Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Howard Wolowitz was not depressed. Not even a little bit. Or at least, thats what he’d respond if asked. And it seemed that way for everyone who know him. 

His closest friends, & acquaintance. 

Especially to his best friend — Raj. 

Despite the constant ghoulish nightmares, an overly stereotypically clingy Jewish mother, or an absentee father whose face he’d neither seen nor heard in over a decade. Somehow Howard was not depressed. Despite the sudden change at home—where his mother became almost a shell of herself forcing Howard into the role of both “her darling little boy” & an adult level caretaker for when her moods got real bad.

Howard lived his life behind a mask. One donned years ago. So long in the past that truth be told, he worried way lay beneath.

No, Howard Wolowitz was NOT depressed. 

Despite most things seeming to suggest otherwise. 

What he was , was bored. 

Overwhelmingly so. 

Why?

Because in a room full of geniuses, each a PhD holder in their particular sliver of science, Howard was the odd duckling. 

Because he only had a Masters degree. 

Because he was Mr. Wolowitz surrounded by Doctors.

Because he was Howard — the space plumber — and only that.

Because, at best, whenever he came into a room people gave side glance before ‘dumbing down’ their lingo. At worst, they’d continued speaking as if visiting tourists insulting someone to their face knowing that solely they spoke their native language.

Because no one noticed how eerily smart he was.

Howard Wolowitz was not dumb. Despite what he let people think. Even when it inconvenienced him. Especially then.  

Ever the studious kid he learned magic at home, little skits and tricks to make his mother smile. When he could see her frown wistfully over the kitchen sink or stare just a little too hard at the tv thinking about him; Howard distracted Ma with a new trick.

Look ma! There’s a quarter behind your ear!

Look ma! I made your watch vanish from your wrist!

Look ma! I made this ball float!

Most of his tricks had to do with vanishing objects & things flying away. Neither thought too hard about it, other than “that’s what HE did to us...” . 

He learned languages, manufacturing techniques. He dove into every internal & external avenue offered like a drowning man clinging a lifesaver at sea.

String theory. Particle physics. The realistic projection of Terran technology. Science fiction. Comic books. Astronomy. Welding. Manufacturing. Programming. Biology. Closed environmental systems. And above all, everything and anything to do with travel through the stars which made up our cosmos.  

In short, the material sciences & the science of what makes up material.

He was smart. Frighteningly so. And he hid it all from sight. Even to his closest friends.

Howard Wolowitz did not suffer from anxiety. Not even a little bit. That’s what he would repeat to himself if you’d ask him. But when his mind raced too fast for sleep to come, or when he’d get lost in daydreams deep in thought, that line became just a bit harder to repeat. To believe in.

He let it not affect his day to day. Staying in his lane, jumping around from topic to topic his friends were excited about, often translating their particular language into what others in the group could understand without their knowledge.

They each possessed mastery of their chosen branch.  Only that mastery.

Sheldon  Lee Cooper dealt with theoretical physics of string theory. Often making amazing leaps in understanding which seemed, to those around him, as unfollowable genius. Except for Howard who could follow along. Somehow feeling that string theory was off. Not quite right...

Howards comments, be it an analogy or question, at times the occasional formula drifting to mind were always missed. Especially by Sheldon. The few times where he’d left his napkin scribbles on the lunch table during spirited conversation & then happen to glance at it to seeing a line or three complete in his handwriting? Well, he must have written it without realising so.

Leonard Hofstadter was closest to Howards “supposed” level. As a experimental theoretical physicist his day to day was dealing with practical experiments. Lasers measurements. Chemical experiments. The manufacture and manipulation of matter with all science had available — be it magnetic field or high frequency laser pulse hammer. 

Leonard dealt with both the engineering challenges of setting up experiments and the underlying physics behind them. He was smart, smarter than Howard was, (if you’d ask him,) of that he was sure. Despite this he never noticed how Howards dismissive  comments unexpectedly lead him towards solutions during their lunchtime rants.

Rajesh Koothrappali was an Astroparticle Physicist. His work dealt with the analysis of data from few sources. Working with even fewer methods of detection. It was work that required a keen eye & a sharp mind. 

Despite this fact, (something Raj constantly bragged about,) he did not notice how his best friends suggestions of telescope orientation & data processing always seemed to get results. Not even a little bit.

Howard?

Howard knew them all.

His learning rate was unsurpassed in both breadth and scope. Not even by Sheldon. Not even a little bit. How else could he suggest small so-called “minor” improvements, seamlessly mind you, without their notice. Howard knew their disciples, perhaps not quite as well, but well enough. It was the only thing which kept the dreams at bay.

Howard Wolowitz did not have nightmares. But the few times his mind wasn’t racing from learning new knowledge or jumping onto a new projected, his dreams filled with glowing gold light. Advanced formulas in foreign language. Different base math. Spirituality as formulated through the lens of quantum physics. It was as if the line between the material and the theoretical blurred. Dreams consisting of strange realities not yet realised. Ones which never failed making his mind filled with a single unnerving thought for days afterwards.

Everything around me seems fundamentally wrong.

Howard Wolowitz did not have nightmares. That is what he’d say if prompted. Not even a little bit. That wasn’t the reason whey he slept in silk pyjamas on silk sheets — so as to instantly feel reassured when awakening that he weren’t trapped in a sarcophagus. That he could slide out of bed. 

That he didn’t set challenging goals to keep himself occupied almost every possible waking moment. Not even a little bit. The sheer stack of academic papers, theoretical lectures, and hacking experiments he performed with exponential difficulty didn’t mean anything. Not to him. Not really. 

He didn’t hack US military sources for fun or domestic terrorist purposes. Not really.  Not even a little bit. He couldn’t quite articulate the reason why his secret criminal leaning hacking was searching for, other than something important... Despite anonymously tipping off the agency’s he’d penetrated afterwards, justifying that as the reason, Howard couldn’t help but feel disappointed. As if he’d come close to rediscovering something personally precious, and having it slip through his fingers. Something he wasn’t sure even existed.

