TBBT Fic: The Escape Plan Inefficiency
Title: The Escape Plan Inefficiency
Author: clumsyghost
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Pairing: Leonard/Sheldon pre-slash
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 2,234
Summary: Bitter and resentful, Leonard moves out and finds that he can't let go of Sheldon.
A/N: Leonard's POV, angst, bitchtastic.
The human body relies on the heart for two purposes: first, the contractions of the organ keep blood flowing throughout the circulatory system, which is vital to remaining alive. Second, the heart also serves to thoroughly fuck up the shit out of our reality, which is fatal to the concept of sanity.
Why is it that we become attached to objects, ideas, and people that can never love us back? Evolution drives us to reproduce in order to guarantee the continuity of the human race and our genetics, so it’s only logical that we “fall in love” with someone we have a chance with, right?
No. I’m explaining matters like he would. God dammit. Even after all this time, I can’t not think about him. It’s easy to picture him in front of me, brows creased as he lectures me on linguistics.
“’Can’t not’? Your use of negation reflects poor verbal skills, Leonard. Though I’m not surprised; you’ve always had weak communication skills.”
Yet he shrank back from any hint of emotional display. What a pair we are, the emotionally stunted and the vertically stunted.
I guess I should say what a pair we were. I haven’t seen Sheldon Lee Cooper in seven months, two weeks, and three days. It had started off like any other stupid fight of ours, with Sheldon insisting I had committed the wrong and me blaming Sheldon’s tight-ass rules. That particular day, it was as if seven years worth of shit fell through the roof.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the rules, the restrictions, that disapproving, know-it-all stare one second longer. So I packed some of my stuff and left the next day.
“Where are you going?” Sheldon had looked up from the Thai takeout, his order incorrectly prepared as usual, confusion tinting his eyes as he took in my bags. Howard and Raj, also witnesses to my unplanned exit, stared from the couch.
“I applied for a job at a university upstate, and I got it. So I’m leaving,” I had replied. My voice sounded harsh even to my own ears, but I didn’t care at the moment. I just wanted to leave, and the little intakes of breath from my friends didn’t help the ache in my heart.
“But when are you coming back?” Anxiety crept in Sheldon’s voice. Unexpected change of living conditions… Sheldon had a fear of that. He had a fear of a lot of things, but they wouldn’t be my problem anymore.
“Not for a while,” I replied, fumbling with my keys. “This is a good career move for me, see…” Even to the end, I knew what tactics to use against Sheldon; by appealing to Sheldon’s logical side with career aspirations, I could neutralize any other argument he might propose. I couldn’t look at him in the eye, so I don’t know how he took the news. All I know is that he didn’t come after me as I left the apartment. Howard and Raj did.
I was halfway down the stairs before I heard the thumping of running feet trying to catch up with me. They had barely laid eyes on me before they started to speak, calling out the ludicrousness of my plan.
“Leonard! What are you doing?!” Raj shouted.
“You can’t just make a decision like that overnight,” Howard added incredulously, giving a little chuckle as if this was all just one big practical joke.
“Sorry, guys. Didn’t mean to spring this on you. I just can’t… I can’t live with Sheldon anymore. I have to get away…”
“Dude, you’re being a colossal…,” Raj started to say.
“No, no. It’s all right. Everyone needs a break now and then,” Howard interrupted him. Raj narrowed his eyes, but didn’t press the matter.
“Right. Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later, ok?” We had reached the bottom of the stairs. I had glanced over my shoulder as I pushed the front door to the apartment building open. Howard still looked a little disbelieving. Raj just looked pissed.
“Leonard,” he called out. “We’ll try to look after Sheldon, but we aren’t replacements.”
Those words echoed in my head for a long time afterwards. Replacements. But I was replaceable, wasn’t I? I hadn’t wrote ‘Die, Sheldon, die!’ on the walls, but I had left all the same. At some point in the future, someone would pass Sheldon’s tests and move in with him. Simple as that.
As for myself, I found myself a one-bedroom apartment in my new city. No more roommates; I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. Don’t try to care about someone. You’ll just end up getting hurt.
The first few months after I left, I had to detox myself. I stopped following Sheldon’s Twitter, adjusted the settings on Facebook so I wouldn’t see his posts, sent his emails straight to my spam folder, and ignored his blog. For a few days, everything was going fine, until late one night, I decided it couldn’t hurt to check up on Sheldon’s entries.
