A/N - I apologize to any one this might upset or offend - trigger warning. Some parts of this were so difficult to write (yet it has been hinted at even from the very first chapter of the first story), but now I believe a turning point has been reached where we're now a straight line forward from the finish line. Thank you.

...

One of Helene Beesly's often quoted advice to her daughters was that a good laugh heals a lot of hurts. Pam knew it was a quote by a philosopher or nobel prize winner, something she couldn't quite remember.. Helene liked inspirational adages. Pam had always found them rather glib, and annoying. After all they were only words; and only specious words at that. She would simply just nod in agreement whenever her mother dropped off another gem of wisdom, although she never agreed with her, she also never wanted to hurt her mothers feelings.

Yet that Friday evening, as her stomach clenched and her sides throbbed with mirth, she thought maybe Helene wasn't so wrong after all.

They had been laughing non stop that night. It had started shortly after she and Jim had arrived at the resort, and strolling through the town together they had spotted a short sleeved pale yellow shirt in the window of a shirt store. On sale, no less. Naturally then, some cheap gold square glasses were hunted down, followed by brown pants, a yellow and gold pinstripe tie and a large briefcase later. Pam was tickled by the idea of Jim going into the office dressed up in such an outfit, so much so she ended up waiting for Jim outside the store while he paid, trying to stifle her giggles.

It was as though a darkness had been lifted. The simple act of being outside of Scranton, away from lawyers and councillors, parents and nosy co-workers and ex boyfriends and ex boyfriends brothers, it simply seemed to set them both free.

As they walked through the town that evening, headed towards the pier, Jim amused her further by putting on the glasses and marching onto the beach, an uncanny imitation of Dwight.

"They say that no man is an island. False! I am an island and this island is volcanic."

This made Pam promptly collapse on the sand, giggling madly and clutching at her aching stomach. Just as she began to think she might never stop laughing her giggles began to slow down, until Jim, attempting to sit next to her on the sand stumbled over a half buried spade, landing ungracefully front down, his head falling into Pam's lap. This caused another fit of laughter, this time from both of them, clutching at each other, tears of mirth brimming in their eyes, looking every bit like two carefree teenagers high on each others company.

The remainder of Friday evening continued on in much the same vein, sharing beers at the hotel bar, tossing peanuts at each other, one very amusing prank call to Michael ("Hello, we are calling from to let you know that you are our one hundredth customer and therefore you get a surprise gift on your recent order" "I do?" "Yes. Your order consists of an hour with an exotic dancer by the name of Jasmine.")

Stumbling up to their hotel room, far too noisily for the late hour Pam was first into the bathroom they shared. She washed her face, feeling the tipsiness of the beers inside her and loped back out of the room. Standing in the doorway she eyed the connecting door that opened to the second bedroom. A soft snore broke into her thoughts and she turned her head, looking at the double bed opposite the bathroom. A fond smile stretched across her face. Jim, sprawled out on his front on the right side, cheeks flushed with alcohol, sound asleep. She made her way over to him carefully, and after prodding him gently more than a few times and seeing that he did not rouse, she climbed up on the bed herself, curling up against him. Safely nestled in the warmth radiating from his body she closed her eyes, allowing herself to float into a peaceful sleep.

-TO-

Saturday blew in with unexpected wind and heavy rain, dampening their plans to spend the day on the beach together.

"At least the room service is good." Jim remarked casually as they lay side by side on the bed, enjoying a very lengthy breakfast.

"This is so good." Pam said, spearing a large chunk of melon with her fork. "Here." She lifted her arm, motioning for Jim to open his mouth.

"Mmmm." Jim hummed, as he accepted the melon, nodding approvingly. They ate together in comfortable quiet, listening to the rain falling on the window.

"I need a shower." Pam announced, not making any effort to move off the bed. Jim grinned lazily, a devilish glint in his eye.

"Oh, is that what that is? I thought the sink was backed up or something."

"Hey!" she objected humorously, giving him a spirited nudge with her elbow. "Speaking of, you're still wearing yesterdays clothes, you dirty drunk."

Jim's eyes flew open wide, shining brightly. "Ohhhhh. Is that how you wanna play this?" he teased, full of mischief. Rolling over, he slung his left knee over the other side of her legs, trapping them and effectively half pinning her down.