Howard Wolowitz was not a lot of things. 

He was not the image he portrayed himself as. 

Not even a little bit. 

That is, what he’d say if asked any personal question.

Howard Wolowitz was sure who he was. Without a doubt. Not even a little bit.

And if you asked him if he was in love with his best friend Raj?

Not even a little bit.

Chapter Text

Howard Wolowitz woke up from yet another nightmare. In a stream of a lifetime of bad sleep, this particular dream always stood out from the others. A glowing ring of spinning metal. Covered in arcane symbols. Full of a vertically tumultuous whirlpool.

He checked the time. Two-twelve in the ‘morn. He cursed in Yiddish.

He’d be up for hours at this point. Sleep never came easily after that dream.

Quietly sliding off his silk bed as easily as a greased pig at a carnival Howard booted up his home server from sleep mode. He usually only used his laptop the few times his friends came over. Neither of them had any clue the night drawer next to his bed contained  several military decommissioned systems Howard had painstakingly daisy chained together into a robust efficient server. 

Partly as neither suspected Howard would be the sort to “requisition” decommissioned tech heading for the shredder, but mostly as neither suspected him of having the abilities and knowledge to do so. The insulation each dresser was stuffed to the brim full of sex toys didn’t hurt either.

Popping the cover off the back of his laptop Howard pulled a USB chip of his own design from where I’d been tapped as storage. After all, who would expect a laptop quite obviously used for online gaming and porn to contain a USB key more powerful than current military tech utilised?

The chip crammed into a double thermos of unusually thin—but strong—aluminium. Strong acids floated between the layers of metal. Should someone physically try to access the PCB board by drilling the cover off? Hydrochloric acid would destroy the chip before their very eyes. The usb connector itself was hidden behind a push lever like a popsicle. Several buttons for entering a code were required before the keys unlocking. 

Three wrong attempts?

Well, lets just say the potent C4 charge would render the information & would be thieves hand inert. 

Makeshift supper computer humming to life, Howard tiredly rubbed his face. Bleary. In the last several months odd things have been happening with his clearance. The amount of times where NASA had put a hold on his clearance, coinciding with Raj’s telescope access refusing to connect seemed particularly odd. 

Then there were the odd happenings with military chatter lines. Maybe it was all the science fiction talking, but to Howard this smelled of conspiracy. 

“Prometheus?” He mumbled to himself before checking his connection was secure. “What does the airforce have to do with a video game?”   

Prometheus release date in two months was making waves throughout all the online gaming communities which peppered the internets far flung corners. It seemed to be all anything worth their comic books talked about.

Vividly intense graphics with no lagging or clipping.

Intense storylines rumoured to be scripted by Hollywood directors. There was rumour that Stan Lee himself worked on some of plot. All topped off with an advanced weapon array which blew Halo completely & totally out of the water. The entire internet was abuzz with Prometheus’s upcoming release. 

Then the modding community blew a gasket.

Prometheus was not like any other game on the market.

What made Prometheus different was it could not, under any conceivable circumstance, be pirated or modified. The few people who claimed to have early access to the high def disks found out the hard way. The game wasn’t encoded on the CD disks. Rather, it was a massively complex software node.

The true game, the entirety of it, was hosted on some supercomputer running so fast it made the university’s server farm seem like dialup. The entire projects origins shrouded in mystery.

“Huh, thats weird. Since when does the Airforce make video games?”

Curiosity peaked, Howard looked closer at the connection. He was bouncing his signal off the home satellite, off a HBO’s west coast geostationary satellite into a US internal communications array. Technically, every single step of his operations was illegal. Each one carrying a heavier penalty than the last. 

This. This was something interesting. This was something to keep his mind occupied. Getting a sneak peak at Prometheus, hell a chance to learn about it before Sheldon for once would be a dream come true. The question was how to do so?

“It’s all funneled back to this one base...” Howard muttered to himself, checking then rechecking the IP data flow. “But then where does it go?”

It seemed that all the information got sent via high speed internet to some Air Force base in Colorado before . . . Being sent elsewhere?

“Cheyenne Mountain?” Howard puzzled through his hazily remembered list of military bases which tightened up their access in the recent months. Cheyenne was one of those. Perhaps technically most of those. A few years ago it had quietly and quickly dissipated from most lists of supply lines. The base locked down tighter than a nuclear middle silo. Which, ironically enough, it was at one point in time. 

“Nothing there.” His murmured exclamation  meet his energy with a wave of fatigue. This — this was something unexpectedly complex. A bit too complex. Multiple layers of codes and encryptions surrounded the project. Howards backdoor access not withstanding, he’d hit the limit of what he could do. Safely without risks that is.

There was nothing on the end of the line. For all the complexity of encoding & encrypting high speed information, sending it from wherever the player was to this highly classified military base, there was no information he could gleam. Every passive scanning attempt made returned nothing.

No system serial. Or data packet processing speed. Not even basic geographic coordinates! It was as if the information hit a dead end — being beamed to some sort of advanced alien super computer — before returning seamlessly back into the loop. 

Nations would kill for this sort of computational power.  “Well If i can’t find out where it goes, I should still be able to play...” Howard mulled over his options. 

A direct focused attack, even disguised through background channels was sure to get noticed and traced. But playing the game itself? That wouldn’t be. Or at least, not in a way which could be traced back to him.

The setup involved used finely manipulating their home satellite dish. First the Wolowitz signal disguised as protocol struck HBO’s west coast satellite in middle orbit. Then it got boosted, sent higher to what seemed like an arbitrary black area of space that Howard knew housed a geostationary-ish military Black OPS communication satellite. Signal routed through military channels, and thus deemed legitimate, the service was bounced directly to Colorado’s Cheyenne facility. By a stroke of luck there were military grade receiver dishes stealthily build all over the mountainside.

 To return the exact steps were followed in reverse operation. As a downside HBO’s signal beamed over a wide area of Southern California. Luckily Howard was able to boost the signal over several wavelengths that his custom machines satellite could then combine into a cohesive image.

