Hi guys. I'm sorry this was so late but I've had really bad writer's block :/ Also, I'm not sure if you guys want me to continue this story because if mot I have other stories which are already written, so just let me know.

Anyway, I'm sorry this chapter is short but I'm not sure what to do with the story so I just managed to squeeze this out…

Usual disclaimer applies.

Sheldon wondered if the odds were against him.

After making her wait for so long she was going to leave without knowing his true feelings.

He quickened his pace to the hospital, trying to avoid his wandering thoughts. It wasn't long until Penny called again.

"Hello?" he said, almost hesitantly.

"Sheldon? Where are you?"

"I'm just around the corner, I'll be there soon," he said, his breathing uneven and shallow.

"Okay, just," she paused, "hurry,"

TBBT

He had rushed into the waiting room and quickly walked to his friends.

He willed himself to speak, his chest rising and falling violently.

"Is she okay?" he could feel himself letting go, going numb.

Penny stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm, "We don't know, sweetie,"

She was wearing Leonard's hoody, her eyes red. "Leonard, Raj and Howard are not back yet,"

She sat down and he slowly moved after her, sitting next to her.

He could see the entire waiting room. The White clock stared back at him, the seconds dragging. All the limp flowers scattered around the room solemn, as if they knew something he didn't.

He could feel his heart pounding. He could hear it. His hands were clammy and his muscles tense. This all felt like a dream. There was an eerie silence and Sheldon sensed Penny watching the door to the emergency rooms with just as much anxiety as he was.

He sat on the stiff chairs. He felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him. Just when they thought that Amy would get better it all gets worse. Every time he ended up in a hospital waiting room chair. He had strict routines to uphold, yet recently it all seemed to have gone south. His routines: especially designed to increase productivity and most importantly ensure he was in control of his life and those who decided to be in his.

However now... He lost control of everything. His routine, his friends... Amy.

It rattled him to breaking point how much irony seemed to be dictating his life. It was incomprehensible.

He had created strict routines—through years of scheduling—to have it all shattered in a month.

He searched for a reason; for anything, to illuminate him. To make him understand why this ha to happen to Amy and to them.

He felt preternaturally calm, he counted the seconds, his hands cold and sweaty, his joints locked in placed. His eyes scanned the room as he heard the whoosh of the door and the shadow of the moving door on the ground.

One.

A nurse walked hastily to the phone, picking it up, her face panic stricken.

Two.

She talked quickly for before slamming the phone back down and almost sprinting through the doors.

Three.

Suddenly, doctors started to run in and out of the emergency doors, swiftly moving through one door and then back through the other.

Four.

He felt Penny shifting uncomfortably, taking deep breaths. He sank deeper into the seat.

Five.

There was noise and movement all around him yet he felt so numb and lifeless.

Six.

He was unaware of his friends that had surrounded them. Of Leonard hugging Penny.

Seven.

He was staring at the door, all energy he had left was being used to watch the scrambling doctors and nurses.

Eight.

He felt himself stop breathing. It was so easy. Denying his body the oxygen. His heart thumping furiously, protesting at the lack of the precious gas.

Nine.

A doctor walked out amidst all the scrambling and chaos. Amidst all the pain and sadness, the doctor was all Sheldon heard, "Patient Amy Farrah Fowler?"

Ten.

And he wondered—could his world really fall apart in ten seconds?