinning. "Hello, Penny."

She rolled her eyes. "Sit back down."

"Actually, Raj, grab me one. I'm thirsty," Howard said, looking at her. "You want anything?"

"Hard pass," she answered. "Now, I don't really know what to tell you guys. I don't have a manual or anything. How about you tell me what you say to a girl when you go up to talk to her?"

Raj sat back down next to Howard, handing him a bottle. "I tell her that she looks like a masterpiece."

Penny leaned back. "Well, that- … It depends on the girl. Some might think you sound and look desperate, but some could probably be flattered by that."

"What about you?" Raj asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

She immediately noticed how similar Drunk Raj was to Howard. "If you keep that up, I'm not going to help either of you."

Howard harshly jabbed his elbow into Raj's side. "Don't ruin it!"

Raj bowed his head. "Sorry, Penny."

"What about you, Howard?" she asked, prepared. "What line do you say to a girl?"

Taking a sip of his beer, Howard grinned. "I walk up to her and say how good her dress or whatever looks. Then I tell her that I know a place where it would look better—on my bedroom floor."

Penny blinked; she had been expecting a lot worse. "I can work with that. That's a good starting point. Leave the sex possibility out of it at first, but complimenting her appearance is never a bad thing, trust me. It works. Then you can later get to the sex possibility."

"Let's role-play!" Raj cried out, a silly smile on his face. "I can't believe you're sitting here at this bar all alone."

She paused for several moments before shrugging. What was the worst thing that could happen? And it would give her a chance to practice her acting—always a plus. Although, the whole thing was already a practice because she wanted nothing more to scream at them until her throat burst. "Um… okay. My boyfriend, he's in the bathroom."

Raj looked devastated, eyes wide with heartbreak. "No, I- … You were supposed to- "

Penny raised a brow. "That's a realistic answer, Raj. You never know if a girl's with a guy."

Howard frowned. "Yes, you do. If you see her with a guy, then you know. If she's all alone, and has been alone all night, then you know she's ripe for the picking."

She sighed. "Fine. Start again, Raj."

Raj perked up, eyes beaming at her. "I can't believe you're sitting here at this bar all alone."

"No one's come to buy me a drink."

"Allow me," Raj said quickly, and she could tell his mind was racing. "What would you like?"

"Surprise me."

"I hate when a girl says that!" Howard cried out, pointing his bottle at her, disgruntled. "She knows exactly what she wants! Why does she have to pretend she- "

"It's a test," Penny answered. "Girls will test you, to see if you're… able to pass. And not each girl wants the same thing. You'll be judged differently."

Raj jumped up and immediately sat on the coffee table, perched before her; he handed her an imaginary drink. "Here you go. I hope it refreshes you."

"That's very kind of you," she said, taking the offered imaginary drink. "I don't make it a habit to accept a drink from a stranger, so why don't you tell me your name so I can take a drink?"

"I'm Raj."

She pretended to take a drink. "It's nice to meet you, Raj. What do you do?"

"I'm a scientist," he said proudly. "I work at CalTech with other Doctors."

"You must be really smart."

Not smart enough not to sabotage Sheldon's work.

Raj shrugged, but the smile on his face notified her that something was coming. "I am, but I work with smarter people. So, while my name won't go down in history, I'll go down on you."

Penny closed her eyes and shook her head. "You just ruined it. You were having a real conversation, but then you went way too far."

Before Raj could respond, and he looked heartbroken, Howard jumped in. "It's my turn. I'll show Raj how it's done."

If anything, his confidence worried her, but she tried to smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Hugh G. Wreckshin."

While Raj giggled, Penny groaned in exasperation, not sure why she felt surprised. "Come on. That will never work- "

"What about Dick C. Normous?"

"No."

"Haywood Jablomi?"

"No!" she snapped. "Say one more of those dumbass names, and I'm not helping you."

Raj pouted, disappointed, but Howard sighed in defeat. "I'm Howard. What's your name?"

"Penny," she said slowly, warily, hoping that he would be serious. "So, your friend, Raj, he was saying that he works at CalTech. Do you work there, too?"

"Absolutely. I'm a badass engineer. And don't worry—if I get you pregnant, I'll support you and everything 'cause I'm all about supporting things."

Penny's brows rose. "That's how you lead off? Don't talk about pregnancy!"

Howard blinked. "But I'm showing her my support, showing her I'm a good guy. Like, I'll help her make sure that she doesn't put anything unhealthy in her body."

