Pam awoke to find herself face down in the bed, practically lying on her cheek. An unpleasantly heavy sensation was pressing down urgently on her back. She panicked, flailed, unable to move out from under the weight on top of her.

It felt like a man on top of her, a large man, a full grown man, laying on top of her crushing her against the mattress and sheets. She was trapped, worse than trapped – she couldn't breathe. He was trying to smother her, he was so heavy and her mouth was full of pillow when she attempted to scream. Terror overwhelmed her, her body set as stiff as rigor mortis. Icy lips kissed the back of her neck. Pam opened her mouth again to scream yet frantically her lips wouldn't move, her lungs were shrinking, filling up with panic leaving no room for oxygen. She was as good as gone, dead, all she could do was wait to be destroyed, wait to become just another mass of splintered bones and soulless, stale eyes.

Soon, though, without warning or reason, the weight lifted. There was no gradual parting – it was just gone. Pam reclaimed the use of her limbs and flipped over in the bed, breathing hard and shakily. She sat up and looked around, only partially able to see the bedroom. Her heart pounded dangerously, feeling like a timer on an armed bomb.

Shadows made sinister shapes on the walls in the dim room. The little bedroom had only one resident; her but she knew, without a doubt that she was not alone. With all her strength she blindly fought against the horrendous panic falling over her like an ice cold blanket. A shuffling sound drifted out into the blackness from somewhere opposite. Trying to adjust her eyes, Pam blinked away the darkness. And then she saw.

A shadowy looking figure was standing ominously still in the corner of the room, adjacent to the closed door.

Dread flew into her like an invisible gust of wind. The figure was abstract, undefined in the nights darkness; a menacing shape that terrified her down into her bones. Then she heard a voice, distorted, whispering from the corner simultaneously sounding like it was speaking into her ear from beside her but also through the walls from another room.

Pam flipped the switch on the lamp next to her. Like a magician, the figure was gone, no trace of ever having been there. She closed her eyes, breathing deep and hard, trying hard to fight the wave of hysteria overtaking her. She had a wild urge to run out of the room, wake Jim, wake her mother – wake someone – so she wasn't alone with this thing that had been in the room with her.

Instead she settled back uneasily, trying to stave off the aftermath of the nightmare and visualizing her mothers arms wrapped comfortingly around her, rocking her back to sleep as she had done when she was a child. She lay in the darkness, eyes squeezed shut. However, the minute semblance of peace she had managed to foster was immediately shattered when an icy finger ran up and down her neck.

Pam violently flung herself out of the bed, falling to the floor. The light went out, plunging her back into the night. She crawled towards the center of the room, fully intending to leave, but without warning she fell onto her side. A faint, ghostly aroma misted around her, a musky scent very familiar to her from her years of sharing a bed with Roy. She screamed frantically, but her voice was powerless. Pam curled up fetally as she saw the arms, thick black dead arms snaking out of the walls all around her, coming at her from all directions. She wound into herself, waiting fearfully.

Something rough and scratchy brushed her cheek. Pam's eyes slowly opened and she looked out warily. She was alone in the room. She was awake. Her face was wet, tears had streaked her skin, wetting her t-shirt and even the carpet under her cheek. She lay, confused and shaking until the world began to come back to her in full. It was some time before she moved from the floor in the center of the room, but when she did – she anxiously tip toed down the stairs and checked the locks on the two entrances to the house. Then she checked the windows. Shivering, she took herself back upstairs and huddled under the covers, lying awake until morning.

-TO -

Jim noticed the pale, waxy skin tight around her face when he came downstairs hours later. Pam was sitting on the couch, her feet curled up underneath her. The room was intensely quiet as he walked in.

He bid her a cautious good morning and moved to the kitchen area. Within five minutes he was back and handing her a steaming hot cup of coffee.

"You look like you could use that." he said, half teasing. She didn't look well, but it was her eyes that were bothering him, they didn't look right somehow. Nor was the way she was just sitting, vacantly, as though she were only in the room in physical body, her mind far far away.

He flopped down next to her. "You don't look so well this morning." he said.

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep much."

Truthfully she did feel grateful he hadn't heard her theatrics overnight, she didn't want to give him any more cause to think she was neurotic or something, after the last few days she supposed he must be getting a little fed up with her. She was fed up with herself. Mixed up.

