He wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at the Philadelphia psychiatric hospital where Pam was being evaluated. He didn't even have any idea what he was going to say to get himself in there to see her. He just knew he had to try. He had managed to get the name of the hospital from Pam's mom by calling her - luckily her number was still on his cell phone from the hotel incident - and telling her that he wanted to send Pam some flowers. It was lame, but it worked, and a few hours later, here he was.
Gathering his composure, he walked up to the front desk and said that he was here to see Pam Beesly. When they asked for his name, without even thinking he said, "Dwight Schrute." The receptionist smiled, called Pam's room and told whoever answered that there was a Dwight Schrute here to see her, and then gave Jim the room number without any hassle whatsoever.
That was easy, he thought, as he made his way toward the elevator. He was so nervous he could barely breathe, with his heart beating so fast he was sure it may just explode before he got to her. It didn't though, and he arrived at her door and knocked softly.
"Come in," said a stranger's voice. He entered, and there was a nurse standing there filling out some kind of form. "She's probably not going to be much company," she said, disinterestedly. With that she gestured to Pam in the far bed, nearest the window.
She was sound asleep. Jim nodded and smiled politely at the nurse, and she left the room, leaving the door open behind her. Once he knew she was gone, he slowly walked over to Pam's bed and sat in the chair next to it.
For a long time he just sat there, not wanting to wake her. He was alarmed at how pale and thin she looked, as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. He felt tears stinging his eyelids at that thought. With some trepidation, he reached for her hand which was lying limply at her side. She stirred, but didn't open her eyes.
"Pam," he whispered, leaning in close to her. She still didn't open her eyes but she did make a soft "mmm" sound. He swallowed, and said softly, "I believe you. You're not crazy."
Her eyes fluttered open, with great effort. She showed mild surprise at seeing him there, but said nothing.
"Hey," he said.
"Jim," she replied. It was barely audible, and more of a statement than a question. "What... what are you doing here?"
"I need to help you," he said. "I don't know how this happened, Pam, but I remember. I remember everything. I remember working at Dunder-Mifflin, and meeting you, and being friends, and everything that happened on that casino night."
Pam shook her head. "No."
That was not what he had expected. "What?" he asked.
"No, you're not real. I made you up." She looked away, toward the window.
He was baffled. "Pam, your mom met me. I'm obviously real."
She blinked a few times. "She did?"
"Yes, remember? At the hotel?" The realization that Pam was on some heavy duty medication suddenly hit him.
"Well then I was stalking you, and I made the rest of it up. That's why I'm here. And you're not. You're all in my head."
"Pam, that doesn't make any sense," he said, although the irony was not lost on him that none of this made any sense.
"You should go," she said, turning her head away again.
"Pam, listen, they have you pretty drugged up and you don't - "
"I said go!" She was starting to cry now. "You are just trying to fuck with my head. You don't know me!"
"That's not true. Look, something weird is going on here and there's no way to explain it, but - "
"Is there some kind of problem here?" The voice in the doorway was familiar, and Jim felt himself tense up. Roy.
"No, Jim was just leaving," said Pam.
"Jim?" Jim could see the wheels turning in Roy's head.
Jim knew his time was running out. He turned back to Pam. "Pam, please... it's your medication. I'm telling you the truth," he pleaded with her.
"Hey, lay off, man," Roy came closer, looming over him.
Jim ignored him. "Pam! Please!" She looked at him, confused, but said nothing while Roy dragged him out of the room.
"Who the hell are you?" he demanded when he got Jim out to the hallway.
"I'm... look, I can help her." He had no idea how to even begin to explain, and felt irrationally annoyed that Roy of all people happened to be at the hospital at that moment.
Roy stared at him for a few seconds, then surprised Jim when he said, "Were you fucking her?"
"What?" He couldn't comprehend what Roy was getting at.
"You heard me. Were you sleeping with her? Is that why she flipped out?" Roy's face was already red with anger.
"No! Look, man - " The next thing Jim knew he was on the ground, searing pain shooting through his jaw, his cheek split open. Roy's imposing form hovered over him, blurry through his stinging eyes, and he heard him hiss, "I am going to kill you."
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay - I had a hard time with this chapter.