Eyes glancing through coded lines, ensuring there were no tears in his net, Howard started the connection process. Seconds ticked by as the loading screen animation hovered in place. For a moment it looked like his plan wouldn’t work. And then the introductionary scene began playing.  

The signal could be traced, easily in fact. But the complexities of US military muscling onto Hollywood satellites would take some time. And then even if they did, so what? HBO’s satellites weren’t sensitive enough to be able to triangulate signals with any precision from the sky. Best they could do would be discovering it came somewhere in the sweep of the Pasadena & greater Los Angeles area. There were thousands upon hundreds of possible sources. 

Howard would stay safe in the noise.

Eventually, someone somewhere would figure out cutting the signal would be easier to do. With launch date in less than two months, they’d want to keep the game as secretive as possible. Wouldn’t they?

It could be hours or days until someone noticed the extra noise and did something about it. Clicking the on-screen return function Howard breezed through the tutorial. Sleep forgotten as finally — finally — he had something to hold over Sheldons head.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile in Cheyenne Mountain:

“Sir?” A small beeping alert brought Samatha Carter’s attention from her paperwork glancing over the Icarus base. “Were we still running tests on Prometheus? I thought Dr. Rush fixed the encoding problem?”

“For the last time Sam,” The Grey headed general began, “call me Jack. We’ve worked together for enough years you can drop the protocol. You know I hate it.”

The small beeping alarm continued to go off.

“Yeah okay, look — someone from the testing department must have not gotten the memo, what do you want me to do Carter?”

Sam fixed her old teammate turned superior with a dull glare. The beeping alert was interfering with the Grey super system the ancient race had left them before extinction. Simulated plans for the Icarus base evacuation plan fussed in midair. The Icarus stargate equation hurried deep in the game took MUCH of the Grey’s computer core processing abilities.

Encoding a quantum super computer with an equation of remarkably sophisticated complexity strained even the fastest of Grey systems. 

“I want you to do something about this.” Carter said as the beeping rose. “Now.”

“Allright Carter, whatever you wish.” Jack easily agreed picking up his desk phone. “Operator? Yeah tell the Prometheus team to log off the system, we need the core for gravitational well simulations.”

I’d been months since the two had been in the same room. Running Stargate Command and piloting a Hyperdrive ship ferrying the lifeblood of the Icarus base took up a lot of time. They’d just gotten together for a reunion during the rare eclipse of overlapping scheduale when the alert had gone off.

“What do you mean there not running it?” General Jack asked the operator. “Gone for the day? Then who is?”

“Sir,” Carters hands flashed over dials and buttons. The various equipment which allowed for their (admittedly limited) manipulation of the Asguardian core. “Ive traced the signal back. It goes to GeoStat satellite #12.”

“Well that’s not right.” O’Neills brows rose in confusion. “I thought we operated on a closed circuit system here Carter.”

“We do sir.” Carters hands speed in pace. “It seems the communications network has been piggybacked into the closed circuit from somewhere. I don’t know who is doing it or how.”

“Well figure it out! You’re the smartest person I know whose presence I can still stand.”

A smile cracked Samantha’s usually still face. Even without Teal’c and Daniel this was almost like old times.

“All I can see is the signal originates from HBO’s western feed.” Sams hands stopped their clicking. “Before that its too jumbled to make sense.”

“I thought we had these Asguardian core computers. They can teleport us, surely it can decode daytime Tv?”

“I’m guessing it thinks were spying on a particular person, which we are but it shouldn’t know that, so it—“

“—goes against it’s central programming.” They said at the same time.

“I know, i know.” Jack sighed, rubbing his face.”can we at least see what the heck it is our mystery guest is doing?”

“That we can sir.”

Sam twisted a few dials, checked a few parameters, and a hologram shimmered into life above their desk.

“It seems their... playing?”

Jack snorted. “Badly at that.”

From a birds eye perspective the hologramic avatar representation ran into walls, jumped in circles, and repetitively took out/put back his firearm. 

“Well—shut the signal down carter—no need for some overly enthusiastic middle schooler getting big ideas.”

“Wait a second sir,” she began, “I think we should let this play out. Just for a little bit.”

The character wasn’t just aimlessly running into walls or glitching. It seemed whoever had hacked directly into the system bypassed through the training tutorials in order to jump straight into the game. Movements which looked robotic and erratic were anything but.

“See that?” Sam gestured. “Field checking weapons on various terrain to compute loading time. And that! Jumping from terrain to delineate clipping transitions. Whoever this is, they’re using the opportunity to test the computational limits of the system.”

“Seems like a drunk moron to me Carter.” Jack was unconvinced.

“Just give it a second sir. I want to see how this plays out.”

“It’s on your head then,” Jack walked away, heading back for his table. He picked up his phone. “Operator? Someone’s hacked into playing Prometheus. I want a tech team analysing where the signals coming from now. I don’t care if you have to get NASA or the NSA onto this — it’s a matter of national security at stake.”

The aged landline phone clicking on the receiver sounded heartier somehow. 

“God, I love how you tell someone it’s a matter of national security and suddenly all these doors open.”

Knocks sounded on his office door. “Come in!” He shouted. 

A handful of technicians holding laptops came into the room to begin setting up a mobile station. Generally the Asguardian core didn’t like having human computers nearby. It’s programing actually intentionally slowing down relative to degree of passive/active scanning it felt was necessary. 

In this case, the drag would be worth it. Anyone who could get into the bases network would be either a valuable ally....or a threat.

Some baldheaded lab geek who Jack never bothered learning the name of struck up a spirited discussion with Samantha.

“Well? What’re they doing now thats got you all so excited?” Jack asked.

“They’ve found the Gate.” Samantha replied. “Five times faster than we predicted anyone would.”

The mock stargate Prometheus whole purpose was based around itself was a scavenger hunt of mathematics and intuition. It was a test. Both logical with ever rising mathamatical concepts hidden within the game and psychological. Knowing how long someone took, what their approach was, all these things could be used together in drafting a basic assessment. 

