As it so happened, neither Jim nor Pam got any more sleep that morning. Pam, although drowsy from the painkiller, was still filled with nervous adrenaline and moved about restlessly in the bed before giving up and lifting herself slowly up to wander downstairs and make some coffee.

Up in his bedroom, Jim was fidgeting constantly in bed. Not unlike Pam, he couldn't find a position that was comfortable enough to rest in. His shoulders ached when he rolled over. A dull pain had taken residence in the right side of his neck. Quarrelsome thoughts were overtaking him.

Jim was troubled. Despite the awful circumstances that had brought Pam to his door, he was undeniably happy that she was there, always a footstep away. Not just that she was safe now, and after seeing the lingering mementos of Roy's rage engraved over her body, he was inexpressibly relieved that she was away from that. Relieved that she came to him; where she was protected, where she was out of harm's way.

He had encouraged her thoughts of going to visit her parents. He knew it was true, it would definitely be a good thing for her. He thought about her Mom. he had only seen her that one time in the office, when she'd hugged Roy like he was the son she never had and Jim had almost vomited up his ham and cheese. Pam had never actually introduced them to each other, although he had really wanted to meet her because Pam talked about her so much and with such genuine fondness. He wanted to hear stories about Pam as a child and Pam's life outside of Scranton and ask some fun questions of his own of her mother. But he couldn't, not with Roy there, sucking up all the space.

It all came back to that one fact, again. He wanted Pam to be happy. He agreed that visiting her parents would be something she should do. That didn't change the fact that a serious bone of contention within his emotions was tormenting him. He also did not want her to go. His affection for her had only deepened in the days they had spent together. For that he felt a complete jerk; no decent person would take advantage of a woman as vulnerable as Pam was right now. And yet, he'd almost told her how he felt, twice he had bitten his feelings away and said nothing. She needed a friend. Nothing else right now.

He did love her, as a best friend should, and also more than a best friend should. It was exhausting, the chaotic balancing act he was performing. One day he would tell her, one day he had to tell her. It just couldn't be now.

Jim turned over again, dispirited and sighed heavily. It was hard being the good guy sometimes.

-TO-

Some time later, Jim trundled downstairs to the smell of fresh coffee. He hadn't heard Pam get up, but there she was in the living room, a mug of hot coffee in her hand. Unlike Jim, she was still wearing the t-shirt and sweatpants she had worn to bed. She smiled up at him when he came into the room.

"Coffee, Beesly? You're getting good at this." he teased. It did smell especially good after such little sleep. He watched as she got up and moved to the kitchen.

"You didn't have to." he said, as she handed him a steaming mug. She just shrugged. He guessed that she had not had any more sleep either after he had left her room.

"Of course I did. You're dangerous without your coffee first thing. Didn't want to take the risk." Pam said with a sly grin. Jim gaped at her for a moment, then laughed, happy on seeing her playful mood.

"Besides, you need the fix for the office later." She said pointedly. "I'm counting on you to keep Michael off our backs."

Jim put his mug down quickly on the counter. "The office?"

"Yeah. You need to go back to work."

Jim studied her serious expression, unsure what to make of this turn of character.

"The advocate called just before you came down." She said. For some reason she couldn't bring herself to call the woman by her name, preferring to stick with a less personal method of reference. "Appointment with a therapist at two this afternoon. Two hours." she said offhandedly.

"This is a good thing," Jim said encouragingly, sensing her earlier cheerfulness had been an act. Pam nodded sadly.

"I just didn't think it would happen this quickly." Pam bit her lip.

Jim reached out and rubbed her shoulder affectionately. "Hey, she did say it would be fairly soon. And the fact that you're seeing a therapist adds weight to the case against Roy."

Pam shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest. Looking up at Jim with hurt eyes she stepped back, turned around and walked to the window. She stared out at the empty road, her eyes wide and didn't speak.

Jim observed her actions quietly, worrying about her. After a few moments of silence he spoke again.

"Pam?" he cleared his throat nervously. Still she didn't turn around, or give any indication she was even listening.

"Hey," he said, again. "It's okay if you don't want to do this. I don't think it's meant to be easy. That's why you should take the appointment. Get the hard parts done."

She exhaled a shaky breath. "I… don't want to relive it… have someone looking at me while I tell them that Roy…" she broke off, swallowing repeatedly. "I'm not strong like you. I can't keep going through it."

Jim made no move towards her, thinking better of any sudden motions that might frighten her further, wanting to let her turn around at her own comfort. He spoke to her back.

