It wasn't going well so far.

Pam didn't know how long they had been there, sitting opposite each other like bookends, the silence a thick and heavy road block between them.

At first, it had all been routine, as expected. Rosie – call-me-Rosie – had gone through the basics with her. Pam had responded politely to the fundamental information asked, emergency contact (Jim) should Pam get sick or pass out mid-session etc etc. They had gone through confidentiality and expectations, the time and days of sessions and Pam's level of comfort. It all seemed very clinical and sterile to Pam. The room was fresh and clean with a faint bleach scent in the air. She was already uncomfortable, feeling herself at contrast with the immaculate order of the office.

Then Rosie had asked what had brought her there.

For Pam, time stopped. She dried up, her words abandoned her and she could only sit looking at the floor helplessly as the gaps between the ticks and tocks of the clock that was turned away from her stretched out longer and longer. Her breath was stuck in her throat. She was an absolute failure, even at this.

"What would you like me to help you with?" Rosie asked cordially.

Silence.

"I understand that you have had a relationship breakdown recently?" she said kindly.

Pam swallowed.

"Yeah." she responded dryly.

"Were you married?"

"No. Engaged."

"Long term?"

Pam shrugged. "Three years or so."

"Live together?"

"Yes we did." It was starting to feel like a relay to her, the passing back and forth of an ice cube. She shivered involuntarily, wishing she could turn the clock on the table around to face her.

"Were things good between you and your partner, Pam?" Rosie asked.

Pam hesitated, biting down on her lip. "Yeah… pretty good… mostly." she said, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Any children?"

"No… Roy didn't seem interested." she said, remembering his indifference towards any conversation about their future family. And marriage, she recalled. "We never really discussed it." she added.

"Had that been an issue between you? You wanted children and he didn't?"

Pam shrugged again. "No, not really. We really didn't talk about it much."

Rosie was scrawling casually on the notepad on her lap. "Communication problems?"

"Sometimes." Pam was feeling irritated. She had a chapter and verse about her relationship problems written on her face, in bluish-turning-green coloring spread out over her left cheekbone, why did she need to go through this? Was this Rosie blind?

"How do you feel about how things ended with Roy?"

Pam was quiet again, wondering at the question. She hadn't really confronted her feelings yet.

"Confused, I guess."

"Confused. That's okay." the woman told her. Rosie's tone was gentle and her voice was soft and pretty, with a lilting harmony to it. It was really a voice that belonged to a twenty something, early twenties at least, although Pam would guess that Rosie was nearer to midlife than her small frame, and youthful visage would indicate. The lines around the eyes could always tell you a womans true age, her mom often said.

"I don't know how I feel. About Roy. About anything."

Rosie smiled at her. "Do you feel the issues between you were your fault?"

Pam lifted her head and stared back at her, a flash of hurt in her eyes. "Yes. No. Some of it. I feel… ashamed." she said, and burst into tears unexpectedly. Rosie casually passed over a box of kleenex to her.

Pam sobbed into a tissue for several minutes. Finally when she looked up to begin her apologies, Rosie was placing a glass of water in front of her and smiling warmly.

"Don't apologize." Rosie said, pre-empting her reaction. She waited a moment. "What do you feel ashamed about, Pam?"

Pam sniffed. "I feel ashamed… I wasn't good enough. I couldn't be what he needed me to be. I made him angry." A great sob escaped her. "I stayed. He was so nice to me at first. But I couldn't stop him and I should have!" She said, her voice thick with tears.

"He hurt you." Rosie said seriously.

Pam nodded. "He hurt me."

"Physically."

Another nod.

"Violently." Rosie added firmly.

Pam nodded again. It was all she could manage.

Rosie smiled at her again and held her gaze meaningfully. "I hope you're hearing what you're saying, Pam." She waited a moment. "You said "He hurt me." Roy hurt you. Do you think a person should be be ashamed that another person has chosen to use physical violence against them?"

"I- uh- couldn't help him… be what he wanted…" she mumbled. "I loved him."

Rosie leaned forward, resting her forearms on her notepad. "Being in love with someone is perfectly natural. But abuse is motivated by a desire to control and not by love." she said earnestly.