“Is that even possible?” Jack asked.  “You said they skipped the training intro.”

Sam blinked back to the situation as her mind ran through the dozens of decision trees Prometheus had been painstakingly programmed with. 

“Theoretically someone could skip the entire cutscene introduction. But then they’d be working with only a third of the total clues. The odds of someone slipping through Home commands notice beforehand would be astronomically vast.”

“English Carter. Give me a number.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Low. Very low.”

“Soo what are we dealing with here. A PhD academic who decided hacking into government files to play video games? Foreign spies?

“Either that or a kid who couldn’t wait the two months for Prometheus to drop.”

They both looked at each other before dismissing the idea. Some fresh faced kid out there who could solve math they coudn’t? That’s possible. But the sheer interdisciplinary knowledge required to perform a targeted hack into their systems? That was hardly the sort of thing you’d find in most colleges. 

The more likely answer was a team of professionals, members of the governments allied in the secret Gate program trying to gain a leg up over the other. 

The Gate began spinning. 

“Unbelievable...” one of the techs muttered checking his monitor system. “Chevron one through three encoded and locked.”

“What?” Sams head jerked. “How much time has it been?”

“Three minutes and nine seconds.”

The animated stargates animation failed, restarting the program. The animated avatar began a radically different dialing sequence. This one not doing anything seeming of consequence.

“Oh my god.” Carter mumbled. “Vector curve triangulation.”

“Carter?” Jack snapped her attention back to him. “English please?”

“Get Dr. Rush down here fast—and some coffee, were going to be here for a while.”

“Yes ma’am.” Two techs rushed out the room.

Jack cleared his throat. “Not that I don’t love my office being commandeered by the geek squad, but what exactly is so important about these vector curves or whatever?”

“Well you see Sir—” Samantha began explaining as the door slammed open. Doctor Rush arriving.

“—do my ears deceive me or did you say someone’s using vector mechanics on Gate formation?” Rush’s sudden enthusiasm seeming almost manic over the quiet funk the man spent the last several months in. 

“Not just that—but it seems to be a non-Euclidian Euclidian spiral formation. Why haven’t we thought of this before?”

“You’d need a vastly powerful computer to crunch the numbers in real time.” Rush responded to Sam.

“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on!” Jack finally shouted.

Both scientists jumped.

“Oh, you see General, traditionally Stargate addresses are calculated with 3 dimensional axis’s as principle. But theoretically if you could utilise curved surfaces over straight lines then—”

Suddenly the power died. The room plunged in darkness momentarily before the reserve generators powered up. 

The Asguardian core had crashed.

Jack didn’t know it even could crash. 

For a moment nobody spoke. Then Jack spoke the thought everyone was thinking. “...what the hell just happened?” 

Chapter Text

“You okay?” Raj’s concerned voice asked Howard. “No offense dude, but you kind of look like crap.”

“Well la-de-dah.” Howard sarcastically responded before immediately cringing. He didn’t mean to lash out sarcastically towards his best friend—honest.

 His night had been less than stellar since rerouting the satellites and hacking into Prometheus. After about 4 hours of gametime the entire system had shut itself down. Howards path had proven to be impossible to replicate. Evidently the computer network that he had used, a wireless coffee machine of all things, had been taken offline. And so with it did his access. 

He didn’t even have anything good to show for it. Somehow Howard had spent the whole time playing with a simulated puzzle to the point where the rest of the game stopped being important. They’d probably take it out the final version anyway now that Howard’d breached their security.

Try as he might, Howard couldn’t get the spinning ring from his mind. 

“Do you guys remember that show Wormhole X-treme?” Howard suddenly asked the table.

It was lunchtime and, as usual, the gang was bouncing around from discussing topics ranging from physics to comic books, & everything in between.

“Remember it?” Sheldon scoffed. “I wish I could forget it.”

“Yeah what gives?” Raj agreed. “A twelve episode season that turned into a sixteen part action flick? Its acting was so bad it makes early 80’s things seem like Broadway by comparison.”

“Nice special effects though. Especially that season finale” Leonard added, prodding his food. “So what’s up? Why bring it up?”

“Oh—no reason.” Howard feigned disinterest. “Just thinking about the physics of how it would work.”

“Wait.” Raj’s immaculately pedicured brow rose with thought. “Didn’t we already have a conversation about how it is fundamentally impossible given the current restrictions of physics.”

“Not impossible Raj,” Sheldon interjected, “just improbable. The creation of a stable Einstein-Rosen bridge may be possible if my hypothesis of String  theory interacting within multiple dimensionally branes is possible.”

“Isn’t that like, impossible to prove?” Raj asked Sheldon.

Sheldon simply glared. It was impossible to prove. Not without a device to attempt stable wormhole generation, which in itself was an oxymoron. 

It was a lunch day like any other. Leonard, Rajesh and Howard flirted from conversational topics while Sheldon interjected. Attempting to gain mental superiority of the group. Howard let him. It would be too much of a bother to deal with Sheldons competitions on a daily basis, despite the ever growing joy such a thought brought to him. Truth be told, Howard gained a relaxed sense of detachment at such a thought. Knowing he could take Sheldon down at anytime a wonderfully refreshing thought which usually gave him peace. 

Except today.

Today Howard was tired. Burnt out. Out of fucks to give.

Sheldons voice, unintentionally or not slipping into the role of condesending academic lecturer grated on Howards nerves. It was like the professor which stole his PhD project, falsified data which lead to Howards expulsion, and then deflected to Russian soil having weaoponised his concept plasma containment technology. Worse still when he had raised a fuss about it the US government had sat him down and in very plain terms told him that there was nothing they could do for him, but that if he didn’t stop rocking the boat there would be dire consequences. That was the day which Howard lost hope. That was the day that Howard committed to hiding who he was.

But today was the day Howard was considering risking it all.

“What if, and just hear me out now—” Howard began, “—what if you subbed quantum loop theory with gravity bleeding in through higher dimensions and used the quantum instability factors into the stabilization of an event horizon?”