Big mistake. Life has been one vicious cycle ever since. I’d ignore him, feel guilty, miserable, and alone, then inevitably break down and read everything I could find about him. I’m sure late-night binge Googling of your former roommate doesn’t fall under the category of creepy stalker at all. For a moment, I was happy until that bitter anger crept up again, filling my gut with self-loathing. I realized how pathetic I was, but there wasn’t really anything I could do about it. You can’t just forget about your best friend overnight.
Though at any point in time I could be pretending he didn’t exist or alternatively rereading his dry blog posts past the point of memorization, I hadn’t verbally communicated with him since I left. Yet sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, convinced I had heard him calling me. Seven years of dealing with someone else’s nightmares tends to fuck up your sleep patterns.
My second relapse occurred on the first Friday of the third month. Fridays were date night for normal people, but as usual, I was spending the night alone in my apartment, eating Chinese on pizza night and watching Babylon 5. On a whim, I disabled the settings on my IM program and within three minutes, I had a message from Sheldon.
Sheldor: I see you’ve decided to rebuild the lines of communication. I trust you realized that I could have worked around your insufficient security protocols and contacted you if I had wished?
Honestly, his comment should have annoyed me. I know this. I would be lying if I said it didn’t bring a smile to my face, though. For half a second, I debated not responding; that idea quickly went out the metaphorical window as I typed a reply.
We ended up chatting for three hours, mostly about work. I didn’t bring up any of our issues and for once, Sheldon was aware of the awkwardness of the situation so he didn’t try to push anything either. I slept better that night than I had in months, pretending it had nothing to do with a certain someone.
We didn’t chat again for several weeks. Sheldon made the initial contact in the conversations; an odd reversal of our real lives. I didn’t think much of the dates or length of time between our chats, but Sheldon did. In retrospect, I should have realized the pattern. There’s always a pattern with Sheldon. Even ‘Anything can happen Thursdays’ was designated on his schedule.
One month ago from today, I came back to my apartment to find several long messages from Sheldon blinking on my screen. Even with one glance, I could tell he was upset.
Sheldor: Your disregard for our one-on-one online interaction time slot is appalling. My bedtime is in twenty minutes and you have not responded. Exactly what distracted you? I could have been working on my paper, but I cleared my evening for you.
I had to work late, I typed back. I didn’t realize we had a set schedule. See? You’re ALWAYS doing this. You impose so many rules. The least you could do is let me know about them! I had no idea you were waiting for me to get online.
Sheldor: We have been meeting on the first Friday of the month for the past three months. I certainly expected you to pick up on that, Leonard. You constantly inform me that I undervalue your intelligence then you turn around and blame me when your mental capabilities fail.
When I saw he had typed my name, something inside of me clenched. His voice comes back to me and all the waves of memories I had tried so hard to forget.
Leonard. Exasperated. Sheldon’s staring over the top of the menu with a frown on his face. You know perfectly well we can’t order an appetizer with an odd number of servings.
Leonard. Sleepily. Tuffs of hair stuck up every which way as he shuffles over to the counter. Good morning. I trust you gained enough REM sleep to drive us to work without incident?
Leonard. Uncertain. Are you saying I crossed a line? You weren’t discreet when you chose to engage in coitus with that female. I understand why you object to my mother’s insistence on praying for you, but I don’t perceive any error on my part.
Leonard. Gasping, chest heaving as he clutched the bed sheets tightly. Another nightmare, another night of being woken by Sheldon’s screams.
Leonard. Smiling. I thought your pun on kryptonite was clever. Ha-ha.
Leonard.
Hundreds of miles away in apartment 4A, our apartment, Sheldon sat in front of his laptop, impatiently waiting my reply.
I have to go, I typed into the chatbox. Without thinking, I add I’m sorry and hit enter.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
So here I am, seven months, two weeks, and three days since I tried futilely to free myself. The kind of friendship Sheldon and I have… I don’t think I could ever stop caring about him. I… love him. I’m not sure exactly what that love entails, but… it’s enough for me to know that… my heart will never allow my mind to let him go.
Sheldor: Good evening, Leonard.
The instant message flashes on my screen, blinking for a second. Ah, right on time. It is the first Friday of the month, after all.
Hey, Sheldon. How are you? I quickly type back. I know I have to make up for last month’s disastrous meeting.
Sheldor: Work followed its usual routine, except for a minor alteration in the cafeteria’s lunch menu. I attempted to protest, but you know how fastidious the food manager is.
