Jim was tired. He was tired a lot lately. He'd gone up to bed around half past eleven last night, despite the fact that it was early for a Friday night, despite the fact that Mr and Mrs Beesly had only left not fifteen minutes before. He'd checked in on Pam, and feeling much relieved at seeing her sleeping soundly, had gone straight to his own room. He had not slept though. The hours morphed seamlessly from one hour to the next, his thoughts twisting, turning, chasing each other around his brain, avoiding the drowsy relief of sleep.

Somewhere past three o'clock he got up, stepped lightly down the hallway, and peered round the door into Pam's room.

She had not moved much during the night. A faint shimmer of early morning light fell over the bed, creating soft shadows around her. A small smile played across Jim's face; she was sleeping so soundly, the blanket drawn up protectively against her chin, obscuring the lower section of her face from view. Stretching himself up, Jim leaned forward slightly, hanging on to the door. Observing her quietly, he could see the same pinched and exhausted look about her face, her too thin limbs protruding keenly against the blankets. Satisfied that she was indeed sleeping peacefully, he went back to bed to finish another restless night.

-TO-

If Jim had had any unconscious anxieties about going to a bar with a man he had only been introduced to within the hour, he had found himself surprisingly at ease. Pam's dad was the kind of man who was welcoming and friendly, without any overt attempt of ingratiating himself. He possessed a rare quality that screamed all round good guy from across a room and Jim had found himself at ease almost immediately.

"We know you're not to blame here." William Beesly had said almost straight away. Jim had simply nodded in surprise and swallowed a large mouthful of his beer. The man sighed softly. "I gotta say, I feel like a real jerk."

Jim hadn't expected that at all.

"I can't help feeling that I let her down." William had said. Jim was quiet, sensing the man had wanted to unload. "Pam was our first. You're really cautious with the first child, especially a daughter. We were overprotective. I was overprotective." he corrected himself. When William had looked up after a moment, his eyes had been wide and dull with a deep hurt. "Why didn't she come to me, Jim?" he had croaked out miserably.

Jim had to think. "Because… because she loves you." he had said simply, a little embarrassed. William had only tilted his head, drawing his eyebrows together questioningly. "She was ashamed." he had added. "She just got caught in this… horrible situation. She thought you'd be hurt by it, and she didn't want that."

William had dropped his head at that. "That's my Pam." he said, choked up. "Loves everyone else more than herself."

Jim knew it to be true. Now, as he lay restlessly in his bed recalling the conversation, he thought about how she had been willing to let herself be physically hurt by Roy. What had she said… something like, If I'm being hurt, no one else is. She didn't want to tell her mom because it would have hurt her.

Jim had had a good talk with William.

"I gotta say, I want to go tear Roy's head off." William had told him. Jim, of course, understood. Thinking about that small punch to the jaw he himself had laid on Roy still brought a slight joy to him.

"She told us you got her out of there." William had said, looking him square in the face.

He had been modest. It wasn't exactly true – he hadn't made her leave, or been there – he was the one she came to.

"No, not really. I just-"

"Said you got worried and told her she could stay with you."

That was when Jim had noticed the man's hands, tracing round the ring of his glass, something he had often seen Pam do. They had the same hands, graceful and smooth with long, slender fingers. Artist fingers.

He had hedged. "Roy… got along with everyone." he'd said. "After a while I got a sense that something was going on. I thought I saw him…." he had stopped, noting the flush on the mans face. "Well, I just asked her. A few times, actually. I offered her my place if she ever needed somewhere to go." he'd decided to spare him the details. Pam would make up her own mind about what she wanted her parents to know, or not know.

William had looked absolutely miserable. Jim recalled the look on the older mans face with pity.

"There's a lot she's not telling us, Jim." he had said. William was treating Jim like a confidante, like an old friend. Jim had been quite touched the man had been able to trust him so quickly. Difficult words climbed up in his throat and stuck there. Unable to spit them out, he'd settled for an agreeable nod and another mouthful of beer.

"As a father, you're supposed to stop this crap from happening." William had growled. "You're supposed to keep your kids safe." he cupped his beer. "What kind of man are you if you can't do that." he muttered angrily.

"Pam doesn't blame you." was all Jim could think to say at the time. It was true. Jim himself didn't think her father was at fault in anyway. Pam had hid everything from everyone.