Sheldons face looked as if he’d ran a mile during little league soccer championships, been given an orange slice to bite dehydrated, and found out seconds too late to be handed a lemon. “Quantum loops?! Quantum loop theory! Tell me this is some sort of practical joke which Leslie Winkle’s forced onto you or face banishment from the table!”

“Leslie Winkle?” Howard asked. “Not at all. Just, well, think about it. You need to account the gravitational vortex of frame dragging into account if you stand any hope of—“

“—lalalaalallalaaaaa. Im not listening!” Sheldon literally stuck his fingers into his ears. Humming to avoid listening to the sacrilege which Howard was spreading. For a man who fundamentally believed in string theory, staking his career on it since 14 years old, Howards words were akin to competing religious ideologies preaching in the same shaping square.

“Whatsup Dummases, did I hear someone call my name?” Coincidently Leslie strode up to the table. Plastic tray full of food. She took a deep drag of her cafeteria grade coffee, eyes skimming over the table. “You look like shit.” She told Howard.

“Thanks.” Was Howards sarcastic reply. “You too.”

“Oho!” Leslie took another drag of coffee. “Well, unless one of you dumbasses knows how to fix a helium laser pulse from refracting on higher wavelengths this has been fun.”

She turned around to leave. 

Leonard reached out a hand as if to stop her, opened his mouth, then closed it. Taking off his glasses he rubbed his tired forehead. Why on earth did arguments with Sheldon always end up so draining?

“Do you have it triangulated?” Howard asked. Too tired to keep a filter over his mouth the question bubbled to the surface without his say so.

“Uh—yeah dumbass. Of course I do. It hasn’t shifted a micron since it’s been calibrated.” Leslie turned around back with interest to thrash the engineer. She looked exhausted. Bags hung under her eyes like piles of unfolded laundry. She looked as tired as Howard felt.

“Well, there’s your problem.” Howard responded.

“ Huh?” 

“You said it hasn’t been calibrated. And you’ve had that laser since what, December?” 

“January actually.” Leslie chewed the inside of her cheek. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well its obvious that the humidy shift has caused the infrastructure it sits on to warp just a smidgen. Either that or the increase of humidity is causing refraction interference through the prism effect.”

The table was silent momentarily.

Leonard took of his glasses, staring at Howard with am unexplainable sense of pure bafflement. “That’s genius Howard. Light reflecting & distorting through micro droplets of water would form a prism effect of scattered photons which would—”

“—cause the dual split Hindenburg uncertainty wave introducing a new source of noise.”  Leslie finished speaking. “Damn. Why haven’t I thought of that.”

Howard shrugged. He was too tired for modesty or caring. “Seemed simple really.”

“Well i'll be damned.” Leslie finished draining her cheap coffee with a grimace. She playfully punched Howards shoulder with an empty styrofoam cup. “Looks like you’ve got some use after all.”

Howard brushed the gesture off. Simply nodding.

Sheldon meanwhile seemed fit to burst. He kept opening his mouth to say something, but nothing ever came out. Indecision over which exact zinger to use rendering him, essentially, catatonic.

“See ya dumbass.” Leslie waved to Sheldon before walking off. Sheldon still hadn’t come up with a witty retort.

“You.” He rounded onto Howard. “I don’t know how you did it, but challenge accepted.”

“Challenge?” Howard asked confused. “What challenge?”

“Is it not enough to humiliate me in public? You have to make me spell out the demands too?” Sheldon retorted. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you talking about Sheldon?” Raj asked.

Sheldon turned on Raj. “Oh come on, stop playing. The challenging string theory with your dopey idea of using quantum loop theory — please! It would never work.” He scoffed. “Why I bet that if motivated I could come up with something that would not only work — it’d disprove quantum gravity as a big TOE contester in the first place.”

“TOE?” Raj asked.

“Theory of everything.” Leonard answered.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“So what do you say Howard, hmmm??  If you’re so confident its loop theory, go ahead big man.” Sheldon mockingly gloated. “Prove me wrong.” 

“You know what — fine.” Howard agreed. The math he’d seen in some shape or another for the entirety of his life had spiked since last night. Might as well put it towards good use. “What are your terms?”

“Hmmm….. for something with the stakes of the future of physics I feel the terms should reflect the gravity of the challenge. How about… your entire comics collection?”

“My entire collection?” Howard scoffed. “Seriously, that’s the best you could come up with?”

“Dude — don’t do it.” Raj was frantically pulling on Howards arm. “You know he’ll just win.”

“You know what, fine.” Howard agreed — with a twist. “But I’ve got some terms of my own.”

Sheldon scoffed. “As if you’d ever win. This is going to be like taking candy from a baby.  Fine then, ill humor you. What do you want if by some stroke of luck you miraculously win.” The win was said with air quotes.

“How about…you get tested again. Three separate professionals, blind trial, the whole thing.”

“Im not crazy.” Sheldon said. “My mother had me tested.” 

“Yeah, but in rural Texas.” Now it was Howards turn to push the proverbial winners gloating. If nothing else to engage in psychological warfare. “Im willing to bet the doctors there weren’t as thorough as Californian specialists will be. Besides, what do you have to lose. You’re planning to win, right?”

Sheldon glared at Howards sly grin. His face got madder and tenser by the second. 

“Fine. I accept the terms of the challenge.”

“May the best man win.”

Chapter Text

“So we agree on the terms?” Leonard went over the hand drafted document. Given the scale of bet each perspective contest or had to lose, formally drafting an arrangement contract seemed to be the best thing to do. 

Unlike the roommate agreement drafted by Sheldon, this time everyone involved got input.

“Fine.” Sheldon huffed. Irritated at not getting his way. “I suppose I can work with the restrictions of needing separate secure ‘offices’ for the duration of this little experiment. Although I must strongly object to the plebeian name.”

“Objection duly noted.” Leonard replied. His voice flat and irritated. 

“And I thoroughly object to Kripke’s presence. Why does it have to be him again?”

Leonard looked exhausted. Dealing with Sheldon was a full time job which left him with a heavy respect to single moms. “It’s because after you, Kripke ranks second in the physics department for string theory.”