Poor bastard is probably still recovering from the chick pea incident, Sheldon. The memory brought a smile to my face. Funny, it wasn’t nearly as humorous then as it was now.
Sheldor: I have a question for you, Leonard.
This was odd; Sheldon usually didn’t divert from the flow of conversation like that. With some trepidation, I encouraged him to continue.
Sheldor: When will you be returning home?
Home. For a moment, my vision blurred.
Sheldor: Leonard? You haven’t responded in a reasonable amount of time. Is something distracting you?
No… I’m just surprised.
Sheldor: Why? Your name is still on the lease and you have been paying rent for the past seven months in spite of the fact that you know longer frequent the space. All of your belongings are where you left them. Well, I did borrow Superman #281 to refute a poorly constructed argument of Wolowitz’s, but I returned it.
Classic Sheldon. That’s fine. The point is… do you want me to come back? I need to know how you feel, Sheldon. Don’t give me some rational explanation.
Sheldor: Why would I not want you to come back?
I’ve been somewhat of a jackass for over half a year, Shelly, or have you not noticed?
Sheldor: Of course I noticed. Your mother and I had frequent conversations about your neurosis. I believe Raj classified your behavior in the less scientific manner as ‘inconsiderate passive-aggressive needy bitching’.
Yet you still want me back?
Sheldor: Yes. You’re my best friend. Additionally, Wolowitz’s scooter is too small to accommodate my larger frame, so going to work has been a stressful hassle.
I’ve missed you too, Sheldon. I’m sorry.
Sheldor: I hope you’ll remember this period of your life in the future as to prevent you from acting so rashly. I don’t want you to leave without proper notice again.
I promise if I ever leave again, I’ll give you written notice within 24 hours of our departure.
Sheldor: What do you mean by ‘our’?
It means I’m not leaving you like that again.
Sheldor: That is satisfactory.
For all the bitterness in the human heart, there is nothing like forgiveness or knowing you still have a home to return to, still inhabited by the person that makes you want to scream and hug them all at the same time.
I barely resisted the urge to spam the chat window like a ten year old girl on sugar with smiley face emoticons. As if reading my thoughts, Sheldon began to type.
Sheldor: Now, let’s discuss your strikes and the number of classes you’ll have to complete to make up the time you’ve been gone…
Author: clumsyghost
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Pairing: Leonard/Sheldon pre-slash
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 2,234
Summary: Bitter and resentful, Leonard moves out and finds that he can't let go of Sheldon.
A/N: Leonard's POV, angst, bitchtastic.
The human body relies on the heart for two purposes: first, the contractions of the organ keep blood flowing throughout the circulatory system, which is vital to remaining alive. Second, the heart also serves to thoroughly fuck up the shit out of our reality, which is fatal to the concept of sanity.
Why is it that we become attached to objects, ideas, and people that can never love us back? Evolution drives us to reproduce in order to guarantee the continuity of the human race and our genetics, so it’s only logical that we “fall in love” with someone we have a chance with, right?
No. I’m explaining matters like he would. God dammit. Even after all this time, I can’t not think about him. It’s easy to picture him in front of me, brows creased as he lectures me on linguistics.
“’Can’t not’? Your use of negation reflects poor verbal skills, Leonard. Though I’m not surprised; you’ve always had weak communication skills.”
Yet he shrank back from any hint of emotional display. What a pair we are, the emotionally stunted and the vertically stunted.
I guess I should say what a pair we were. I haven’t seen Sheldon Lee Cooper in seven months, two weeks, and three days. It had started off like any other stupid fight of ours, with Sheldon insisting I had committed the wrong and me blaming Sheldon’s tight-ass rules. That particular day, it was as if seven years worth of shit fell through the roof.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the rules, the restrictions, that disapproving, know-it-all stare one second longer. So I packed some of my stuff and left the next day.
“Where are you going?” Sheldon had looked up from the Thai takeout, his order incorrectly prepared as usual, confusion tinting his eyes as he took in my bags. Howard and Raj, also witnesses to my unplanned exit, stared from the couch.
“I applied for a job at a university upstate, and I got it. So I’m leaving,” I had replied. My voice sounded harsh even to my own ears, but I didn’t care at the moment. I just wanted to leave, and the little intakes of breath from my friends didn’t help the ache in my heart.
“But when are you coming back?” Anxiety crept in Sheldon’s voice. Unexpected change of living conditions… Sheldon had a fear of that. He had a fear of a lot of things, but they wouldn’t be my problem anymore.