"If you are at all responsible for what happened to her, in any way, then so am I." he'd said. "And so is Helene and everyone who ever knew Pam these last years. Nobody saw anything wrong. Nobody."

"You did."

Pam's father was wallowing up in guilt. Jim felt pity for the man. Hadn't he himself apologized to Pam enough times for not seeing sooner what was happening? Her father though, seemed to be mentally tearing himself up for every time he believed he had ever failed her. It wasn't fair.

Jim rolled over and lightly punched his pillow. It was gone four o'clock now. His mind just would not settle.

"She said you were a good guy." William had later said, shaking Jim's hand as he prepared to leave with Helene for the hotel.

"Thank you." Helene had said, becoming overwhelmed. She grasped Jim's hand tightly.

"We'll be seeing you tomorrow, then." William replied.

"I've written our cell phone numbers out and left them on the table in there." Helene had said, pointing. "Just please call if you need to. Any time."

Of course he would.

Jim turned over again in bed. Finally drifting into sleep, he took the parting words of Pam's father with him, echoing through the darkness as it pulled him down.

"Helene, don't worry. She'll be okay here."

-TO-

It felt like her head was rattling. There was a loud buzzing sound, repetitive and constant. Slowly, Pam's eyes opened and she lifted her head. She followed the sound, her senses beginning to wake and reached for her phone off the night table. The clock on the screen told her it was nearly five in the morning.

Her phone continued to ring. Number withheld. Given the hour, she felt a stir of panic inside of her. Very few people had her new cell number; Jim, her mom, dad and Penny, Toby. And Geraldine, of course.

She sat up, alarmed. What if… her mom and dad were driving to their hotel late last night. What if there had been an accident?

"Hello?" she answered quickly.

"What have you done to me?" she heard. Pam sat up, shocked and leaned forward.

"What have you done?" he slurred again.

Pam closed her eyes a moment, feeling the small room sway a little in front of her.

"Roy, you're drunk and this is not a good idea." she finally said, with as much calm as she could muster.

"Listen to what you done to me." he barked loudly.

Pam drew back. "I didn't do anything to you. Don't call me again." she said forcefully. "And I'm calling the police."

"Wait, Pam, wait…." he said, softer now. "Don't hang up. I can get over there in minutes. Just listen to me."

Her stomach lurched. The phone slipped out of her sweaty grip and bounced to the carpet. She could hear Roy's voice rising, ranting, growing infuriated, as always. She leaned over and snatched the phone back up. With a certain amount of satisfaction, she disconnected the call, cutting his complaints off in mid-air.

Falling back against the pillows, she gulped several deep breaths down. Like an omen, the cell phone began to vibrant again. Grabbing the bed cover, she pulled it up to her chest tightly, feeling her limbs liquify and quiver. She huddled in the bed, hating Roy, hating herself. The sound of his voice, invading her ears, so close to her and she had turned to jello right away.

The phone rang and rang and rang. The answer machine icon was blinking. Then the messages started coming.

In tandem. The phone rang out, a text message or two beeped in, the phone rang out again.

The messages were awful. Rambling, drunk and full of accusations and insults. Roy sure had a way with drunken words.

Dam. I thought you killed yourself. LIAR.

Nice seeing Helene and William today. I bet. They know that you are a lyin cheatin bitch

Dont piss me off I can get over there in 10 mins

the bitch lives, dam

Pick up the phone

You dont get to decide you dont get to treat me this way answer or I'm coming down there right now

Pam stopped reading after the first six messages. Emotions exploded inside of her; panic, fear, anger. Anger. Her chest throbbed painfully, her breath was hoarse and rasping. She didn't hesitate. Pam dialed nine one one.

She was promised an officer would be out as soon as possible. She wasn't going to hold her breath.

Angry. She was so Angry.

Pam lurched forward sickeningly, throwing her hand over her mouth; and sprinted across the hall into the bathroom; barely making it. She vomited over and over, until there was nothing left but dry heaves and her stomach lurched painfully. Her left side was on fire. Everything was spinning so fast. She couldn't think properly. The police were coming. Roy was coming.

She staggered to her feet, and slouched down the hall to Jim's room. She didn't waste time knocking.