“Fine, fine!” Sheldon waved that point away. “But then why does Wolowitz get Winkle? She’s going to do all the work for him!”

“Uh.. yeah dumbass. Like that’s going to happen.” Leslie huffed, irritated to even be a part of this discussion. “For starters I’ve got better things to do with my spare time.”

“Like what? And why does that mean I have to do you a favour huh?”

Leslie looked at Sheldon as if he was a particularly dim golden retriever not understanding a closed glass door wasn’t actually an opening outside.

“Because the new neuroscientist needs a tour of both the biology and physics department.”

“Pfft. Biology.” Sheldon huffed. “Almost as bad as geology.”

“Speaking of geology,” Howard raised his hand, knowing he was about to restart the arguments which’d almost been quelled. “I’d like to include Bert.”

Leonard watched the group decent, once again, into strongly heated argumentation. “Maybe we need to include a professional.” He muttered.

=== 

“Okay—so!” The no-nonsense voice of Caltech’s HR department left no room for argument. “We are all in agreement with this version of the contract, yes?” 

Sheldon looked at Howard. Howard looked at Sheldon. Janine Harris’s implied ‘It better be’  was left unsaid. Even Sheldon picked up on it.

“Fine.”

“—Fine.” Both Sheldon and Howard agreed. Neither getting what they wanted. But hey! At least now, with HR authorisation, both could afford to spend a bit more effort on their bet. Even if Sheldon (and everybody else) thought Howard’s involvement was, essentially, a doomed to failure. An intellectual death sentence.

“Then go ahead—sign it.” She pushed the thicker than initially intended quasi-legal document towards them. 

They signed it — Sheldon with great difficulty — but in the end he signed it. 

“Aaalllright.” Ms. Davis shuffling the pages together, verifying they had initialled and signed every required space. “Your studies will be ready by tomorrow afternoon at which point you can begin, and Sheldon?”

“Yes?” Sheldon said in a tone that could be easily mistaken for condescending. 

“Lose that attitude before Friday. The last thing I want is for you to push another college away.”

The implied ‘again’ was left unsaid, as was the ‘I’ll make life so difficult for you if you don’t’. 

“Fine, fine.” Sheldon huffed. “Come on Leonard, time to go to the doctors office for our sperm deposit. I want that faster broadband.”

Now it was Leonard huffing when Sheldon’s back was turned. Literally rolling his eyes. But he was trapped in the legal sense. Subsection 4 of the roommate agreement column B6 stated that: In the events of issued a formal gentleman’s wager in physics related wagers, the roommate (Leonard) shall be required to comply in the events the challenge dictated.

“—Did you have to say that out loud!” Leonard’s hissing voice could be heard over Sheldon’s yelps as the former manhandled the later literally out of the office. “But it’s factual! That’s where were going. . .” was drowned out as the door slowly swung closed. Hissing incrementally on its pneumatic hydrolics arm.

Leonard was more than thrilled the results of renegotiation had landed him on Howards team. Even if it meant Rajesh had to be stuck with Sheldon for the time being. Both serving as “counter-tamperance verifier”.

The new setup was thus:

Both Sheldon and Howard were the ones solely responsible for the calculation & creation of the physical mathematics behind their wager—IE who could create a plausible scenario mathematically in which the creation of a wormhole would be theoretically possible.

Each had a locked study in which to do their challenge, and the guarantee that no form of espionage would be taken. 

Each additionally had to have another physicist nearby in both a supportive function & eventually criticiser. Simply said it would be easier to see weather the work they were doing WAS truly the work they had done. Essentially, Sheldon suspected that Howard would cheat in some way, shape, and form.

To counter the ‘unwelcome’ work overseer each also had a friendly support member. Unfortunately since Howard’s team had Leslie Winkle on it, and since Raj was essentially a mute around women, they swapped members. 

Sheldon thought he’d gotten the best of the deal. After all, Leonard? His roommate with whom he shared rides / mutual tasks with? Even if Howard came up with something he’d weasel it right out of him. 

What he was not counting on was Janine Davis utilising her ruthlessness mid-divorce anger alongside some rather frightening legal authors to draft a contract stating that IF Raj or Leonard broke & passed any information across that their department would receive substantial cuts. Along with the individual who received the information.

Sheldon’s jaw drop of astonished surprise was camera worthy.

But then again, the spoils to be gained were equally impressive. Under Janine’s instructions Howard tagged and catalogued all his comics that were underneath the umbrella of the wager. The loot to be gained made Sheldon’s mouth figuratively water. 

Finally they each had a favour to do for the others on the team. Sheldon had to give a tour of the physics department Leslie handed off, and Howard? Howard had the distinct displeasure of helping Kripke out with something he wanted.

“So, whatcha gwot Wolowitz?” Kripke looked at him expectedly. “Unless it’s stwippers or bweing my wab monkey I don’t see what you have two offwer?”

Howard rubbed the bridge of his eyes. “So I’ve heard you like rock climbing? Have you met my friend Bert?”

“Dwa geowogist?” Kripke’s brows rose. “Why?”

“He does constant surveys of the greater Los Angeles region, especially the tar pits. They’re some great cliff sides only he knows about.”

“Huh.” Kripke’s face contorted. He nodded agreeably. “Sure, why not? But you’wre coming with. I twust dyou as far as I’d throw you.”

“I think he’s got some surveys planned for the weekend.”

“Fwine.”

That would be for the weekend. Right now it was Wednesday, and Wednesdays were for comic book night.

Chapter Text

“Dude—why did you agree to it!” Raj panicked for his friend. “You might as well just give him whatever you’re purchasing now.”

He was straight up freaking out.

“Raj?” Howard kindly asked.

“—yeah?” Howards tone snapping Raj from his anxiety ridden rant. “It’ll be fine—trust me.”

Raj was torn. On one had Howard was no slouch, he’d seen him pull out some amazing feats of engineering showing his friend had a wonderful mastery of understanding physical phenomena, but on the other hand this was Sheldon. Mr. I went to college at fourteen years old Sheldon, author of several papers, and arguably THE top specialist of string theory worldwide.