“Not for a while,” I replied, fumbling with my keys. “This is a good career move for me, see…” Even to the end, I knew what tactics to use against Sheldon; by appealing to Sheldon’s logical side with career aspirations, I could neutralize any other argument he might propose. I couldn’t look at him in the eye, so I don’t know how he took the news. All I know is that he didn’t come after me as I left the apartment. Howard and Raj did.
I was halfway down the stairs before I heard the thumping of running feet trying to catch up with me. They had barely laid eyes on me before they started to speak, calling out the ludicrousness of my plan.
“Leonard! What are you doing?!” Raj shouted.
“You can’t just make a decision like that overnight,” Howard added incredulously, giving a little chuckle as if this was all just one big practical joke.
“Sorry, guys. Didn’t mean to spring this on you. I just can’t… I can’t live with Sheldon anymore. I have to get away…”
“Dude, you’re being a colossal…,” Raj started to say.
“No, no. It’s all right. Everyone needs a break now and then,” Howard interrupted him. Raj narrowed his eyes, but didn’t press the matter.
“Right. Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later, ok?” We had reached the bottom of the stairs. I had glanced over my shoulder as I pushed the front door to the apartment building open. Howard still looked a little disbelieving. Raj just looked pissed.
“Leonard,” he called out. “We’ll try to look after Sheldon, but we aren’t replacements.”
Those words echoed in my head for a long time afterwards. Replacements. But I was replaceable, wasn’t I? I hadn’t wrote ‘Die, Sheldon, die!’ on the walls, but I had left all the same. At some point in the future, someone would pass Sheldon’s tests and move in with him. Simple as that.
As for myself, I found myself a one-bedroom apartment in my new city. No more roommates; I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. Don’t try to care about someone. You’ll just end up getting hurt.
The first few months after I left, I had to detox myself. I stopped following Sheldon’s Twitter, adjusted the settings on Facebook so I wouldn’t see his posts, sent his emails straight to my spam folder, and ignored his blog. For a few days, everything was going fine, until late one night, I decided it couldn’t hurt to check up on Sheldon’s entries.
Big mistake. Life has been one vicious cycle ever since. I’d ignore him, feel guilty, miserable, and alone, then inevitably break down and read everything I could find about him. I’m sure late-night binge Googling of your former roommate doesn’t fall under the category of creepy stalker at all. For a moment, I was happy until that bitter anger crept up again, filling my gut with self-loathing. I realized how pathetic I was, but there wasn’t really anything I could do about it. You can’t just forget about your best friend overnight.
Though at any point in time I could be pretending he didn’t exist or alternatively rereading his dry blog posts past the point of memorization, I hadn’t verbally communicated with him since I left. Yet sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, convinced I had heard him calling me. Seven years of dealing with someone else’s nightmares tends to fuck up your sleep patterns.
My second relapse occurred on the first Friday of the third month. Fridays were date night for normal people, but as usual, I was spending the night alone in my apartment, eating Chinese on pizza night and watching Babylon 5. On a whim, I disabled the settings on my IM program and within three minutes, I had a message from Sheldon.
Sheldor: I see you’ve decided to rebuild the lines of communication. I trust you realized that I could have worked around your insufficient security protocols and contacted you if I had wished?
Honestly, his comment should have annoyed me. I know this. I would be lying if I said it didn’t bring a smile to my face, though. For half a second, I debated not responding; that idea quickly went out the metaphorical window as I typed a reply.
We ended up chatting for three hours, mostly about work. I didn’t bring up any of our issues and for once, Sheldon was aware of the awkwardness of the situation so he didn’t try to push anything either. I slept better that night than I had in months, pretending it had nothing to do with a certain someone.
We didn’t chat again for several weeks. Sheldon made the initial contact in the conversations; an odd reversal of our real lives. I didn’t think much of the dates or length of time between our chats, but Sheldon did. In retrospect, I should have realized the pattern. There’s always a pattern with Sheldon. Even ‘Anything can happen Thursdays’ was designated on his schedule.
One month ago from today, I came back to my apartment to find several long messages from Sheldon blinking on my screen. Even with one glance, I could tell he was upset.
Sheldor: Your disregard for our one-on-one online interaction time slot is appalling. My bedtime is in twenty minutes and you have not responded. Exactly what distracted you? I could have been working on my paper, but I cleared my evening for you.
