The System pulsed awake the moment Penny opened her eyes.
Not aggressively—just a soft, hovering interface at the edge of her vision. She groaned into her pillow.
"Seriously? A tutorial?"
It hovered anyway, crisp and clinical.
[SYSTEM MENU: BOND INTERFACE OVERVIEW]
- Emotional Manipulation: DISABLED
- Behavioral Influence: IMPOSSIBLE
- Consent Requirement: MANDATORY
- Soulbond Status: INACTIVE (Mutual Activation Required)
[SPECIAL FLAG DETECTED]
[TARGET: SHELDON COOPER
STATUS: IMMUNITY PARAMETER — HIGH]
Penny froze.
"Immunity parameter?"
A soft ping elaborated:
[NOTE: TARGET possesses uniquely structured cognition.
Direct influence is nullified. Emotional states cannot be altered.]
She swallowed hard.
"So… I can't nudge him? Can't calm him? Nothing?"
The System chimed, almost offended.
[INTERFERENCE WOULD BE UNETHICAL. THE BOND IS VOLUNTARY.]
Relief flooded her system - she would never want to manipulate him.
Penny sat upright, rubbed her face, and whispered:
"Okay. I can work with that."
She dug out a notebook she'd found in a moving box and wrote across the first page in big block letters:
DON'T BREAK SHELDON.
DON'T BREAK CANON (at least too much).
DON'T BREAK YOURSELF.
---
Her first shift at the Cheesecake Factory felt… wrong.
Not bad, just uncanny—like déjà vu wearing an apron.
The bustle, the sizzling plates, the clatter of cutlery—everything was exactly like she remembered from binge-watching the show. Except now she was living it. Sweating through it.
She remembered what orders would go wrong, trouble customers, ect (at least those that were shown on TV).
And thanks to her meta-knowledge, she prevented every one of those disasters.
"You're weirdly on top of things today," her manager said, raising an eyebrow.
"Beginner's luck?" Penny offered weakly.
By hour six, her smile was cracking at the edges. Her feet hurt. Her chest hurt worse like an impending panic attack had been continuously pushed away until it felt like it was going to burst out of her like a chestbuster alien.
In her old life, nobody ever depended on her the way this world might.
And in this life, she was terrified of breaking the fragile web of events she remembered—terrified that if she changed too much, too soon she wouldn't be able to save her favorite people (once just characters) from heartbreak.
By the end of her shift, the mask slipped entirely.
She stepped into the alley beside her apartment building and slumped down against the brick. Her arms on her knees, and quietly cried.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just the overwhelmed, choked breaths of someone realizing she didn't just reincarnate—
She wasn't sure how she'd be able to carry this second chance of life on her shoulders.
When footsteps approached, she scrubbed her face quickly.
Leonard stood there, holding a to-go cup.
"Hey," he said softly. "Tough day?"
Penny straightened, voice shaking. "Just tired. First shifts are always rough."
He hesitated. Leonard wasn't used to being the emotional support friend—but he tried.
"If you need anything," he said, "we're right upstairs."
His kindness stung. It wasn't his fault she couldn't lean on him—not the way she wished she could lean on Sheldon someday.
Not the way she wouldn't lean on either of them (yet).
"Thanks, Leonard," she said. "Really. I just need a hot shower."
He nodded happy she wasn't sobbing anymore.
When he left, Penny exhaled long and slow.
And then—
The System chimed again.
[SUGGESTION: BOND-SOOTHING PULSE AVAILABLE.
→ WOULD YOU LIKE TO ALLEVIATE EMOTIONAL DISTRESS?]
Her stomach twisted.
A free emotional comfort button.
Something the original Penny never had.
Something that would instantly ease the ache behind her ribs.
For a moment of weakness she considered it only for her to slap her cheeks sharply and hiss:
"No."
The interface dimmed.
Penny pressed both palms to her face, tears burning hot and furious this time.
"I'm not using him," she whispered. "Not for this. Not ever."
And somewhere across the hall, Sheldon—unaware of everything—looked up from his whiteboard with a faint, inexplicable urge to knock on her door.
But he didn't.
Not yet.