Jim left Pam with a quick hug and a kiss to the forehead before he started off across the corridor with the attorney. Pam crossed her arms over her chest, trying to quell the small, subtle shaking of her limbs. There was something final, something she didn't understand, in Jim walking away from her. As though they were setting something in motion they wouldn't be able to stop. Fear flowed into her, filling up all the empty spaces inside of her. She wanted Jim to turn around and come back. Back to her. She wanted, at that moment, desperately for someone to come along and tell her this whole thing was a dream, a nightmare and shake her until she awoke in her bed.

"Come on, honey." her mother said kindly, drawing her into a one armed hug and then leading her into the courtroom.

"It's all my fault."

"What's that?" Helene said, walking Pam to her seat. Pam turned to her mother, pale of face and unaware she had spoken. She blinked.

"I..er just… it's all my fault, mom. He's up there because of me. They're going to crucify him."

Helene fixed her with a sympathetic look. "Oh honey, I know. He'll be fine. You'll see." she said, gently rubbing her back. Without a word of reply, Pam bent down to take her seat, withdrawing her fingers into the warmth of her sleeves.

Far too quickly, Judge Summers was back on the bench and the room plunged into a tense quiet. As in the previous days and that morning, she had begun to expect and follow the court system, and to her it seemed only a blink before Jim was sitting in front of her and Murphy was standing, arms clasped courteously behind his back.

As they went through the opening questions, she found herself anxiously scrutinizing Jim, deliberating on all the body parts of him that were visible outside of the oak beams of the witness box, looking for any signs of distress or discomfort – or even anger. However he showed no outward signs of duress, he was calm, relaxed, answering in a polite, even tempered manner. Jim, being essentially Jim. But, she knew him better than almost everyone else in the courtroom. She knew how much he hid inside of himself, how he was as unrousable as Roy was volatile. Small, hesitant gestures; the slight scraping of shuffling feet, a small pink flush coloring his cheeks, darting hands, all unspoken language she knew well that pointed to his true feelings at that moment. An image flashed like sheet lightning in front of her eyes, the image of that night – of him calmly kneeling on the floor in front of her with a towel full of ice, perfectly composed and controlled – betrayed only by the slight shiver of his hands as he very gently cleaned the blood off her face.

Murphy followed up his opening questions, settling on a more relaxed tone than he had used with either Dwight or Toby. "Thank you for testifying today, Mr Halpert. May I call you Jim?"

"Sure." Jim was not a man who enjoyed formalities.

"Thank you." Murphy nodded appreciatively. "So, Jim, could you tell us how long you have known Miss Beesly?"

Jim looked upwards thoughtfully. "I'm not sure exactly, about six or seven years."

"You were introduced to her through your current job at Dunder Mifflin, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And after you were introduced to her, you very quickly became friends?"

"Yes, sir."

So far, so good. Murphy spoke softly, his manner a mixture of conversational and authoritative. Pam pressed her knees together wearily, not taking her eyes away from the stand.

"And when did she make you aware she was in a relationship with the defendant?"

There was a pause, a shuffling of feet from the witness box. "Almost right away – my first day on the job."

"You formed a close friendship with her almost immediately, is that fair to say?"

Jim smiled softly. "Yes, I guess so."

"And over the course of your employment you've maintained the friendship between you?"

"Yes."

"With regards to the office, your desk is situated nearest to the reception desk, where she sits, making you the closest person to her on a day to day basis?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was it you that drew you to Ms Beesly when you were first introduced?" Murphy said, returning the same smile.

Jim bit the inside of his lip, looking thoughtful. "Uh.. it was like I already knew her. I didn't seem like we just met. There was no awkwardness or anything."

Pam, watching intently, spotted a little sparkle in his eyes as he spoke, it was the same sparkle that showed up whenever he was passionate about something. Unaware, her mouth drew into a shy smile, her heart warmed a little.

"And she would confide in you as time went on, if she wanted someone to talk to?" Murphy continued.

"Yes. I sort of became Pam's go to guy for advice or problems."

"And Mr Anderson – were you friends with him as well?"

Jim turned his head slightly, looking like he was chewing on something rotten. "Not really." He answered dismissively.

"You had known him for as long as Miss Beesly, correct? You were friends, close friends, with his fiancee, you went out after work together, but you and Mr Anderson never became friends?"

"No, no we didn't." Jim shrugged. From his side of the room, Roy grunted loudly.

"But you and Miss Beesly were close." Murphy said, ignoring Roy. "You were her go to guy for advice. Did she feel comfortable confiding in you about more private things, like her relationship?"

"Sometimes, yeah."

Murphy nodded thoughtfully. "Can you give an example?"