"Suck it, Halpert." she laughed, half-heartedly attempting to shove him off her. "Hey-" she was cut off as Jim's fingers found her ribs and he began to tickle her mercilessly. Howling with laughter and protest, she caught hold of his hands, moving them away from her stomach.

"Get off me, you brute." she panted, pushing against him. With lively insults and an unnecessary amount of noise, they wrestled each other in the bed, a battle of will between them.

"Come on Beesly, you can do better than this." Jim laughed, not using even half of his strength. Slowly he weakened his resistance, allowing her to push him off of her, flopping on to his back against the pillow. Heaving with laughter Pam rolled over with him until she came to a stop on top of him. There she began to lightly prod at his ribcage, exacting her revenge.

"Okay! Okay! I give!" Jim yelled hoarsely after a few minutes of this, squirming away from her teasing fingers. "You win!"

Pam laughed and bent forward over him, her hair falling wildly around them. Jim lifted his arm, attempting to gain the upper hand once more, but she caught hold of him by the wrist, pushing it back down towards the pillow.

"When did you get so tough, Beesly?" he taunted. "You-"

Then her lips were on his, their tongues dancing wildly together. The whole world around them vanished, and they were alone together. Jim's fingers moved up into her hair, softly grasping and swirling and Pam allowed him to take her deeper into the kiss.

When she finally pulled back from him, his face was flushed and hot. Breathlessly rolling off of his chest, she was once again beside him, pressing herself into his body. Lazily he curled an arm over her, keeping her close. Pam shivered with the nearness of him, soaking up his intoxicating scent that she so loved. They did not speak, both unconsciously sensing words would only break the moment. Pam was struck with deep emotion, as though she were lighting up inside, that she could explode with the force of her feeling for him at that moment; even then as he was brushing her hair back from her shoulder, his burning lips caressing her neck, slowly, gently.

The rain grew heavier, swollen drops of water smashing against the windows. After a while, the kisses stopped and the arms tightened around her and they drifted off to the sounds of the raindrops falling like a lullaby.

Later, when Pam awoke, warm and comfortable and safe, she finally got up and went to take her shower.

"You kicked my ass, Beesly." Jim remarked, with a smug half grin.

"Don't you forget it." she replied happily, disappearing into the bathroom.

Jim's smile grew wide in the shadow of the morning; she was definitely growing more confident, more trusting with him. He didn't think he would forget the expression that flickered across her face when she landed on top of him during their play wrestling, a cute fusion of triumph and shock. She wasn't experienced in having the upper hand. Nor, being the one to initiate and end their fooling around. He loved watching her open up during these moments, realizing that she could take the lead with him if she wanted. He thought he'd made a point with her quite nicely.

And, he hadn't been at all wrong. She had definitely kicked his ass. On all counts.

-TO-

Late that night, Jim lay drowsily in the big soft bed, his head nestled against her curls, arm draped loosely around her.

In an almost complete reversal of the evening before, she'd barely changed her clothes before she was fast asleep. Like himself, alcohol made her sleepy. Not that she had been flat out drunk, just mildly inebriated. The day had been so good, despite the rain. He smiled, thinking of how happy, how comforted she was just by simple gestures from him – just a small kiss to her forehead, just snuggling against him quietly, nothing more, nothing less and she was happy. She'd held on to his hand through the entire length of the movie they gone to see and again walking back through a flourishing garden area, where they promptly teased and chased each other about in the rain before stopping for a meal.

A white hot feeling burned within him, a feeling that had started downstairs in the casino as they frequented the bar, played roulette and poker, a feeling that grew in intensity as he sank into sleep. He finally had her, after years of waiting for her. He sometimes still couldn't believe it, often he found himself struck with an urge to hold her, touch her simply to confirm she was real and really there.

…..

A short time later, he woke to a disorienting sensation. The first thing in his mind as he turned over to shield Pam from disaster, was an earthquake. But as he reached for her to catch hold of her thin shoulder, he realized that it was not movements within the earth's crust making the bed shake like that, but Pam. Quickly flicking on the lamp beside him, he got a full on picture of what was happening; Pam, huddled into a ball with her knees squashed into her abdomen, shivering violently. Her sleeping face was wet and flushed, her lips parted slightly passing sharp, fast breaths.

It was as though he'd swallowed a bowling ball, he was immediately filled with anguish on the sight of her and he hesitated, unsure what he should do. Thinking of how often it was said that you shouldn't wake someone in the middle of a nightmare, or he thought maybe that was wrong and that was for sleepwalkers. And he certainly didn't want to scare her any further. But, looking at her he knew he couldn't take another second of watching her and not try to do something, so he instinctively reached out to try and wake her gently.

