Sheldon stepped away from the ticket counter and made his way back to sit in the waiting area, extremely pleased that his previous bench was still empty and he could sit in the same place as before. He was a little dismayed that he had to wait until the wee hours to board his train, but his only other option would have been to wait until tomorrow afternoon and he didn't want to have to wait that long. His departure time was only a matter of hours away and as keyed up as he felt, he knew he wouldn't fall asleep before then, even though it was already well past his usual bedtime.

He took a moment to read through his travel documents, quickly memorizing the route information for his next stop and his transfer to another train. He'd made the decision for the first leg of his trip partly because of departure time and partly because of the route, but had chosen the next segment because it was a train route he'd never been on and it was going far away.

Making a mental list of items he would purchase in the morning when he arrived in Emeryville, California, he pulled out his laptop and went online to look up hotel and bus information. He didn't know anything about Emeryville other than that it was a stop on the Coast Starlight train route, and the only reason he was getting off the train there was to change trains and ride the California Zephyr all the way to Chicago, though he already planned to get off in Denver, just to take a break.

Sheldon checked the time on his laptop and decided he would need to purchase a few things for the night, so he reluctantly left his bench in search of the shops he'd seen near the ticketing office. In the small twenty-four travel shop, he located the things he would need: a packet of single-use mini-toothbrushes, a bottled soda, and some snacks. He figured he could buy a proper set of toiletries once he got to Emeryville and had a proper bathroom in his hotel in which to clean up. For now, one of the mini-toothbrushes would work for tonight and the others in the pack could be used further down the line.

He'd never gone on any journey on such a whim before. He always had everything he needed when he traveled because he always had all trips strictly planned down to the smallest detail. He found it slightly distressing to be without his usual things and to be forced to perform his usual nightly routine in such unusual circumstances. But having made the rash decision to leave so suddenly and without any real plan as to where to go, he found it appropriate to have to improvise in the moment. Was he punishing himself or teaching himself a new level of spontaneity? He was not a spontaneous person, by any means, but in this moment he was finding that he could find ways to cope.

His empty stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had left without eating dinner, so he opened a packet of gummy bears and entertained himself by sorting through them and eating them according to color—white ones first, yellow ones next, and so forth, saving his favorites, the green ones, for last—eating slowly in order to help pass the time until his one a.m. departure.

When it was close to midnight, having finished the gummy bears and a granola bar, he used the men's room, washed his hands and face, and then set about scrubbing his teeth with the tiny toothbrush, using its curved, pointy end in lieu of floss. Once he was as clean as he could manage under such circumstances, he went out to await the announcement calling him to board the Coast Starlight to Emeryville.

He settled into his coach seat, stowed his shoulder bag at his feet and reclined his seat. He had purchased a "Comfort Kit" in the Lounge car and he set about using it to make himself comfortable for the remainder of the night—inflating the little neck pillow, shaking out the blanket, donning the earplugs and eyeshade. He was grateful that he did not have a seatmate for this leg of his journey and he prayed that no one would sit next to him at any of the upcoming stops before he reached his destination.

The trip up the coast to Emeryville wouldn't be too long, but it would be long enough to get a good night's sleep. Suddenly he was very tired and missing his pajamas and his comfortable bed, longing for a calming cup of warm milk. With that wave of self-pity washing over him, he finally gave into mental, emotional and physical exhaustion.

As the train slowed in its approach to the Emeryville station, the coach attendant came and gently shook Sheldon's shoulder.

"Sir, we'll be pulling into Emeryville in a few minutes," the older gentleman said. "I believe that's your stop."

"Thank you," Sheldon replied, clearing the sleepy gruffness from his throat. He yawned and scrubbed at his face, feeling slightly disoriented and muzzy-headed as he squinted into the bright morning sunlight pouring into the train car.

He gathered his things and smoothed his hair with his fingers as he waited for the train to stop. He was already anticipating ducking into the station restroom first thing. He needed desperately to use the toilet and even though he loved trains, he still had a rule against relieving himself onboard a moving vehicle whenever possible.

As he exited the restroom, he made his way outside and found the bus line that took him to his hotel, where he checked in, took a luxuriously long shower, then went downstairs to eat an early lunch.

Back up in his room, he took out his laptop and went online to search for nearby shopping and a bus route to take him there. He found a Target store in the area and he figured he could get pretty much everything he would need for now.