She smiled coldly. "I guess that explains why you won't be getting any action."

"I'll have you know that I'm completely disease-free- "

"Just tell me about your job," she interrupted.

Howard puffed out his chest. "I've built satellites that are launched into space."

Her surprise was real; she had kind of forgotten that. "Really? You must know a lot about space, then?"

"Absolutely." Howard perked up, leaning closer. "Do you know how many planets there are?"

"Does Pluto count?"

"Whatever you want."

"Then, give or take, nine planets."

Howard grinned, eyes alight. "There'll only be eight after I destroy Uranus."

Silence.

Penny stared at him, dumbfounded that he had taken it so far, before bowing her head, unable to bear looking at him. "I wish I had taken that offer of a beer earlier. Because then I would have something to throw in your face, which I guarantee you is what any girl will do to you if you say that! Now get out. I'm done helping you horny idiots."

"But we still need help!"

"Nope. You can polish a turd all you want, but it's still a turd. Get out."

"But- "

"Out!"

"This isn't your apartment!"

Penny blinked, realizing Howard was correct, but the devastated faces staring at her didn't move her into staying; she grabbed one last slice of pizza for the road and marched to the door, yanking it open. Immediately, Leonard fell inside from where he had obviously been listening the whole time, trying to find the perfect moment to return and 'rescue' her.

"Penny!" he cried out, shocked, picking himself up awkwardly. "I just came back from- "

"Save it for someone who'd believe it," she dismissed, disgusted. "I'm seeing myself out."

Before anyone could say anything else, she marched to her apartment, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and slammed the door shut. She didn't care enough—or cared too much as her anger kept growing—to peer through her peephole and see what they were doing. Instead, she locked the door and went into her bedroom, debating on whether to take a bath to try to cool off. But she knew it wouldn't do the trick; she needed something that would ease the fire that burned inside, causing smoke to choke her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Coming to a hopeful decision, Penny pulled out her phone and sent a tentative text to Sheldon: Can I call u?

He replied within moments, surprising her: Penny, it is past my bedtime. Though, I must commend you on finally using a question mark correctly. However, my praise is rescinded due to your intolerable use of "u" in lieu of "you."

Penny rolled her eyes fondly. Ur already up whats the harm? Im gonna call

Before he could respond, she dialed his number, hoping that he wouldn't ignore her. Thankfully, he picked up, but before she could say anything; he spoke: "Penny, it is past my bedtime."

"Did I wake you?"

"No."

"Hi," she whispered, feeling settled upon hearing his voice, relaxing because she knew she hadn't woken him and didn't need to feel guilty. "I just wanted to talk to you, hear your voice. It's been a rough day. Can we talk? I know it's a different day from our ritual."

Sheldon sighed. "I must speak lowly. If my mother learned I was speaking to a girl at this hour, she would start praying."

"In thanks?" she guessed.

"Or in horror."

Penny smiled. "Something tells me it'd be in thanks."

"I know my mother better than you do."

"Probably," she agreed. "How are you doing?"

"I am unchanged since our previous conversation."

She felt unsurprised but nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. It just takes time. Have you finally started relaxing or anything?"

"I have started fixing Daddy's truck."

Penny's brows rose. "Really? That's fun."

"It is necessary," he corrected, sounding far away. "I cannot explain it, but I know it is something I must do—I will not fail."

She nodded, understanding. "When's the last time it ran?"

"According to my mother, eleven years. However, she never had 'the heart' to scrap it. It has rested in our garage ever since. I used to fix it with Daddy when I was a boy; he called me his 'helper'."

"That's nice of you to fix it up," she said, imagining a young Sheldon working with his dad in a garage—it seemed like an impossible image, but she believed it. "I know you'll do a great job."

Sheldon was quiet for several moments. "I miss him. I never realized that I did—never realized how much I did."

Penny smiled sadly. "You've been in the zone for years. Do you know what the zone is?"

"Daddy told me. Football players experience it—a psychological state in which- "

"Well, you've been in the zone so long that you couldn't see what you were really feeling. Sometimes, it helps to get out of the zone, putting things in their right places."

"Excellent observation, Penny," he praised.

Penny's smile didn't feel as sad anymore. "Thanks, Sheldon. Have you been doing anything else besides fixing your dad's truck?"

"Nothing significant."