“I just —feel like you’re going to just loose all these comic books you spent years collecting. I—“ Raj didn’t know how to articulate the rest. I don’t want to see you hurt? I just want to see you happy?

He’d heard the slurs they called them on campus. How couldn’t he? Chronic shyness around woman, especially in the university setting where the ratio rarely let Rajesh speak other than in the thickest of obscuring crowds, led most people think him a mute. It is amazing for once how this came in use. People willing to say all kinds of things when your presence doesn’t even register.

“Let him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let him try.” Howard said. “Ive had it with Sheldon—and I know you have too Raj. Don’t try hiding it.”

“Will you keep it down!” Raj hissed. Glancing over his shoulder to where Leonard and Sheldon were picking up comics he sighed with relief that Sheldon hadn’t heard them. “And so what—he gets on everyone’s nerves. I’m just worried you staked your entire comics collection on something you’re going to lose!”   

“Es tu Brutus?” Howard replied. Raj winced. That wasn’t worded as well as he thought, coming out MUCH meaner than it sounded in his head. 

“Not that dude— don’t be like that.” He back-pedalled. Poorly. “I just meant that—“

“—No I got what you meant.” Howards tone leaving no room for argument. “And don’t worry. You’re not allowed to know whats going on per the basis of the contract, but trust me.” Howard stared at the back of Sheldons head. “He won’t see what hit him.” 

“If you say so.” Raj said. “I believe you.” He didn’t.

“Tell you what, tomorrow afternoon why don’t you meet up with Leonard. You guys can’t share any information, but you’ll be at least able to see I’m doing okay based on his stress levels.”

“Yeah I guess....” Raj practically pouted. “It’s just not the same without you.”

“I get that, but look—“ Howard pointed to where Leonard and Sheldon were having a heated discussion. “I’m sure Leonard feels the same way. I mean, the guys lived with Sheldon since college. He’s bound to know roughly how Sheldon will react. Besides, its only comic books.”

Raj looked from the arguing couple back to the face of his best friend. His somehow seemingly always confident face. What he’d give for that sort of confidence and bravado! Even when striking out Howard didn’t let it affect him. It was both motivational and inspirational watching Howard. Howard always seemed to have that small sly asymmetrical grin. One which both excited Raj for reasons he couldn’t articulate and filled him with confidence.

Howard was more than just a friend, but how much more Raj coudn’t tell. He liked him, of course he liked him! Howard was his safety blanket in a crowd. The one who ordered for him when his anxiety flared. Who anticipated his needs ahead of time. But they were just friends. Just freinds. That’s all they could be. Couldn’t it?

“Only comic books?” Raj breathlessly said. Nothing but the purest of care caressing his face with worry.

“Yeah. It’s only stuff.” Howard shrugged before saying something which set his heart aflutter. “People are more important anyway.”

Raj could feel his cheeks reddening with blush. Almost missing the playful shoulder punch that came with Howards statement. Oh. Why did he have to say that? Why on earth did Howard have to say that?

Spending way too much time looking at that sharp confident grin Howard was sporting, Raj pulled himself away. Privately however he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief. People are more important anyway. Howard was oh so important to Raj. 

But was Raj as important to him? 

Chapter Text

“Hey.” Howard slid past Stewards DC Anti-hero comic section towards Leonard. 

Leonard had camped out in the Marvel section pretty much from the first moment the’d entered the store. Sheldon was chattering up a storm over possible string theory scenarios in which wormholes could be stable, but Leonard was not listening.

“—pssst.” Leonard blinked. The sudden elbow playfully digging his side drew him back from mulling over his ‘Sheldon problem’. 

“You okay?” Howard spoke again. Since when did he get so close?

“Huh?” He adjusted his glasses before patting himself down. Inhaler, wallet, phone, glass cleaning kit...“Oh. Yeah — yeah, I’m fine.”

Howard glanced over to where Sheldon’s monologue had shifted from physics towards the implausibility of Ms. Invisible not dying of heat stroke — or able to see! 

“Fantastic Four huh?” Howard glanced around the store. Steward  stewed depressed by the counter. Admittedly not worse than usual, at least, that he could tell. Sheldon’s idiosyncrasies more or less demanding his presence by the counter. Absence, even partial, met with swift retribution of less purchased paraphernalia. Raj seemed to be frustratingly muttering over the ‘good guy turned on a friend for revenge’ section. He glared across the room towards Howard.

Howard met the glare with a shrug that seemed to imply ‘sorry-not-sorry’. Turning to Leonard while being conscious of Sheldon he muttered. “Hey, if we were the fantastic four, who do you think would be who?”

Leonards confused blinking reminded himself of the Tootsie-pop owl. What?

“Sheldon would probably be Mr. Fantastic.” He muttered. Mr. Fantastic differed across which era or version of comics you could choose to read, but in most of them the scientist was a humble generous man, if a touch cocky. 

Sheldon contained none of those qualities. 

Save perhaps the occasional pull-a-solution out of his arse with complex mathematics. Minus the swagger. Or effective communication. Or integration of any solution without him in the limelight. Yeah — Sheldon was far from Mr. Fantastic.

“Come on — tell me what you really think.” Howard’s tone rose and fell as he interjected Sheldon’s rhetorical question. 

“Oh I’m glad you agree! So like I said —perhaaaaps— Ms. Invisible doesn’t actually turn invisible. PerhapsꞋ̦ the actual method is...” 

Leonard drifted off paying attention to Sheldon’s rattling. That was masterful done; answering a rhetoric question with a rhetoric answer? Social niceties essentially doubled to speaking an invisibly coded language given Sheldon’s utter lack of Sarcasm & non-mathematic nuance. Since when was Howard possible of such a thing? Leonard hadn’t seen a move that smooth since leaving his Mothers home to go to college.

Leonards eyes darted to Sheldon just in time to miss the tail end of a rhetoric question.