He decided to make a phone call to President Siebert's office at the university to officially request some time off. Because of his recent discussions regarding his request to change his field of study and the impasse they had reached, Siebert was more than willing to allow Sheldon to take as long as he needed and they agreed on a 6 week sabbatical. Sheldon wasn't sure he'd need that long, but it gave him some leeway in deciding when to come back.

He also called his mother, trying to let her know he was traveling without going into too much detail and without actually lying to her, something he'd never been able to do. He didn't want her to try to talk him into going back to Pasadena and he didn't want her telling him to pray about his troubles.

Calling Amy was another matter. He considered it, but the thought made him nervous and he decided to put it off. She'd be at work right now anyway, and he felt it would be better to talk to her in the evening when he wouldn't distract her from her research.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he would say to her. He had stormed out of her apartment in such an upset state that he had to think hard to remember the actual conversation. Everything that had happened seemed blanketed in a thick emotional fog. Anger, frustration, fear? He wasn't sure how to categorize what he had been feeling, as he usually considered only what he had been thinking when analyzing encounters he had with others.

He shook his head to clear it. He would decide what to say to Amy later. Right now he had to go shopping. By himself.

Sheldon pushed his shopping cart through the Target store, first going through the toiletries aisles, then the clothing section where he picked up some fresh underwear, a couple of colorful t-shirts and a pair of pants. Despite this morning's shower, he felt filthy because he was wearing the same underwear and clothing he'd worn the day before. He planned to change clothes—and take another shower—the minute he got back to his room. He also stopped by the luggage department and picked out a small toiletries bag and a medium sized duffle—large enough to accommodate his purchases, but not too large to carry on board easily.

His last stop was in the grocery aisles where he picked out a few more small packaged snacks and drinks to carry onto the train over the next few days. While he would be having meals and could get some snacks on the train, being able to choose exactly what he wanted ahead of time gave him some comfort and a sense of security and control. He was already dealing with the fact that he couldn't keep to his usual daily schedule. Friday night was usually the night for Chinese food and vintage video games. While he could probably find a Chinese restaurant nearby, it wouldn't be the same as the restaurant they usually ordered from. And while he did have several games on his laptop, it just wasn't the same as being able to choose from his large library of games at home. And he would have to play by himself.

He took a deep breath and chose a few items before heading for the checkout lines.

Back in his hotel room, he quickly showered and changed clothes and used the plastic laundry bag offered by the hotel to separate his dirty clothes from his new clothing. He was planning to do his laundry once he arrived in Denver Sunday evening, and figured he had just enough clean clothes to make it there.

He spent the rest of the afternoon watching a little television, and trying not to think. Although he had set off on his journey in order to clear his head so that he could think, he found that he didn't want to think about anything just yet. Maybe his head wasn't quite clear yet. He was still struggling with his new environment, which was as much a change as those he had been facing at home.

But at least this change was one of his own choosing. And it involved trains. He was already anticipating the leg of his journey from Emeryville to Denver—the changing landscape, the journey through the mountains, the movement of the train. It was easier and more fun to think about trains than to think about his life back home.

At some point, he dozed off and awoke in the early evening. It was just about twenty-four hours since he last spoke to Amy. It was almost exactly a day since he stormed out of her apartment, on the verge of tears over the building pressures around him.

String Theory

Leonard and Penny

Amy hinting at wanting to move in

The loss of his place of refuge at the Comic Book Store

He wanted to talk to her, but didn't quite know exactly what he would say. Still, he felt more calm and relaxed than he had felt all day, so he pulled out his phone and hit the first speed-dial selection.

"Hello? Sheldon?" Amy began as she answered the phone.

"Hello, Amy," Sheldon replied. His voice suddenly failed him as his mouth went dry. He quickly moved over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water.

"Are you all right, Sheldon?" Amy asked, a little anxiety coloring her tone.

"I'm fine, Amy, thank you," he replied when he'd found his voice again. "Um…Amy…I…I wanted to say…"

"Yes?" Amy prompted. "What is it?"

He froze.

He couldn't quite grasp what her mood might be. As much as he liked her and as suitable a match for him as she had always seemed to be, he was often baffled when it came to her emotional state. How was she feeling tonight? Sad? Angry? Hungry?

He decided to simply say what he needed to say.

"I'm sorry I left so abruptly, Amy," he said in a rush. "I'm sorry if I may have hurt your feelings."

