When his phone rings and he hears his mother’s tear filled voice he can’t say he’s surprised. He feels his heart breaking in his chest but he hold himself together and consoles the disembodied voice that will later come to haunt him. He think that if he can make it just ten more minutes he can go have a meltdown in the bathroom but here, now he needed to be the strong one. No longer was he little Jimmy. He had hands to hold, dates to set and tears to set aside.

He made the mistake of glancing in Pam’s direction. She knew something was wrong. Her questioning stare and her concern was more than he could bear right now. Not when they still hadn’t had a chance to talk about the fact Roy was nowhere to be seen and neither was his ring. No there was no time for him or what he wanted. All that mattered right now was that ten minutes he needed to focus on being strong. The seconds crawled and the dial tone was screaming in his ear, long after the crying had taken his mother’s voice. He sat still and staring at the poster in front of his desk. He could hear Dwight telling him that one was most productive before lunch so he best make the most of it. His daze was broken when he felt Pam’s hand brush against his back on her way to the break room. Her strong beautiful way of saying she was there if she needed him.

In truth he couldn’t help but feel furious with himself. He should have been more prepared. He should have taken the day off. All the signs were there, staring him in the face. This was the phone call he had been expecting for eighteen months, three weeks and four days. Ever since they first received the news that had almost torn his family apart. Suddenly the room was too small, the air too stifling. He need the refuge the hideous orange stalls promised. He practically sprinted for the break room. Where he was stopped dead in his tracks by a voice he had been listening to all night. Waiting, praying, hoping for news.

There it was the realization that this is his life. This is real. The proof was written all over Pam’s face. Wide eyed, full of tears and a mask of confusion. Staring at him asking him for answers.

"Master Corporal Jonathan Halpert was killed when a suicide bomb exploded near his convoy yesterday morning. He was 23 years old."

He was only 23 years old.

That was the last thing he remembered until he felt the hard floor collide with his knees and sobs began to take over his body.