Her dad never changed. Light hearted yet so caring, fiercely protective yet so often completely oblivious to the wavering emotions of those closest to him. His natural ignorance to human feelings and sentiments was frequently mistaken for a cavalier attitude. He was a jovial man in most regards and generally saw the best in everyone.

Pam knew how fond her dad had grown of Roy over the years, and while she was tip toeing strenuously around the subject to not cause him any distress, the conversation wasn't going how she had planned at all.

"I'll come and get you and bring you back." William was saying. Pam's eyes closed in frustration.

"Dad, I'm still not sure I'm coming." she said tentatively. "Mom and I…"

"You had a fight, you'll work it out. I haven't seen you in a while."

"It's not just that Dad." she said. Pam paused. "D-Did Roy call you too?"

A silence hung over the air. "He was crying when he spoke to your mom." William's voice softened. "We haven't got the full picture here yet, have we, Pam?"

Wounded, she turned her eyes to the ceiling and pressed her lips together.

"It's Roy isn't it?" Her dad continued. "I can't believe that my Pam would do that – run off with someone else. Your mom says you're living at a man's house – the man you work with, the man you taught to drive stick shift all that time, right?"

Pam dropped into a chair at the table off the kitchen and rested her forehead on her hand miserably.

"It's not like that, dad." she said tiredly.

"So this is what I don't understand. I am certain my Pam wouldn't do something like that. So I'm left to ask myself what exactly happened between you and Roy. If you did not leave Roy for that reason, then something else happened, right?"

The love and concern seeped out of her dad's words. Pam was so flabbergasted at his speech she didn't know what to say. She closed her eyes again, gripping her cell to her ear so tightly that little inflections of pain were shooting through the heel of her hand and up through her fingers..

"Pam?" William called. "Your mom didn't mean to take sides against you. Roy was very upset when he called us. She feels badly about it."

"I love you, Dad." Pam said, her eyes watery. "I'll come and see you soon, I promise. I'll tell you everything."

"I love you back." he replied with feeling. "Please tell me who you're living with and why, Pam. Put the old man's mind at ease."

She sucked in her breath. "Jim. A friend."

"The friend you taught to drive stick?"

"Jim who I taught to drive stick." she repeated.

"Whose yearbook photo you showed us?"

"That's him. But I'm not living with him, I'm only staying here temporarily." She quickly pointed out.

William whistled softly into the phone. "That's what I want to clear up. Why did you leave your home, why did you leave Roy? I'm not talking about you running off to live with another man – what really happened?"

Pam managed a watery smile. If her dad had been there with her at that moment she would have hugged the man until he couldn't breathe. "I just want to see you, Dad. It's complicated right now."

"Can you come up at the weekend, Pam?" he asked.

Pam shook her head, forgetting they were long distance. "Uh… I don't think so, Dad. Ummm… I will let you know when I'm coming."

"Do you need any money? I'll send you whatever you need."

"Oh, Dad I'm fine, really." she insisted. "I need to get off the phone now, okay." From her seat at the table she heard the loud bang of a door that was two hours away and her mother's voice penetrate the distance as she greeted her husband.

"Well, I won't keep you – as long as you're okay and you know you can ask me for anything, alright?" William told her reassuringly.

"I know Dad."

"And Pam. One thing, and be honest with me, won't you?"

"Ummm ….yeah?"

"Did Roy hurt you?" The question was sharp, cutting through the space between them like a knife, slicing her resistance clear in half. Her chest rose and fell briskly and she buried her eyes in her hand.

"Yeah, Dad, he did." she said, feeling very tired.

-TO-

The house felt strange and unwelcoming. The house that she had lived in for five years, painted in the front room, sketched cartoons in the back yard. None of it felt familiar to her anymore. It was simply a pile of wood and bricks. A house, never a home.

A home was warm and friendly, like the home she and her sister grew up in. She had been surrounded by her family of four, with more than enough love than she would ever need. Her parents, Penny and herself, they lived together in their home and their family made it special. It was a place that felt good, where she could always go without question. A piece of her had mourned greatly when her parents had sold the home of her childhood and moved away.

She had had such hope when she and Roy accepted the lease on this house. She had found her independence, she had Roy, she had a job and her art. She was energetic and enjoying her life for the most part.

Roy had never really been violent towards her before they lived there. Sure he had a quick temper, fast with a sharp elbow or nudge, swift to catch hold of her arm, thick, callused fingers leaving purple rings around her flesh. Nothing she didn't explain away as a heat of the moment thing, Roy was a strong guy. Now that she was apart from him, she was starting to see the warning signs she'd been so happy to condone at the start.

No. It hadn't gotten terrible until they were living here. The night of Michael's birthday. Jim's prank on Dwight. Roy's jealousy. His rage.

She looked around the hallway – the hallway where she'd made her final escape, feeling nothing but shadows falling over her. Jim's strong hand fell on her shoulder.

"Okay?"

Pam turned to him. "Yeah." she said, a little breathily. She just wanted to get some more of her things and then go. Walking into the kitchen, she glanced at the window, seeing the comforting light gray of the patrol car sitting outside keeping watch. Jim's idea, of course.

She moved here and there around the house, setting a fast pace. Jim waited downstairs while she raced back and forth from the bathroom to the bedroom, filling up two bags. Most of her things had been untouched by Roy – surprisingly to her, however her pile of sketchbooks and stack of watercolor works in progress along with her art supplies were nowhere to be found. Missing was also, frustratingly her little notebook where she had written numbers and addresses. The thought that Roy had taken that turned her blood to ice. All the details for her family and friends, friends she hadn't seen for years but still maintained a weak contact with were inside. Her sisters address and work details. Mee-maw's emergency contacts. She groaned, thinking of the possibilities in Roy's impulsive and angry hands.