Before he could touch her though, out of the silence a moan arose from her, long and growing in pitch, about the most horrifying thing that had ever reached his ears. It was a primal sound, desperate and heavy with pain. Panic pushed its way up into his chest, the cry stabbing at him all over like a sharp knife.

"Hey!" he whispered, barely making a sound. "Pam?"

Even if it didn't seem feasible, she was yet huddling herself together even more, making herself as small as possible.

"Love?" he prodded gently. His hand came to rest on her shoulder lightly.

It was as though he'd struck her with a cattle prod, jerking violently at his touch. Her eyes slammed open against the wet pillow.

"Hey," he soothed. Finally came a muffled response, lost in the pillow. "Hey… it was just a dream. You're okay." he said, thinking though, she really wasn't okay in the least.

"No."

"What? You were dreaming, love." he told her softly.

"No." she repeated, a little louder.

Pulling himself up until he could lean against the headrest, Jim laid an arm over her, gently urging her to move closer to him. Letting out another cry of distress, she frantically wriggled out of his arms and stumbled to her feet.

"Pam-"

"I said no! Why didn't you stop?" she cried.

"Huh? Pam…" he said, instinctively moving toward her. "It's alright, Pam, everything's okay."

"Don't touch me!" she flared up, and turning rapidly, she fled into the little bathroom, the door slamming like a gunshot in the middle of the night.

Jim sat on the end of the bed, his elbows on his knees, rubbing at his face. He was completely lost at what to do. More so he was very worried about her. She'd been in the bathroom a good fifteen minutes – he figured he'd best give her a few moments – but when she hadn't emerged his worry only grew with each passing minute. He couldn't imagine what on earth had triggered this; he had never seen her so upset before. That deadened look in her eyes when she'd told him not to touch her – she'd looked at him like she didn't know who he was. He could only assume that was the disorientation from the nightmare, or could only hope that was what it was.

He couldn't hear anything from the bathroom and that worried him too. Making his way to the door, he stood quietly listening, the sounds of soft crying coming from within.

"Pam?" he called lightly. No response. "Pam? Are you alright? Can I come in? I'm worried about you."

He waited in silence for a reply, for any sign from her at all, but nothing came and his panic began to rise again.

"Pam? Come on, let me in? I just have to make sure you're okay." Jim's features twisted in frustration and anxiety as she still refused to answer him. He could hear her – thought he could hear her, the faint sniffles and sobbing.

"Okay...I'm gonna open the door, Pam. You can yell and scream at me if you want, but I gotta know you're okay." he told her, his hand grasping the door handle. When she still made no sound or acknowledgement, he decided he'd given her fair warning and carefully pushed the door open.

For a first horrifying moment he thought he couldn't see her, that wasn't in the room at all, then a great shuddering breath from his left caused him to spin round. Spotting her, curled up with her back against the shower door, knees drawn up to her chin, he slowly went to her. Encouraged that she made no attempt to move away from him, he knelt down next to her and sat back on his knees.

"Hey…" he soothed, tenderly stroking her hair away from her face. "What is it?"

Maddeningly, she shrugged her shoulders refusing to lift her head and look at him.

"I'm trying Pam, I really am." he said with difficulty. In all honesty he was becoming rapidly frustrated and worried about her. He wished more than anything he could just lift her up and take her back to bed and tell her everything would be okay and have her actually believe him. He thought back over their day together – he just couldn't think of anything that could have brought this on, however he had more than a feeling that the root of this had less to do with him and more to do with a certain ex fiance.

"Pam…" he said slowly, grasping on to something he had only suspected before from snippets of things she had told him, or let slip, about her life as the future Mrs Anderson. "Pam… I'm sorry…. I gotta know… What did he do to you?"

He waited for her to yell, to scream, to tell him to get the hell out and never see her again, for her to explode. None of those things happened. She simply did not react at all.

"Did he…." he said, his voice shaking a little. "Did he…. You know?"

The only response was a roaring silence, and Pam, squeezing herself even tighter together, as though she was trying to make herself disappear. Jim's heart shattered, realizing he was correct in his assumption. Lovingly he reached out again and gently stroked her hair, wanting desperately for her to let him comfort her.