Pam dabbed at her eyes with a fresh tissue. "I left him." she said.

"You were very brave."

Pam looked up, her eyes narrowing. Rosie nodded her approval.

"It takes enormous courage to leave a situation like that. " Rosie's expression was kind, sympathetic.

"I left before… I-I always went back." she said. "Pretty stupid, huh."

"Many women do. Going back to an abusive relationship does not mean there is something wrong with you. It's the situation that's wrong. Do you see the distinction?"

"I was afraid no one would believe me." Pam mumbled, twisting a tissue between her fingers.

"People who are abused often struggle to admit it to themselves. It is a natural reaction to a traumatic situation. We are agreed on the fact that Roy was abusive to you. There's no question about that." Rosie gently motioned to Pam's face.

"Yeah."

"Tell me about your other relationships. What support do you have in your life?"

Pam bit her cheek. "My mom and dad, they live a couple hours away from me. They know things are over, but not anything more." she smiled wanly, thinking of her mom. "I'm going to see my mom in a few weeks though."

"And here, who's here for you?"

Pam blinked, looking down. "When I left Roy… he… attacked me" she said quickly. "I got away and I went to my friend, Jim. He's let me stay there in his house. We work together." she added.

"How is it, for you, being in a house with a man? How do you feel?"

Pam smiled, her first genuine smile since she'd entered the office. "Jim's very laid back… he doesn't pressure me or ask me too many questions. He's been really great, actually, considering how much I've disrupted his life."

"Are you safe there?" It was a direct question.

Pam straightened in her seat. "I feel...safe. ..with Jim around.. yes. Not on my own, I guess. Jim is kind of… protective over me. We've been good friends for so long. He helped me to leave, really."

Rosie scribbled again on her notepad, waiting for Pam to continue.

"I mean…after all that time….. It's… like all the lights had gone out. Roy stole my reflection, he made it his own." And there it was again, the tears running down her cheeks relentlessly. She didn't bother trying to wipe them off this time.

"It was like Roy was pushing me off a cliff, and Jim was there at the bottom, waiting to catch me." she tore the tissue in her hand into two, looking down at it.

"I really believed I was going to die." She sobbed.

-TO-

Pam had been dozing on the couch when Jim arrived home. She sat up quickly, picking up the remotes and putting the cushions up straight, before catching herself. This wasn't Roy's house. Jim wouldn't care if a pillow was on the floor or dinner wasn't on. Still, she felt a nervous weight drop into her stomach.

"Hey," he came into the room, holding out a brown box.

"You got pizza?" she asked. It smelt amazing. Jim beamed at her.

"Seemed like a pizza kind of day. You hungry?"

Pam turned her head towards him gratefully. "It smells really good. Pizza cafe right?"

"Definitely not by Alfredo." he grinned. She heard the clatter of dishes being moved about and silverware being collected. Jim came back and put everything down on the coffee table. Excusing himself, he made his way upstairs.

Pam rubbed at her face, taking the moment to ensure that there were no errant tears left to tell on her cheeks. Soon he bounded back into the room, now wearing jeans and a grey t-shirt. He sat down next to her on the couch.

"Michael was kinda busy this afternoon." Jim told her, a devious look in his eye. "He really didn't have time to ask me any questions."

She raised her eyebrows at him, intrigued.

"Yeah. Someone might have confided to Dwight that they were concerned that Michael was a little depressed and needed a friend. So you know, that's what they were doing all afternoon."

"On no!" She laughed. "Poor Michael."

Jim chuckled in response. "Yeah, he stuck to him like a second skin."

"I'm sorry I missed it."

"Getting Michael to show me his fake crying from acting class really convinced him. Dwight was removing all the sharp objects from the office when we left."

She giggled, almost choking on a mouthful of pizza and took a long drink. Her throat tickled, she ended up coughing loudly, grimacing at the hot pain that shot through the left side of her body.

Jim flinched. "You okay Beesly?" he said, relaxing as she nodded at him. "I actually think I felt that one."

Pam cleared her throat. "Hurts when I cough." she said, a little shakily. "Hey…. there's pineapple on the pizza?"

"Well, you like pineapple don't you?"