She stood indecisively in the bedroom that had been hers and Roy's. Old ghosts began to howl around her, taunting and teasing her with memories of thick suffocating silences, dangerous moods, wild fists and boots. She snatched up her bags and fled downstairs again.

Jim was standing in the hall, looking down at the carpet. Following his gaze she could see dull poppy blooms of blood in the carpet, the twisted badges of the war she had unwittingly been enlisted in. Jim looked up, meeting her eyes regretfully. Unbeknown to either, they were both remembering the night that Pam had fled to Jim's home, bloody and battered.

"Hey," he said, lightly rubbing her shoulders. She nodded and moved to the front room. Jim followed behind her, watching as she picked up a limp looking plant in a small white pot.

"Cactus." she said, a little embarrassed.

Jim wandered into the room further.

"Roy?" he said, pointing out a fairly large misshapen hole in the plaster wall over by the window.

Pam simply nodded, not looking at him.

"How long…." he trailed off, looking down at the carpet.

"Long enough." Pam said, feeling tenser by the second. She studied Jim's face, unusually pale and thin looking. He looked exhausted. She suddenly felt herself hit with an unrelenting guilt for dropping everything on his shoulders. Clearly it was taking a toll on him too.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled before she realized she had opened her mouth. Jim looked at her questioningly. "You've been dragged into this." Jim shook his head, clearly going to object, yet she carried on speaking. "I hate this house. I really do. I'm going to find a really nice place far away from here, that's safe and secure and happy and only good things will happen there. One day."

Jim turned his eyes back to the wall. Pam could see the stiffness in his upper body, how tense he was. It was all too real here. It felt like a scene of a crime that had left all it's ghosts behind.

"Roy punched that wall." she mused unhappily. "He was angry and he just put his fist clear into it."

"He certainly was mad." Jim said, fingering the loose edges of the plaster. He still didn't turn around. "That time- ages ago – when you were out sick for a week… was that him too?" He heard a weak whisper in agreement from behind him.

"Roy… has always been a bit… careless… it was a weekend and he was a little blitzed." she sad softly, her eyes far away. "He came in angry and half drunk…. He just, he kicked a chair across the room and he grabbed my arm behind me a bit too hard. Sprained my wrist. Black eye." she said, a pained expression over her face as she sat down on the couch.

Jim finally turned around and Pam gasped a little on seeing his pale cheeks, red, slightly watery eyes, and slumped shoulders. He was seeing first hand the small but vivid shards of her abusive life with Roy and he was hurt by it. A despair overtook her at seeing what was happening to him. This was all her fault. She just made everything bad for everyone, like Roy said.

"What made him so angry?" Jim asked, his voice tight.

Pam spoke warily. "That day?" she was tired. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing made him so angry, nothing particular. He just was. It would just build up in him and explode sometimes."

"I'm really sorry you went through all of this." Jim turned back to the wall. "Wish I'd known." he mumbled bitterly.

Pam rose, walking to stand beside him. "I didn't want anyone to know, Jim. Still don't." she added. "I was ashamed. I didn't want pity or anything."

"I'm sorry anyway." he said, turning his head to the side. He looked so guilty and so dejected that she genuinely felt heartbreak. He was a good guy, he cared so much about the people around him. She really hadn't thought far enough how she had impacted his whole life, his mood, his feelings.

"Jim." she said, reaching out and pulling on his arm gently to make him turn back to her. His hazel eyes were shiny with tears and he looked at her helplessly. Almost in tandem they opened their arms up, each wanting to comfort the other. Pam pressed her chin on to his shoulder, clenching her arms tightly around his warm neck. She felt his stronger arms course around her back, his hands rubbing soothing circles.

"I'm okay." she whispered into his ear. "Don't be sad, it's over now."

"I'm very glad you're okay." he mumbled back, pushing his face gently into her hair.

Pam was feeling strangely comfortable against Jim, feeling very right at the moment. His body was warm and strong and secure. She felt protected in a way she hadn't felt before. Quietly small overwhelming tears rolled out of her eyes and onto his shoulder.

The sound of a scratchy throat being cleared broke them apart minutes later. The police officer on watch had come into the house.

"We've got an emergency. Can we ask you to leave now?"

Quickly Pam picked up her cactus plant and saw Jim lift the two bags she had packed from upstairs. Thanking the officer for keeping watch, they left and climbed into Jim's car.

Jim reached to turn on the engine, but stopped as Pam laid her hand on his arm.

"Jim." she began. "I'm going back to work with you tomorrow." she said with determination.

Jim looked at her in disbelief. "Pam, I really don't think-"

She shook her head fiercely. "I want to. You'll be there, and there's security… it's safe and I'll be okay."

"But you're injured." he said.

Her eyes were hard and set. "I can't sit around. I need distraction."

"You need rest."

"It's my decision." she said matter of factly.

"Why?" he asked.

She held up her hands. "Everything feels so hopeless. I just want to be normal again."

"Beesly," he turned to her. "I know you don't feel as though you have a lot of hope right now. I get it." he looked at her meaningfully.

"So?"

"So let me hold onto it. Let me hold onto hope for you."

Pam nodded at him emotionally, eyes watering, completely overwhelmed by his devotion to their friendship.

"I have so much hope for you." he said, smiling at her.