"Thank you, Sheldon," she said more easily. Her voice lightened a little. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine, Amy," he continued. Though he was still nervous, it was good to hear her voice. "I'm in Emeryville, just up the coast, near San Francisco."

"I see," she replied simply.

"Um…I'll be leaving tomorrow for Denver. I'll call you tomorrow night if I can. I'll be on the train overnight and I'm not sure what the phone reception will be like. I'll be traveling on the California Zephyr, going through the mountains…" He could feel himself on the verge of babbling about the train, so he simply stopped talking.

"Okay," she responded.

"Are you at home?" Somehow he wanted to know. He was picturing her face and suddenly wondered what outfit she was wearing tonight and what she was doing.

"I'm visiting Leonard and Penny this evening," she answered without elaboration.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them.

"Amy," he began, "Are you mad at me? You're not talking very much."

"I'm fine," she answered. "I'm not mad at you. I just don't know what to say right now."

"Okay," he replied, unsure what to make of her comments. But she had said she wasn't mad and he wanted to believe her.

"Well," he went on, "I just wanted to check in and let you all know that I'm okay. I'm just trying to sort out a few things, okay?"

"Okay," she said again, her voice losing its cold edge and beginning to sound a little more fragile.

He was running out of things to tell her and he was becoming uncomfortable. He didn't want her to get upset. He certainly didn't want her to get mad at him, or worse, to start crying.

"Well, it's getting late and I need to eat dinner and get some sleep so I can be ready to catch the train tomorrow morning," he said, figuring it wasn't exactly a lie. It was an easy way out of the conversation, anyway.

"Okay, Sheldon," she said. "Thanks for checking in. Talk to you tomorrow?" Her voice had certainly softened now.

"Yes, of course," he reassured her.

"Oh...okay. Bye."

Sheldon stared at his phone for a moment, wondering if she was being truthful when she said she wasn't mad at him. It was so hard for him to read people's emotions in person, let alone over the phone, and sometimes Amy's feelings were the hardest of all for him to figure out. Maybe it was a girl thing. Or maybe it was a girlfriend thing. He didn't quite understand it completely, but in the past four years he had found that there was indeed a difference.

Whatever the case, he decided he would take Amy at her word and assume that she was not angry with him. At least then he'd be able to sleep.

He made his way downstairs to the restaurant to eat dinner, deciding that trying to find a Chinese restaurant in a strange town was simply too risky for his digestive system. It would be a very bad thing to be trapped on a train if he began to experience any kind of gastric distress. He chose something simple and mild from the menu and ate with his phone on the table, reading about the areas he would see from the train during his journey tomorrow.

On his way back upstairs, he saw something in the hotel's gift shop window that stopped him in his tracks. He promptly went inside and purchased it. It was perfect.

Once back up in his room, Sheldon scheduled a wake-up call and set about sorting through his clothes for the morning. He plugged in his electronics to charge overnight, and then brushed his teeth. He hadn't bought any pajamas at Target, partly because they didn't have exactly what he wanted, and partly because he didn't know how they would fit into his standard pajama rotation once he got back home. So he climbed into bed in his underwear and fussed with the cheap, thin hotel pillows until he felt somewhat comfortable.

He lay on his back for a while, inhaling the stale, flat air of the room, listening to the heavy silence, broken only by the occasional hum of the air conditioner kicking on.

He wanted his own bed and his own room and his pajamas. But the thought of home brought with it all the issues he had run away from.

Purposefully making his mind blank, he clutched the blankets tightly, rolled over onto his side and curled up as tightly as he could, and finally fell asleep.

In the morning he was upset but not surprised that he couldn't move his bowels. Travelling, stress, and not being able to follow his usual meal schedule were each enough, individually, to disrupt his bodily functions. At this point, his body was in as much turmoil as his mind.

He continued on with his shower, put on fresh underwear and stood in front of the mirror to shave. But as he stared at his reflection, something caught his eye. He hadn't shaved in about forty-eight hours and the shading of stubble on his cheeks and jaw seemed to change the shape of his face. It was an interesting effect and he decided he would keep it for now.

Leonard's comment about Sheldon riding the rails like a hobo came to mind. If he were going to emulate a rootless hobo, perhaps a beard would be fitting. For as long as he could stand it, anyway.

He dressed and packed his things, took one last look around the room to make sure he had everything, then made his way downstairs.