"So, none of your work? Your whiteboard's all clear?"

Sheldon's sigh was audible. "My work was sabotaged. There is no returning to it, not now—not until I ensure I have eradicated the source of the sabotage. However, due to your genius, I realized that the source is much deeper than the Betrayers; I have many discoveries to undertake before I return to my work. I was vandalized and defaced publicly; my exterior crumpled from the deception. Yet, my interior felt even worse when it should be the opposite, which conveys that the problem's nature lies in my interior. The complications this has evoked are immense—it is no accident, which is a fictitious concept believed in only by the mediocrity, for hidden in the subconscious lies- "

Penny shook her head, choosing to nip that—or try to—in the bud. "No, I'm not going to listen to that. There is such a thing as accidents, Sheldon."

"False," he dismissed. "The Universe is orderly and comprehensible, Penny. I must subscribe to that lawful belief in all things. Nothing in the Universe is an accident. Thus, nothing in our lives is an accident. There are no accidents, lest incomprehensibility and chaos reign with tyranny."

Her head tilted as she tried to understand such an extreme, but she found it a lot easier to do so than before. Once she figured out that Sheldon operated on extremes and thought in extremes, mind literally wired for extremes, it became so much easier to understand him. "Sheldon, you chose to bring Leonard, Howard, and Raj to the Arctic with you. That sounds like an accident."

"That was a mistake- "

"What is a mistake if not an accident?"

"Well observed," he commended, begrudging. "It is an accident I will never commit again."

Penny smiled slightly. "And wasn't my 'invasion' technically an accident?"

Sheldon was quiet, clearly thinking rapidly and intensely about her questions. "You raise interesting points," he admitted. "However, I am unsure your invasion was an accident. You have helped me in extensive ways. How could your invasion be an accident if you have helped me since? How could it be an accident if we are friends now? I must think on this more. However, what I do know is that you are the Chaos element, challenging my order, refining it to facilitate the emergence of Order, which I will embody. You are a revolution, Penny."

"Maybe one day you'll let me sit in your spot as thanks," she teased.

"Never," Sheldon responded instantly with adamance.

"Why not?"

Sheldon's sigh sounded weary and condescending at the same time. "It is less egregious to abscond with a man's wife than to occupy his spot, Penny."

Penny's brows rose, unimpressed after she deciphered his meaning. "Thanks for the honesty," she said sarcastically. "That makes me feel really good—that I could never compare to your spot."

"I do not understand."

Narrowing her eyes, she sighed, deciding to challenge him head-on. "Alright. What if I said you take a woman's husband before you take her- "

"Children," Sheldon supplied, confident.

"- coffee?" she finished, smiling falsely, even though he couldn't see her. "How does that feel? That I value my coffee more than you?"

"I am not your husband," Sheldon pointed out, confused.

Penny rolled her eyes. "Fine. How does it feel that I value my coffee more than my friend?"

"That is preposterous- "

"How does it make you feel?"

"I fail to see- "

"How does it make you feel?"

"This is futile- "

"How does it make you feel?"

"Emotions are meaningless- "

"How does it make you feel?"

"Affronted," Sheldon squawked out, sounding horrified that he had admitted it. "But your fondness for coffee does not correlate to my fondness for my Spot."

Penny leaned forward, eager. "Really? Everything feels right in the world when you sit in your spot, right? It's the one constant that you can always rely on to always be the same? To always be there for you?"

"Affirmative."

She grinned triumphantly. "I feel the same about coffee. When I take that sip, everything's right in the world. It's the one constant that always makes me feel alive, and I can always rely on it to wake me up, to make everything feel right. It's always there for me."

"Intriguing," Sheldon mused, sounding shell-shocked. "I had failed to consider such a rationale."

"Does this mean I can sit in your spot?"

"How did you arrive at such a fallacy, Penny?" Sheldon gasped, astonished.

"Never mind," she muttered. "You'd think you'd treat your 'revolution' with less disrespect."

"Penny, I am disrespectful respectfully," he explained. "It is one of my numerous quirks that people find fascinating."

"That you certainly are," Penny agreed with a slight laugh.

"Are you still displeased?"

She hadn't been aware she was feeling displeased, unless he was talking about her rough day. "Wait, are you talking about me having a rough day?"

"I am."

Penny's smile was soft. "Yeah, it's a lot better. You've been really sweet, but you've also just been you. Thank you."

