The irony isn't really lost on him. Her saying I can't threw him into a pit of dispair like he had never imagined possible, but now his I can't applies to everything, because he can't do anything without her. He tried for a little while to pretend he was okay. He would order takeout and poke the mystery contents in the box with his chop sticks. Occasionally he would take a bite, but even his taste buds couldn't function properly, and he eventually gave up pushed the carton away and would head back to lay on the couch.
But he didn't sleep, sleeping only made it worse, because he couldn't control his thoughts when he slept. The first night she was gone he slept in their bed trying to pretend it all away, that she would be back in the morning. When he woke up with the familiar scents surrounding him he was certain it had all been a dream and when he reached to her side of the bed to pull her close he found it empty, and he told himself that she had gotten up to make the coffee like usual but he didn't smell coffee. He called for her and she didn't answer. Jim ran through the house looking for her, he looked outside, he went back to the bedroom and then he remembered the dream he'd had, but it wasn't a dream and he felt it all again as if it were the first time. He sat on the floor and cried. She had left him here alone. He thought they had finally gotten it right and she went and left.
It had been three days since he left the apartment and there was a knock on the door. She came back, he thought to himself. A ghost of a smile traced his features as he jumped off the couch, getting a little light headed from the sudden movement, as he ran to the door and tore it open only to find Dwight standing there. He just stood there staring at the man he'd spent so many hours teasing with her and a borage of memories flooded his mind a vending machine, an umbrella and a wink, a trashcan full of crumpled paper, her laughing in a sombrero - it was too much; he fell to the ground.
When he came to he was lying on the couch. in the living room with a wet cloth over his eyes and the sound of her laughter still ringing in his ears. God what a nightmare, he thought to himself. He raised his hand to remove the cloth only to find Dwight standing over him, staring in a weirdly concerned way. "Fuck."
"Hello Jim. I have placed you on your couch after you fainted, like a girl, in your doorway. I caught you before you hit the floor, therefore you did not hit your head, so I do not believe you need medical assistance." Dwight paused for a moment taking in his appearance, "You look horrible."
"I could have guessed that. Why don't I have a shirt on?"
"When someone faints the proper course of action is to remove all restrictive clothing."
"Wasn't I wearing a t-shirt?"
Dwight ignored his question, "You have not been to work in three days. I..I am here to make sure you are not faking illness."
"I am faking. You should get me fired." He said in a monotone.
"Given your appearance I believe that is untrue. Jim I know that you are distraught over.."
"Don't say it Dwigt." Jim's voice raised threatingly.
Dwight was not listening to him, "..Pam, but.." with a speed that Dwight did not think the ghostly pail man could possess, Jim lunged at Dwight from the couch and grabbed the collar of his ugly mustard yellow shirt and slammed him into the living room wall. With rage filled eyes he hissed through his teeth, "Do NOT say her name." The two men just stood there staring at each other one with a look of fear, the other with a look of rage. And just as quickly as the surge of strength possessed him it flooded from him again and he loosened his grip and finally released Dwight's collar. In a voice barely audible Jim pleaded again, "Please, just don't say that," as he turned and headed back to collapse on the couch. Standing was too much effort. It was all too much effort.
"Jim, I'm.."
"Please," his voice cracked a little as he eked out the words. "Just go," and with that last effort at speech Jim laid back down on the couch and turned his still shirtless back to Dwight.
Dwight still stood against the wall where Jim had pushed him. He didn't know what to say or do, which he thought was highly unusual for someone with his training, so he sank down the wall and sat there staring at Jim, just waiting.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is my first fanfic ever. So please be nice-ish. After watching Money, I have decided that Jim can't go back to life before Pam. I mean last time he loved her for 3 years and kissed her once and it took him months to sort of get over it. But what if he had to try.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter End Notes:
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