"Uh… we would talk sometimes.. sometimes we do errands for our boss, you know, pick up the staff birthday cake, that sort of thing. And she would be out of the office and away from Roy and she'd talk about things in general – if something was bothering her or she was upset about anything."

"This confidence, this was reciprocal – she'd sometimes come to you if she needed to talk about something that was upsetting to her, and you in turn would confide in her also?"

"Right." Jim nodded fervently.

"Was there ever a time that Miss Beesly confided to you that anything was wrong between her and Mr Anderson?"

Jim looked uncomfortable. "No, not directly, I guess. I had a sense that things weren't going the way she wanted, she wasn't happy but she didn't say so directly.

"When did you first become aware of this sense that something," Murphy came to a stop and cleared his throat loudly. "Was wrong in her relationship with Mr Anderson?"

"I guess in some way I always knew." Jim spoke carefully. "Never really thought he was very good to her. He could be a little… thoughtless towards her, controlling. He was bossy, like he'd sit in the parking lot after work and keep laying on the horn if she was taking too long. More and more she stopped hanging out after work with us. I'd say we're all going for a drink later and she would say she wanted to come and then Roy would show up and he would just say to her no. And she rarely argued with him about it that I saw."

"You say you didn't think her was good to her, he was controlling. Had you any suspicion that there was something more going on; for example, the relationship had turned violent?"

Jim looked at the attorney for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice had shrunk to an unsteady murmur. "I didn't want to believe it. Yes, I think I knew something was happening but I didn't want to believe. I mean, how could something like that be happening?"

"Did you ever see her with any injuries or bruises?"

"Yeah, I mean she would have bruises on her arms and she often had a stomach ache or a headache. She had a couple of broken fingers at one time or another, her wrist was broken once – she said it was a fall. She had a sprained ankle, she said she fell down the stairs."

"She never stated that these injuries were caused by Mr Anderson?" Murphy continued.

Jim swallowed hard. "No. I tried to talk to her about Roy a few times. I saw them together at lunch not long before she left him, and I thought I saw him do something to her – I didn't know what but it looked like it really hurt her. I didn't want to ask her about it in the office. I was worried about her. We had an office party that night at Chili's and I tried to talk to her afterwards but she wouldn't talk about it to me." he said, his face thinning with sadness. "It took a concussion for her to admit something was going on."

Murphy turned sharply. "That was the day you accompanied her to the hospital? When she was treated for concussion?"

"Yes, it was."

Murphy paused as he considered his next question. "And she told you, that day, that she had been abused physically by her fiancee?"

"Yes, pretty much."

"Where did this conversation take place?"

"In the hospital coffee shop."

The attorney was sympathetic "What was her emotional state at that time? She had just been treated for a concussion, she was at the hospital with you – not her fiancee. Was she… upset? Distraught? Calm?"

"She was pretty upset." Jim said, lowering his eyes. "She said that Roy didn't mean to do it, and it was an accident that she got hurt."

"I see." there was a pause as Murphy pondered this. "And during this conversation she began to open up to you about the injuries she suffered?"

"A little, yes."

"Okay." The silence between the words grew heavy in the room. "During this conversation, you asked her point blank if her fiancee had caused the concussion, by physical abuse?"

"Yes. I did, several times." Jim's eyes rolled down. More shuffling sounds escaped the witness box. "At first she got angry that I was asking, really angry but also it was obvious she was scared too. Then she began to cry and said Roy didn't mean to hurt her."

"After she began crying, what happened then?"

"She just seemed so… so lost. She said she felt like nothing, like she didn't exist." he said, his voice hoarse. "I'd never seen her like that before. It scared me. She was exhausted – you could see it in her eyes, and her body and the way she moved. It was like she'd come to a point where all the lights were out."

"What as your reaction to this?"

"My immediate reaction was one of complete…. terror." Jim winced, his cheeks paling. "I guess it's something to only suspect it's happening, but to hear her say it…." he trailed off, breathing heavily. Every eye in the room was locked on him, a church-like hush had fallen over the entire courthouse.

Pam's heart was pounding painfully in her chest. Jim had raised his chin slightly, tilting his head back, seemingly trying to gather himself. She stared at him, shame reddening her own face as the first tear tracked down her cheek. She mentally willed him to turn to her. When they were in the office and she wanted his attention she would stare intensely into the back of his head, a series of mental nudges to make him turn around to her. This was what they did. More often than not he would sense her and spin his chair around to reception. Other times she would whisper his name or toss a paper clip neatly at his head.

He did not turn. His eyes – suspiciously bright and watery - remained averted from her. However, her attorney did turn to face her, a look of concern settling over his face.

"Mr Halpert?" he said cautiously.