“Yeah. I’d say it’s safe to say.” There! Howard pulled of another double statement! What did he mean. It’s safe to say? Was it though?

“Oh for sure. In fact — I’m sure Leonard has an opinion on which fantastic four member Raj—” Howard winked so obviously it baffled Leonard how Sheldon could missed it. “—would be.”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Ughhh...” Brain finally kicking into gear with the game they were apparently playing, Leonard responded who “Rajesh” would be. “I guess the Thing?”

Sheldon frowned, shrugged, and nodded simultaneously with agreement in an eerily accurate parroting of Draco Malfoys meeting a polyjuiced Harry & Ron. (I didn’t know you can read?) 

“Well, I guess I can understand how Raj would be the Thing. For one thing he is the awkward one out.” 

Leonard couldn’t help the escaping snort of laughter. Did. . . did Sheldon not understand the Irony of listing the very reasons Leonard himself resented about him? Also — if Sheldon thought they were talking about Raj — what the heck did he mean by “awkward one out?” Was that like, socially? Ooorr...something else more racially motivated? 

“Plus Raj is brown, which fits with the Thing being orange.” He did not just come out and say that. 

“Sheldon — what in the actual fuck is wrong with you sometimes?” Leonard chided him. “We don’t talk about people that way.”

“What!” Sheldons shrill tone drew the attention from what seemed like half the damn store. “I’m just saying. Raj is from the tropical subcontinent of India and foreign to American culture along with seeming to be incapable speaking to women. While the Thing is orange and—“

“—ah-ba-ba—ba!” Leonard practically beatboxing fat scat beats keeping Sheldon from verbalising that thought further. Face reddening from the, count it, —two, —three, —four glares being aimed their way.  He glared at Sheldon in a way practically screaming ‘take the hint dumbass’. 

Hint not taken, Sheldon opened his mouth with the intention to continue speaking. Instead he was derailed by Howards contribution visibly throwing him off track.

“I think what Leonard is trying to say,” Howard began, shooting Leonard a Look™. “Is that it sounds like you’ve likely got a lot of reasons as to which fantastic four character we’d be. But that he’s obviously feeling unwell. And that, perhaps, heading home  where he can sleep of a migraine while you write all those reasons in this brand new Fantastic Four journal you’re getting—“ Howard whipped out the journal in question. “—would be a better plan.”

“I was?” Leonard was the one confused now.

“You were.” Howard added, mostly for Sheldon’s benefit. “And since it’s on the way, Raj will be the one to drop you off for your appointment Sheldon. Since Leonard isn’t well enough for it.”

“I dont know.” Sheldon mussed. “While I’m typically all for keeping doctor appointments, the whole reason originally was for a little extra pocket money for faster internet bandwith...”

Sheldon looked Leonard over. Seeming to think things through. Leonard on the other hand met Sheldon’s inquisitive stare with all the flatness of a grumpy cat. Sheldon’s presence was infuriatingly trying at the best of times. But today? It was unbearable.

Sheldon completely missed Leonards not so subtle cues. “Must be a doozie of a migraine — ive seen my mother make that face on a number of occasions.”

“Right.” Leonard snarked. “A migraine.”

“Tell you what,” Howard not so subtly herded Sheldon over to Stewarts register. “Why don’t I get Raj ready while you cash out, he’ll take you to the doctor while I stay with Leonard to make sure his migraine gets better, and then we can all go to the apartment after that.”

“Well that does sound like a somewhat reasonably organised plan,” Sheldon thought it over. “And you know how much of a stickler I am for organised plans. Plus if Leonards migraine is anything like my mothers I know better than to get in the car with him. “

If glares could kill, Leonards would maim.

“Very well Howard. I accept.” Sheldon agreed.

“Great.” Leonards sarcasm entirely lost on Sheldon. “That’s terrific.”

“Isn’t it?” Sheldon dryly chuckled. “Anyway, ill be out in the car getting a head start on this weeks Flash. Be a dear Howard and tell Raj to hurry up.”

“Ill be right on it.” Howard intoned. “See you in a bit.”

Sheldon meandered off towards the store door. Howard glanced back over at Raj, checking his emotional state. Raj glared back. Yup — still pissed.

“Gimme a sec Leonard, ill be right back.” Howards went to walk across the store when Leonards arm stopped him.

“Not that i don’t appreciate a break, but why are you doing this?” Leonards brows furrowed like a seagull peeping for launch.

“Please, I’ve seen that look before.” Howard frankly admitted. “Usually in the mirror. I love Mah, but dear lord — is that woman such a pain to deal with sometimes. If you don’t make time for yourself you’ll never get any.”

Now Leonard was more confused. Not that Howard was a bad friend or anything, but this sort of frank emotional honestly ran at odds to the one-dimensional hyper sexual persona he’d fallen into pegging him as over the years. 

“You have to unapolegetically take it.” Howard continued, smirking. “Why do you think I drive a moped around town? That way Mah can’t find some reason to tag along.”

“That’s ...” Leonard adjusted his glasses. “..actually genius.”

“Yeaaah.” The door bell jangled as sheldon walked out the door. “Hold that thought for a moment — i gotta get Raj.”

“Yeah okay.” Leonard puffed his inhaler. “Guess ill just.. wait a moment?” Holding for six, Leonard exhaled for seven. This. This was not how he’d planned the day going. Sheldon acting up sure, that wasn’t hard to predict. But Howards surprisingly mature emotional honesty? It was weird. Unprecedented. 

Leonard was left reeling at the implications. If everything he knew about Howard was false, what did that mean? He’d always considered Howard a friend — granted not a super close one — but a friend nonetheless. This was the part of physics which Leonard loved the most. Not being proven right, but being wrong.

Witnessing that reality differed from the framework of assumptions was, at its very core, what physics was about. Some physicists devoted their entire careers towards a single question, one they deemed worthy of study. Others drifted through theorems and experiments as the study dictated. Leonard now had such a question, one he’d honestly never thought to think about prior. 

How well did he really know Howard?

Was there more underneath the surface? And if so, what surprises did the future have in store?