"Excellent," Sheldon said, sounding proud. "I will record this appeasement for future undertakings."

She suddenly laughed, unable to stop it. "You're going to keep a log of how to calm me down? To remember what you've done before?"

"Affirmative."

Shaking her head, she grinned. "Can I do the same?"

"I do not see any reason to curtail your diligence towards order."

Penny felt triumph, wishing she had done such a thing sooner. "That's good."

"Order is always good."

"Except for when it's not," she pointed out, knowing she was talking to a man, not a scientist; she had to remember that. At first, she had looked for the man when she first met him before he overwhelmed her, and she just stuck to seeing a scientist. But after getting to know him, she saw the man and could understand him—or was beginning to. And before he could begin an hour-long lecture about why order is the only right choice to ever make, followed by a history of the world, followed by the origins of the words he used, she spoke again: "I know the universe is all about order, but you're not the universe, Sheldon; you're inside the universe, part of it. You're human, which means you can be chaotic, too—like everyone."

"I try not to be," Sheldon said, voice soft and pained.

"I know. But isn't it actually disorderly to ignore all of that, not keeping things in their places by ignoring it? There's a time for order and a time for chaos. If order can't exist without chaos, doesn't that mean that there has to be chaos? Doesn't that mean you have to thank chaos for making order? Doesn't that mean there's something good about chaos if it can create the best thing of all in order?"

There was a long silence, but she heard his steady breathing through the phone, notifying her that he had not hung up in an outrage. "Perhaps I underestimated a community college's education," he said at last.

Penny rolled her eyes. "This has nothing to do with community college; this is all me."

"That is much more impressive," Sheldon commended, sounding far away. "It is your genius that confounds me. You give me much to ruminate on. Thank you, Penny."

"Just don't overthink it," she advised. "It's good to think, but overthinking it is extreme; it's not balanced. You need to figure out where the line is drawn, so you don't go from thinking to overthinking."

"I will keep that in mind."

Penny smiled and exhaled slowly. "So, what have you been up to besides fixing your dad's truck? Have you been raising hell in your old town?"

"I have visited the town," he acknowledged, voice tighter. "No one recognized me."

"Did you want people to recognize you?"

"I am the greatest thing to come out of the town in its existence—by far."

Penny rolled her eyes, realizing she should have known he would think something like that. "Well, why don't you just ask Missy for help? Maybe she'd introduce you or something."

"She does not like me," Sheldon said instantly with a stiffness in his voice that alerted her that such a seeming fact, to him, was upsetting.

"She's your sister," she pointed out. "She doesn't like you by default, but she definitely loves you."

"I once overheard her remark that she hates me."

Penny's eyes narrowed, knowing with his perfect memory, there was a long span of time for 'once overheard.' "When did she say that?"

"When we were seven."

She rolled her eyes. "You know, she didn't actually mean that then. And she doesn't hate you now. You're her brother; she loves you, even if you're crazy."

"But why I warranted such a strong emotion from her continues to elude me," Sheldon said, sounding frustrated; he had clearly spent a lot of time thinking about it, getting nowhere. "She should never have hated me. I gave her no reason for such vicious emotion. I minimally acknowledged her mediocre existence."

Penny rolled her eyes. "Oh, you sure know how to use that big, beautiful brain of yours, genius."

"Excellent alliteration, Penny."

"Don't distract me," she warned, feeling a smile tug at her lips. "But thanks. When you just ignore people, that's not going to win you any favors, especially for your twin sister."

"I do not follow."

"When you ignore people, it makes them feel… shunned."

"Ostracized?"

"Yes. No one likes to feel ostracized, Sheldon."

"Did you know that the word ostracized stems from- "

"What I know is that if you want to get your situation to change, a simple 'good morning' will go a long way," she interrupted, knowing he was about to divert the conversation, possibly because he felt uncomfortable. "Why don't you just start small with Missy?"

Sheldon's sigh reached her ears through her speaker. "Your solution is for me to recite a salutation to her when I see her?"

"Yep. It's that simple."

"A simple salutation for a simple mind," Sheldon summarized, thoughtful. "There is balance."

She sighed in resigned disbelief, knowing that some things would never change. "And balance is all that matters."

"Affirmative."

"Kind of like you and me?"

But instead of going quiet like she expected, Sheldon simply agreed: "Of course."

Penny smiled. "Good."

XxXxXxXxXxX

That's it. I hope that you all enjoyed it.

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