"I'll take you over to the courthouse this morning before you see Toby, alright?" he said. Pam thought for a moment, and then nodded her agreement. She couldn't argue any further, if last night was any kind of tangible sign she probably would feel better with an order of protection in place.

"Do you – do you think he'll get bail?" she said hesitantly.

Jim pulled a face at that, and shook his head. "I don't know. We'll know more today. But with the two charges-"

"He hasn't been charged with anything yet." she interjected.

Jim had angered internally the previous night after the phone call that explained Roy had been arrested. Jim's relief at the arrest was short lived when he was informed that Roy initially had not been arrested for what he had done to Pam. He had been picked up while driving, speeding carelessly through a semi-busy residential area, the arresting officer unaware of the outstanding warrant taking him in after a breath test confirmed Roy was at least twice over the limit. The warrant hadn't come into question until later.

However, Jim had little doubt of Roy's intended destination that evening, drunk or not, and he knew that Pam understood this too.

"They have to charge him, look at what he did to you!" Jim started, looking at the still vivid purple-yellow bruising and swelling of her face.

"Yeah." She said absently, her mind elsewhere. Remembering something she spoke again. "Kenny will fix it for him if he does get bail. He always does."

"Kenny?"

"His brother. Sometimes the third person in our relationship. Kenny will get him out of this if he can." she said morosely. "They are a bad influence on each other a lot of the time, honestly." Something else was bothering her.

"Do you think Roy will be at the courthouse?"

Jim shook his head. "The officer said he doesn't have to be for a temporary order, remember?"

"Oh."

"But, speaking of…" Jim started, hoping not to upset her but since she had brought up the possibility of seeing Roy, it would be a good time to bring up a concern of his own. "You understand the protection order works both ways, right? He won't be allowed to contact you, or come near you – and – you also won't be allowed to contact him either." he said, bracing himself for her reaction.

She was surprisingly calm. "Yeah, I know."

Jim smiled at her acceptance of the fact. He had harbored some concerns over the possibility that she might actually try to contact Roy herself. He didn't think it was totally out of the question, she clearly felt some loyalty, very much misplaced in his opinion, and some sort of obligation, maybe even ownership towards Roy. God knew Jim himself couldn't hold her down and stop her going back if she made up her mind to. Fortunately it seemed his fear was more likely baseless, but he would keep it in his mind.

"Also, Pam, I really think it would be a good idea to get a safety plan together."

She turned to him with a frown. "What?"

"I know it's horrible to think about, but a plan in case Roy does show up somewhere with the intention of harming you." Jim watched feeling slightly guilty as she flinched at the thought. "For a start, you need to get a new cell phone. Emergency contacts. Select people only who know where you are, whether you are at work or here or anywhere – in case Roy approaches someone else about you. A safe place to go if you have to; like even my parents house - somewhere Roy wouldn't find you." Seeing her face tighten with tension, he hurriedly tried to reassure her. "It's all precautionary of course, Pam. Better safe, right? Just for now, at least."

She shrugged again, not giving anything away. "I guess."

He sighed. "Well, talk it over with the advocate, Geraldine or whatever her name is. But it is important."

"Jim?" Pam straightened her legs, rubbing at her jeans with her palms. Jim thought it was nice to see her in her own clothes again – not that he didn't mind her in his old t-shirts – but she always looked good in her own clothes. He'd been silently worrying over the possibility Roy might have trashed her things since she'd left, but fortunately everything had been pretty much untouched and they had been able to pick up some of her clothes and other items last night after Roy was safely at the police station.

"Yeah?"

"If Roy wants to find me, he will find me." She said matter of factly.

"No need to make it easy for him though." he replied. She didn't reply.

Jim stood up.

"Thank you." She said suddenly from behind him. "For caring." her tone was gentler now.

His heart froze. Oh, if only she knew. He turned and smiled at her, unable to hide the sadness he felt in that moment.

Then, the boyish, upbeat Jim was back and he rubbed his hands together.

"So, Beesly, pancakes, then we'll go?" Not giving her a chance to change her mind, he quickly went into the kitchen area. Silently he cursed Roy with everything he had. This was going to be a long, long road, he thought.