The light was shining through the flimsy blind covering the hospital window. It was morning, and for a moment Pam didn't know where she was. She sighed heavily as it all came back to her. Her mom had taken her in as she requested, and she had spent the night being evaluated by several different doctors who couldn't figure out what was wrong with her.
And here it was, morning, and despite the medication she now had in her system, she still remembered the feel of Jim's arms around her waist as he pulled her in for a kiss. And the way he made her laugh, sometimes at the most inopportune times. All the pranks he pulled on Dwight, his exasperation at Michael's antics... it was all still there, as a part of her as any other memory. How could he have only been real to her and no one else?
The doctor had told her that her symptoms were atypical of schizophrenia, and that usually schizophrenics aren't able to self-diagnose themselves as such. So they were still trying to figure out what could be causing her "hallucinations" and there was talk of sending her to a psychiatric hospital for a better evaluation.
The door to her room opened and her mom and dad walked in, all smiles. They both gave her a kiss on the forehead before sitting down.
"How are you feeling today, sweetie?" her mom asked gently.
"I'm fine," Pam answered flatly.
"You still... having... episodes?" her dad inquired.
Again she sighed, and replied, "They weren't exactly what you would call 'episodes.'"
Her mother and father shared a glance, and then her mom said hesitantly, "Roy wants to come see you today."
"No," she replied.
"He's just really concerned - "
"No, I don't want to see him. He wasn't that 'concerned' when he accused me of cheating on me and then smashed up the kitchen."
"Pam, were you... I mean, was there someone else? I'm sorry honey, it's just that none of this makes and sense and you - "
"Stop. Okay, just stop. No one is going to believe me no matter what I say."
"I want to believe you, but you're talking about a person that doesn't even exist."
"He was real, Mom. He was my friend. I told you. I talked about him all the time." She didn't dare mention the casino night, even though she had a vivid recollection of telling her mom everything. It was just all so fucked up and she had no idea how to fix any of it. If her own mother wouldn't even believe her... well, it was just hopeless.
Suddenly the door opened again, and there was Roy, holding a bouquet of flowers, looking contrite. Her parents excused themselves and he came in and sat down.
"Look, Pammy, I'm sorry... I just thought there was something going on and I... well, now that I know it's all in your head..."
"What? Now that you know it's all my head that makes it better somehow?" She felt the blood rushing to her temples.
"No, that's not what I meant."
"Get out," she said sharply.
"Pammy..." His eyes had tears in them as he pleaded with her.
"No. Get out. This isn't about you, Roy. It never was."
"What do you mean? Of course it's about me. You practically left me at the altar."
She looked away and hissed, "Just. Go."
He stood up and backed away toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow," he said as he left the room.
Her parents came back immediately, but at that point she didn't want to see them either. She asked if they could just give her a little time to herself and maybe come back in an hour or so. Reluctantly, they agreed, but not more than five minutes later there was another knock on her door.
She groaned and said, "Come in."
It was another doctor, who introduced himself as a neurologist. He explained they wanted to do some tests on her brain to rule out possibility of an aneurysm. She solemnly agreed, but she had the strangest desire to just get up and walk out of the hospital. Somehow, despite all the evidence to the contrary, she knew that Jim wasn't just some side affect of a brain aneurysm, or the onset of schizophrenia, or anything else that was "just in her head." She knew it down to the very essence of her soul. But she had no idea how to get him back.
Until, that is, her savior walked through the door of her hospital room. She was staring off into space, still doped up from medication, so she was barely aware someone had entered. When she turned to see who it was, it was pretty much the last person - besides Jim himself - that she expected to see.
"Dwight?"
"Hello, Pam," Dwight said stiffly as he approached the chair next to her bed and sat down.
"What... what are you doing here?" She noticed he was holding a green folder in his hand.
"I heard about your condition."
"My condition," she muttered.
"Let me get right to the point. Yesterday after you had your little 'breakdown' in the office, I had that name - Jim Halpert - stuck in my head, and I couldn't figure out why. So of course before I went and checked all the county health records, I searched through Dunder-Mifflin's own records. Specifically, Michael's. And I found this." He handed her a piece of paper from the folder.
"What is it?" she asked, her heart racing.
"A resume." She looked at him quizzically as she examined the paper, and Dwight continued, "In 2002, Michael got this resume off of Monster.com and called the person to interview, but he canceled and never actually came in. His name was James M. Halpert."
Author's Chapter Notes:
Pam gets a few visitors, one of whom is unexpected.