"I tried…" Jim suddenly became talkative. "I said I would help her get away from him – I told her she could come stay with me, I'd go to police with her, I even said I would call her mom for her. She just kept shaking her head and saying no to everything. She didn't seem to realize where she was – she was sitting there in a hospital, disoriented and about half the weight she used to be, with a concussion and a sprained wrist and still she just wouldn't… couldn't – " Jim came to a stop rapidly, drawing a deep breath. Before the attorney could gather himself and utter a single word, Jim spoke again.

"The thing about Pam, is that she's so caring. She really cares about people, no matter what they do to her. She doesn't ever want to hurt anyone. I'll never understand how Roy could have done the things he did to her, she would never-"

"Objection!" the defense attorney all but screamed, cutting Jim off jaggedly. It came out of the blue, like the man had just been sitting there spectating and suddenly remembered his duty. Several people in the room were momentarily disconcerted, and Pam felt the all too familiar stab or fear blazing through her at the jarring sound.

"On what grounds, counsel?" Judge Summers asked calmly, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

He was on his feet. "My client has not been convicted of anything, has not been found guilty of abuse – move to strike. Move to strike!" he stormed.

"Sit down, Mr Thorne." the judge said dismissively.

"Your honor, the witness comments presupposes a-"

"The witness stated that he was told by the victim that she had been physically abused by the defendant. That does not come down to presupposition. Furthermore, do not shout in my courtroom. You may continue." she said, with a brisk nod to the prosecutor.

"Thank you, your honor. Jim, how did this conversation between you and Miss Beesly end up?" asked the prosecutor. "Had she come to any decision about her future with the defendant?"

"We were talking still when Roy showed up. And she just got up and left with him without argument."

"How did that make you feel, to see her walk away with him?"

"I was angry.. frustrated… I was scared for her. She didn't want to leave him and I didn't understand that. It was like he had this control over her – everything she did went by him first. When we talked about her leaving him it was like there was just this wall there, you just could not get through it."

"I understand. Did she say why she did not want to leave Mr Anderson?"

Jim looked mutinous. "Despite everything… all that he did to her…" he said heavily. "She didn't want to leave him. Because." Jim paused, exhaling through his nose. "She said she didn't want to hurt him." he replied, his voice cracking.

-TO-

It was excruciating for her to sit through – and she wasn't on the stand herself. Not yet. Two things were happening. Jim was testifying, that was happening and with that she was seeing, seeing things happening in front of her. Things that made her chest heave and fuzzy black spots plague her vision. Things she had put away, memories she thought were buried. Events she didn't recall at all. She was being thrust back into those moments of peril, moments of terror… because it was Jim talking; Jim, who had been the closest person to her during the worst times… Jim. Jim, now describing for the court the day she had left Roy, her breakdown, her disappearance.

A fierce fury exploded in her. She wanted Jim to stop talking – she wanted the images that were assaulting her to stop, the pain that she suddenly felt in her head – where Roy had yanked her hair so many times, pain in her side from her broken ribs, the searing agony that was circling her neck inside the hands that were squeezing the life out of her. The sudden rage swelled inside her, threatening to overtake her. She was angry, she was confused.

Jim's soft tones continued and she clamped her eyes shut, biting viciously down on her lip. Silently she willed him to stop talking, feeling a hatred beyond her understanding at that point. Roy was going to be so mad about this, he was going to kill her for it. Everything closed in around her – and then a separate, softer, kinder voice cut through the noise in her head. You are everything. That's not what I see when I see you.

Instantly her anger turned inwards. Jim was not the catalyst, he was not at fault. She mentally flayed herself, pushing away the swarming emotions. She saw herself leaping up into the air and fleeing the courthouse. She saw herself running to the witness box, protecting him from the obvious hurt of him recalling it all. She would not be selfish. This was Jim's moment – he was the one under questioning, because of her, for her. She would be strong for him, she would not let herself break down while he was up there.

"During the period directly after Miss Beesly left the defendant, she spent three weeks or so in your home as a guest, is that right?" Murphy was asking.

"That's right." Jim replied.

"Had she ever stayed at your home before?"

"No, never."

The attorney folded his arms casually. "How many times had she visited you there before?"

Jim thought carefully. "Uh, maybe four, five times."

"She never stayed overnight, never stayed with you as a guest?"

"No." he answered easily. Pam bristled, the necessity of the questions withstood, she hated the implication she was sure Roy and his attorney would bring.

"Did you ever invite her to stay?"

"No." Jim was confident, fully prepared for this series of questions.

"So, when she came to stay with you for those three weeks, had you invited her?"

"Not… directly. She knew that if she needed a place to stay, she could come to me." he explained.

"What were the circumstances around her coming to stay with you at that time?"

"She showed up at my house late evening after I'd been out looking for her following the earlier scene with Roy, she was in a really bad way and she needed somewhere safe to stay."

