She wakes up suddenly. She's not sure what woke her. The screaming and the sirens have become background noise, so it couldn't have been that. Then she notices an ant crawling on her hand and figures that's what did it. She watches its progress up her wrist with disinterest. Normally she'd flick it off and shudder, because normally she hates bugs. She doesn't feel much of anything at the moment, though. Maybe if she lays here long enough, the grass will grow over her and this can be her grave.

Then she hears her name. Her brow knits and she sits up in a hurry because she would have sworn that was-- "Jim?" She sees him and covers her mouth with her hands, thinking Oh my god as tears spring into her eyes.

"Oh my god," he cries, running toward her. She brushes the ant off her arm as she stands up and he drops the sleeping bag he's holding and shrugs off his backpack and they embrace tearfully.

"I thought you were dead," she sobs into his shoulder, clutching at him in disbelief.

"I thought you were dead," he weeps into her hair, wrapping his arms around her.

They stand there, holding each other, taking comfort in each other's arms, just breathing, unbelievably relieved, for a long stretch. Eventually she asks, "Where were you, when…"

"My parents' house. They're… dead," he admits, his voice cracking.

She squeezes him tight. "I'm so sorry," she says mournfully.

"Where were you?" he asks softly.

"In the bathroom at Cugino's. Roy was in a booth and, the wall…" She sniffles, unable to bring herself to say more.

He squeezes her reassuringly. "I'm so sorry."

"What do we do now?" she asks in a small voice.

He shrugs, shaking his head a little. "I have some water and a few camping things from my trunk, but I don't know what the hell to do. I almost got mugged by a group of kids on my way over here." He barks out a humorless laugh.

"I saw a group of teenagers robbing an old lady in an alley. I ran away before they saw me."

"Good." He strokes her back and she feels soothed. "Thirsty?" he's asking her now.

"Yeah," she admits. They break apart as he pulls out two bottles of water. He hands her one. "Thanks," she says gratefully, rinsing the rotten taste out of her mouth before drinking half the bottle in one fell swoop.

"Have you been to your apartment yet?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "You?"

He shakes his.

"Sounds like a place to start," she declares, tucking the bottle into her purse.

On the way to her apartment, they wonder together what the hell happened. Was it an earthquake? Was it a bomb? In Scranton? They talk about how Dwight would be a real sight for sore eyes right now. He'd probably be a pro at surviving in a post-apocalyptic hellscape. But that conversation trails off quickly as they realize he's probably dead, along with everyone else in the office.

Everyone but them.

She looks over at him and takes his hand in hers. She lifts it to her mouth and presses her lips to his knuckles, so grateful that they're in this together. There will always be a part of her that loves Roy, she'll always miss him, but she knows now that she can go on without him. She could never go on without Jim. And there's nobody else she'd want by her side in an apocalypse.