"What? You are the strongest person I know. You survived this for years. You stood up to a madman and you came out alive." At that, Pam swung back around slowly, throwing Jim a small, appreciative smile. "Besides I don't think there are any rules… just talk about what you feel okay to talk about and leave the rest for another day."

"I just…"

"Scared?"

She gripped the hem of her shirt, twisting it in her hands. "Yeah."

It was practically a whisper. She looked like she'd break down again any minute, her eyes were shiny with unshed tears, her fingers shaking and her skin was waxy and pale.

"This is good, Beesly. You've come a long way so far. I'm-" he stopped suddenly, hesitating. She tilted her head, mildly puzzled.

"I'm proud of you." Jim muttered self-consciously, averting his eyes to the floor.

Pam looked away, studying the kitchen counter as a sudden rush of emotion overtook her. Hopeless tears pricked at her eyes. She couldn't remember a time when someone had said anything as remotely nice to her as that, and with such sincerity. She blinked sharply and swallowed hard.

"Well," she said, with a voice that wasn't quite steady. "I guess you deserve a special breakfast this morning. Sit down." she pointed at the small table.

Jim made a move to object, but looking at her, he kept quiet. He felt sad, seeing the look on her face when he had said he was proud of her; like a puppy kicked for simply sitting still. He hadn't meant it to upset her, of course, he was just saying how he felt, but something was wrong in that – it hadn't made her happy. He watched her, scurrying around the kitchen getting milk out of the fridge and picking up plates and so on. He knew her well and he saw how she was fighting her emotions and he sensed she wanted to be doing something rather than sitting and allowing everything to overwhelm her.

Soon they were both sitting at the small table, breakfast and fresh coffee in front of them. Jim took a bite and smiled warmly at her.

"This is really good Beesly." he said. "I might have to just keep you around here in case I get too used to this, eating stuff that tastes like actual food."

"You're not bad at cooking." she replied truthfully.

He shrugged. "Thanks anyway." She was only picking at her breakfast, he saw, taking small bites sporadically and pushing egg around her plate with her fork. "Seriously, though, you know I don't expect you to cook for me."

"Suck it, Halpert." She said absent mindedly.

"You don't have do anything around here-"

"Jim." Pam interrupted. "It's just breakfast. This isn't a quid pro quo thing. You've done a lot for me, you're still doing a lot for me. I don't think you'll ever know what you've done for me through this. And what you said just now," she lowered her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." she whispered, not meeting his eyes. "Just… thank you."

Jim grinned at her, a little shyly. "I meant it. Although I thought it might have upset you."

"No, no you didn't upset me. I mean, I just haven't done anything to deserve it, that's all, I'm a lousy house guest – all I do is sit around and cry and wake you up and run up your cell phone bills, waste your time-"

"This is good, let's get all of this rubbish out now so we can put it behind us." he frowned.

"Huh?"

He half smiled at her, then rolled his eyes. "House rule number one. You can't trash yourself like that. Don't do Roy's work for him. Whatever he said, whatever he made you feel, get it out right now. Only good things from now on, okay?"

Pam was thoughtful. Then, she closed her eyes and nodded. "Good things."

"Okay, then, Beesly." he said amiably.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I am so grateful to you, though. For everything."

He looked up at her, his expression serious. "House rule number two, Pam. And this one is non negotiable, non optional."

"What is it?" she said.

"Remember that you have people in your life that love you a lot." Jim said, a little guiltily.

-to-

The outside of the building looked clinical, formal. It reminded Pam of her old school building – stiff and a little old fashioned. She hoped it was less daunting inside. She climbed out of the car, feeling great butterfly wings flutter around her stomach.

"Are you sure you want to take a cab?" Jim leaned over to the passenger side, rolling down the window. Pam turned around.

"I'll be alright. You go to work, okay? I'll see you later."

She wasn't fooling him, he noticed her body quivering and the quick, sharp in out motions of her chest. Inwardly he felt a little nervous for her, which was stupid really, Roy was in custody still, and Pam was going into a Doctors office, for goodness sake, for a therapist appointment. She'd be fine.

Still he couldn't stop worrying about her.

"At least call when you get home and let me know you're okay." He said, mentally reminding himself to mention to her about going to get her a new cell phone this evening.

Home. He couldn't help that, either. He thought of his home as hers as well. It just came naturally to him, he was so comfortable with having her there.

"I will, I promise." she said. "Have a good afternoon, and remember, your job is to keep Michael distracted if he asks questions about me. I'm definitely not ready for sessions with Michael and everyone else on this."

"Got it, Beesly. Give 'em hell." He said fondly, watching her enter the building. He waited a moment, and then, with knots in his stomach, turned around and drove toward the Dunder Mifflin Scranton office.