I had to work late, I typed back. I didn’t realize we had a set schedule. See? You’re ALWAYS doing this. You impose so many rules. The least you could do is let me know about them! I had no idea you were waiting for me to get online.
Sheldor: We have been meeting on the first Friday of the month for the past three months. I certainly expected you to pick up on that, Leonard. You constantly inform me that I undervalue your intelligence then you turn around and blame me when your mental capabilities fail.
When I saw he had typed my name, something inside of me clenched. His voice comes back to me and all the waves of memories I had tried so hard to forget.
Leonard. Exasperated. Sheldon’s staring over the top of the menu with a frown on his face. You know perfectly well we can’t order an appetizer with an odd number of servings.
Leonard. Sleepily. Tuffs of hair stuck up every which way as he shuffles over to the counter. Good morning. I trust you gained enough REM sleep to drive us to work without incident?
Leonard. Uncertain. Are you saying I crossed a line? You weren’t discreet when you chose to engage in coitus with that female. I understand why you object to my mother’s insistence on praying for you, but I don’t perceive any error on my part.
Leonard. Gasping, chest heaving as he clutched the bed sheets tightly. Another nightmare, another night of being woken by Sheldon’s screams.
Leonard. Smiling. I thought your pun on kryptonite was clever. Ha-ha.
Leonard.
Hundreds of miles away in apartment 4A, our apartment, Sheldon sat in front of his laptop, impatiently waiting my reply.
I have to go, I typed into the chatbox. Without thinking, I add I’m sorry and hit enter.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
So here I am, seven months, two weeks, and three days since I tried futilely to free myself. The kind of friendship Sheldon and I have… I don’t think I could ever stop caring about him. I… love him. I’m not sure exactly what that love entails, but… it’s enough for me to know that… my heart will never allow my mind to let him go.
Sheldor: Good evening, Leonard.
The instant message flashes on my screen, blinking for a second. Ah, right on time. It is the first Friday of the month, after all.
Hey, Sheldon. How are you? I quickly type back. I know I have to make up for last month’s disastrous meeting.
Sheldor: Work followed its usual routine, except for a minor alteration in the cafeteria’s lunch menu. I attempted to protest, but you know how fastidious the food manager is.
Poor bastard is probably still recovering from the chick pea incident, Sheldon. The memory brought a smile to my face. Funny, it wasn’t nearly as humorous then as it was now.
Sheldor: I have a question for you, Leonard.
This was odd; Sheldon usually didn’t divert from the flow of conversation like that. With some trepidation, I encouraged him to continue.
Sheldor: When will you be returning home?
Home. For a moment, my vision blurred.
Sheldor: Leonard? You haven’t responded in a reasonable amount of time. Is something distracting you?
No… I’m just surprised.
Sheldor: Why? Your name is still on the lease and you have been paying rent for the past seven months in spite of the fact that you know longer frequent the space. All of your belongings are where you left them. Well, I did borrow Superman #281 to refute a poorly constructed argument of Wolowitz’s, but I returned it.
Classic Sheldon. That’s fine. The point is… do you want me to come back? I need to know how you feel, Sheldon. Don’t give me some rational explanation.
Sheldor: Why would I not want you to come back?
I’ve been somewhat of a jackass for over half a year, Shelly, or have you not noticed?
Sheldor: Of course I noticed. Your mother and I had frequent conversations about your neurosis. I believe Raj classified your behavior in the less scientific manner as ‘inconsiderate passive-aggressive needy bitching’.
Yet you still want me back?
Sheldor: Yes. You’re my best friend. Additionally, Wolowitz’s scooter is too small to accommodate my larger frame, so going to work has been a stressful hassle.
I’ve missed you too, Sheldon. I’m sorry.
Sheldor: I hope you’ll remember this period of your life in the future as to prevent you from acting so rashly. I don’t want you to leave without proper notice again.
I promise if I ever leave again, I’ll give you written notice within 24 hours of our departure.
Sheldor: What do you mean by ‘our’?
It means I’m not leaving you like that again.
Sheldor: That is satisfactory.
For all the bitterness in the human heart, there is nothing like forgiveness or knowing you still have a home to return to, still inhabited by the person that makes you want to scream and hug them all at the same time.
I barely resisted the urge to spam the chat window like a ten year old girl on sugar with smiley face emoticons. As if reading my thoughts, Sheldon began to type.
Sheldor: Now, let’s discuss your strikes and the number of classes you’ll have to complete to make up the time you’ve been gone…