"Jim," Murphy said, emitting a great deal of sensitivity. "I apologize for asking this, but you've said she was in a really bad way. Would you describe this for the court please."

Opening his mouth slowly, Jim paused, letting his eyes roam the courtroom, the jury leaning towards him breathlessly, the wide eyed spectators from front to back of the room, his own mom, Pam's mom, her family.. and Pam herself. For the first time that afternoon, they held each others gaze. Pam looked back at him with understanding dawning on her and she lifted her head higher, giving him a small nod. Jim held her stare a moment longer, anxiously chewing his lip and searched her face carefully before his eyes turned apologetic. Nodding subtly himself, he faced the prosecutor again, inhaling heavily.

"When I saw her, I first thought she'd been in a car accident… or something." Jim said, his eyebrows drawing together at the memory. "Her face was all swollen and her lip was bleeding, her forehead was cut. There was blood under her… her nose. She, uh, she didn't have a jacket or anything with her and her shirt was torn and had blood on it too. It was like nothing I ever thought I'd see… she didn't look like herself." he came to a stop, chest heaving.

Murphy stood respectfully by the lectern, allowing Jim to take a moment. Pam bowed her head, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. From behind her came a gentle sobbing, and she lowered her head further, her shoulders shaking.

"This is hard," Jim said, so quietly that Murphy asked him to repeat. "This is so hard… she had.. had blood in her hair and on her hands, her fingernails were ripped and bleeding, one of her eyes was really red inside… there were some pretty big welts on her arms and some sort of burn on one of them… I think she said it was from a carpet. But…" he swallowed. "But her neck… she had scratches all over it, fingermarks, it was really red and bruised and she had difficulty swallowing."

Murphy had turned a strange shade of white as Jim spoke. Slowly he turned and scowled at Roy. Then he faced the witness again, a look of sadness in his eyes. "Jim, I know how difficult this is to relive, so I thank you for taking the stand today. Just a couple more questions, okay?" he said kindly.

"Yes, sir." Jim ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Firstly, we can agree there is little more abhorrent than a person who will abuse and physically hurt another person, a person they are supposed to love and –"

There was a clatter as the defense leapt up. "Your honor!" he screeched. "Prejudicial! Inflammatory! Unacceptable your honor! Strike!"

"Rescinded, your honor," Murphy jumped in hastily. "My apologies, this is an emotive issue and extremely distressing for all involved."

"Sustained. Mind yourself, please, Mr Murphy." Judge Summers warned, without any real conviction in her voice.

"Mr Thorne, unless you want to be held in contempt, you will keep your voice to a respectable level in my courtroom."

Roy grunted his disapproval at this.

"Jim, can you tell us what happened after Ms Beesly arrived at your home that night?" Murphy continued.

"Uh.. yes," Jim said, carefully avoiding the urge to glare at Roy. "We went inside and she was limping, so I helped her to the couch. I helped her get cleaned up a bit, got her a blanket. She was freezing, her skin was ice cold. She was sort of hunched over, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped about her stomach like she was holding herself together inside. She was really shaking, she couldn't hold on to a glass of water. She couldn't lift her arms either."

"And emotionally, how was she?"

"She was… very emotional.. she was absolutely terrified. She didn't… she was spaced out, confused."

"What did she say to you that night?" Murphy tilted his head, arms still folded.

"She was petrified that Roy was going to come over and find her there. She said that she was stupid for going back to the house, she went back to end things with him and leave, she didn't expect him to be there. She'd gone back to get her things and make it clear she was gone but very unfortunately he was there and he attacked her. She said…"

"Go on." Murphy said quietly.

Jim's eyes dropped. "She said he was angrier than she'd ever seen him and if she hadn't managed to get away from him that night… he wouldn't have stopped… she was was sure he would have killed her." he said quickly, pressing his lips together painfully.

Pam felt her fragile self control vanish at that moment, her face scrunched up and her head dropped. She brushed the palm of her hand upwards over her face, stopping at her forehead as her body shook with muffled sobs as the night flooded back to her in full color. She was dully aware of crying coming from behind her and Murphy speaking quietly to the judge.

Addressing the courtroom, Judge Summers called for a ten minute recess.

"This is bullshit!" Roy suddenly exploded, looking at his attorney as he stood up. "Why don't you ask him why she left, why she went to him – it's all bullshit. Wanting everyone to feel sorry for her when I'm here in jail-"

What happened next she did not know as Roy exited the room with the officers, but the echo of his voice continued to thunder on down into the room long after he had left. Pam, feeling physically weak, made no attempt to move from her seat, and simply looked up at to see Jim stepping down and walking away with Murphy. As the door was being opened he looked back at her, emotional green eyes imparting a message to her that only she understood.

As she trembled in her seat, she looked back him meaningfully, returning the message as she felt her Mom's comforting arms slip around her from behind.