"It's alright." he murmured. "I'm sorry." Bowing his head, he pressed his face into her curls and kissed her head. "It's better that it's all out in the open."

At that her head jerked up violently, pushing him away as a result. Stunned to see the anger burning in her eyes, he felt paralyzed as she glared at him fiercely.

"What, so you can leave? Is that what you mean?" She climbed to her feet, her face streaming with tears.

Jim shook his head rapidly, mortified. "I… What? No I don't-"

"What you don't want me any more? I disgust you now? Now you know the truth about me?"

"What?" he cried, stung by her words. A guilty flush crept into his cheeks, he hadn't meant to raise his voice to her. "No, Pam…" he said, forcing a calmness into his voice. "Listen to me."

She shrugged helplessly. "Why would you want to stay through this? Why don't you want someone who isn't me? Someone you can be with where everyone doesn't know that she's just damaged goods, second hand trash!"

"That's enough!" he responded, mentally kicking himself again for raising his voice– he did not want to turn this into an argument. He knew he had to be the calm, rational one here. He breathed in deeply and then moved towards her.

"Listen," he said, catching her by the shoulders. Immediately she tried to push him away, but he wasn't going to allow her to walk away from him again – letting go of her shoulders he cupped her tear stained face with his hands, looking directly at her. "Listen. You can trust me, you gotta know I would never, ever hurt you, not like that," he sneered, feeling a hatred beyond all measure for Roy at that moment. "Not in any way, not now, not ever."

More tears fell from her face as she trembled in his hands, but she didn't try to move away from him. "How can you possibly… care about me after knowing what I let him do to me?" she sobbed.

Jim resisted a strong urge to pull her into his chest and crush her in a fierce hug – she was so distraught, but he knew he had to get through to her first.

"Listen. Roy made that choice to hurt you. Not you. That's not who you are. That's who Roy wanted you to be. It's not you."

She sobbed brokenly in front of him, not caring any more what he knew, or didn't know. She was so tired. "You'd be better off without me."

"Pam!" Jim said, horrified. "No! I love you more than ever before. You're so brave, you're so strong to survive that. You have so much good in you, so much love. Every second I'm with you I'm very grateful for. Without you I'm nothing."

"I'm so sorry." she cried, breaking down. "I care about you so much… I'd rather you not be with me than be unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy." he replied genuinely, letting go of her. He looked at her with love deep in his eyes and lifted his arms towards her. "Trust me?" he said quietly.

Pam studied him a moment, rubbing at her eyes. After a pause, she tilted her head in a slow nod. "I do."

Jim smiled warmly. "Then come here."

After what looked like an inner conflict with herself, Pam came forward to him and allowed him to wrap his strong arms around her frail body. Sliding her own arms around his back, she dropped her head tiredly on to his shoulder.

"It's okay to need me a little. You're not on your own any more." he said in a soft voice, all of the quivering woman pressed against him. "Whatever happens, it's always gonna be you and me from now on."

The only answer she could give him was a tight squeeze as she leaned into him heavily. "I'm so tired, Jim. I'm so tired."

"I know," he said, walking her out of the bathroom and across the room to the bed. "Come on. We can talk about all this some more in the morning. Are you alright?"

"Tired…" she drawled, slipping out of his arms and climbing into bed. Jim followed her, getting in the other side and laying next to her.

"Here." he said, moving close to her and wrapping her in an embrace as they both settled down again. "Go to sleep. When you wake up I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Not Roy…" she mumbled.

Jim switched the lamp off, and gazed at her lovingly in the dark. "No, I'm not Roy. And you're not damaged, or trash. You're my treasure." he told her, with feeling. Soon, they had settled again in the big, warm bed, Pam nestled in his arms. She was empty, drained, conflicted… but inexplicably a great relief also ran through her. It was as though a huge burden had lifted off her in him knowing the truth about her, and that yet he still wanted to be with her. She felt very contented with that fact as she slowly floated away into sleep.

Jim himself lay awake longer feeling deeply troubled, imagining all the ways he could have Roy tortured and feeling none of it would be enough for what he had done to Pam. Then he felt the soft, warm skin of her cheek laying against him on the pillow and the dark feelings shifted and the lightness of his love for her lifted him up. Turning his head, he held a long kiss to her cheek.

"Love you." he said, before closing his eyes.

"Yes." she responded meaningfully. In the dark, Jim smiled. It wasn't quite the same as the actual words but he believed he was beginning to get the picture.