"Yeah, but you hate it on a pizza." she exclaimed.

He grinned sheepishly. "Just eat it, Beesly." he said with a chuckle. Pam went red, somewhat embarrassed.

"Roy would only order the chicken barbecue. Steak fries." She said morosely.

Jim looked at her, unsure of what to say. She had still said very little to him about Roy, other than what he could piece together from the marks on her face and neck, her emotional state – he knew he was a long way off from having any real clue of exactly what Roy had done to her over the period of their long relationship; old scars and wounds he was only stumbling over accidentally.

"I don't think I'm supposed to ask about it…. But it went okay earlier?" he picked up the pizza box and shovelled another slice on to her plate. "Got to keep your strength up." he said at her questioning glance. "Especially if you wanna hold up against me during Dazed and Confused tonight."

Pam visibly perked up at the suggestion.

"Beer?"

"What else?" Jim raised his hands.

"No bathroom breaks."

"Nope."

"Every time the kid touches his nose?"

"If the aim is to get blasted, yes." he laughed. He turned thoughtful for a moment. "But of course, you can't have alcohol… we could pick up some some non alcoholic somewhere."

"We can't watch it otherwise." She said somberly.

"Nope. You feel up to coming to the store?" he said. Pam looked anxious at the prospect of going out, but nodded anyway.

Jim was pleased. "Great." The pizza was almost gone. "So… uh… when do you have the next appointment?" he tried again.

Pam averted her eyes to the floor. "Next week. Same day and time. Only an hour though."

"It went okay-"

She cut him off. "I don't want to talk about it tonight…" she hesitated, weighing up his expression for a reaction. "Is… is that okay?"

He hated how uncertain she sounded, how insecure abut even simple things. He wondered if she felt she might get jumped if she said something she felt was wrong, or such… it was sad. Her wonder at someone doing something for her that was so normal, like ordering pineapple on a pizza simply because she liked it that way, how she thought that was something special that owed a wave of gratitude. Damn that Roy. This wasn't right.

"Yeah you're probably right," he joked. "I might be traumatized by the inner perceptions of Pam Beesly, artist extraordinaire, solitaire queen, the Michael Scott moral compass-"

Pam nudged Jim good naturedly, smiling at his antics. "Fool." she said fondly, feeling decidedly cheered up at that moment.

Jim's intention, of course.

-TO-

They returned an hour or so later that evening, non alcoholic beer and a brand new cell phone in hand. Settling down on the couch again, they went on for the rest of the night, enjoying the movie, following their own drinking rules and playfully teasing each other, Pam pointing out if Jim's floppy hair grew much longer he could pass himself off as the guy who played Pink, which sent him into a fit of laughter so hard Pam ending up putting the movie on pause.

It was all in all a relaxing evening for them both. Pam hadn't been so comfortable in a long time; considering the week she had been through, she felt surprisingly okay right then. She sent her mom a text with her new cell number and took her medication on time.

In some way, she yearned for the simpler seventies the movie presented. High schoolers with no real problems other than drinking and smoking dope without getting busted and not pissing each other off too much. No one like Roy Anderson. No broken ribs or fingers or telling strangle marks on their necks. She sighed a little. Jim was a real lifeline. She left her appointment feeling so lifeless and empty, getting in and laying on the couch back at Jims, her body so heavy she almost couldn't move. And then in comes Jim, all light and jokes and fun and not treating her like she was a house of cards. He wasn't treating her like she was damaged or someone else because of Roy… he was just treating her like he always did, like she was Pam… he really was an amazing friend.

Overwhelming emotion washed over her, gratitude and something she couldn't quite define. A single tear slipped out and rolled away from her face. Jim smiled at her. Suddenly feeling lost, Pam leaned over slowly and rested her cheek on his upper arm. Jim was momentarily taken aback, but then recognizing she needed the comfort, lifted his arm, allowing her to shift her head on to his chest. Dropping his arm around her, he rubbed her shoulder up and down carefully, feeling her body trembling slightly.

He knew. She would be okay, she was working through it. She was relaxing, trusting him enough to let him help her, comfort her when she needed. All in all, he felt he was pretty lucky.