Half an hour later, the two of them were sitting in the corner of the small coffee shop on the hospital ground floor.

"Thanks." Pam said quietly, wrapping her hands around the hot coffee he'd bought her.

Jim nodded, looking at her worriedly. "If it's somewhere to stay-"

"It isn't." She traced her finger around the top of her mug, watching the steam rise and disappear. Jim frowned and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, what is it then?" he asked, trying to keep his frustration out of his tone.

Pam refused to meet his eyes. "It's…" she faltered, slipping her hands into her lap. Sadness engraved her features and she dropped her head down wearily, worn out emotionally and physically. Jim wore a look of genuine sympathy as he waited for her to speak, wanting to show her he was willing to listen to her without pressuring her.

"Have you ever felt as though you don't exist?" She spoke slowly, not looking up. Her breaths were lifting her chest in short shallow movements. "Like you're wearing someone else's clothes?" she shook her head gently, closing her eyes briefly.

"What if you go on, feeling like you don't exist," she continued tentatively. "And then you think you can't feel any worse. And you realize you're living in someone else's body, and that person thinks your thoughts and makes your decisions. You're nothing."

Warm tears crept up into her eyes again, she blinked hard and fought them back. She'd done enough crying in front of Jim. "I can't do it." She said, glancing up at him quickly.

"Yes you can." Jim replied firmly, but kindly.

"I don't know how to do any of it!" she spat out suddenly. "Roy does everything, I even mess up trying to order pizza for goodness sake!" she said, sounding appalled at herself.

Jim smiled sadly at her outburst, slightly relieved she was at least talking to him and not sitting in silence. She lifted her head, allowing him to see just how pale she was, her eyes red rimmed and the hair around her face damp.

"Hey," he leaned towards her. "You can do it, Pam. You can leave. You have family, friends, a job. You can take care of yourself." For the first time since they had sat down, she looked up at him and held his gaze. "You know what you have to do, don't you?" he said.

Pam dropped her eyes again, her chest rising and falling heavily. She was wringing her hands tight together under the table, feeling like a caged animal.

"I don't…" She trailed off and sniffed quietly.

"Don't what, Pam?"

She looked up again, her green eyes filled with shame. "I don't want to hurt him." she said in a voice that was almost a whisper. Jim started for a moment, forgetting everything momentarily in his disbelief.

"What!" he angered loudly. He instantly regretted it, wild fear began to cloud in her eyes as she flinched back from him a little. Mortified, he rested his hand on her arm reassuringly and apologized.

"You're trembling." he observed. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He was struggling to straddle a balance between the anger building up inside him, anger at Roy for making her believe she was so weak – for hurting her – and frustration at Pam for not seeing the danger she was in and for still loving the man who did this to her. For caring about Roy's feelings!

"Pam." he tried again, carefully choosing his words. "The first thing you have to do is very simple and you can do it right now. You have to admit to yourself out loud that Roy hurt you."

Her eyes flew open wide and her mouth worked nervously, her lips clamping together. Her forehead scrunched and she shook her head again.

"No," she said. "Roy didn't hurt me." her eyes were pleading with him to believe her.

"Look around you, Pam. This is a hospital." Jim rubbed her arm soothingly. "Hey," he leaned close, looking her in the eye. "Look at me. Right in the eye. Tell me Roy doesn't hurt you and I'll believe you. If you can do that, I'll believe you. I'll even drive you home myself."

She froze, split in pain and shame. Pam raised her head and looked at Jim, fearful of what she might see in his expression. She met his eyes, expecting to find disgust, or even anger there but to her surprise all that was there was worry and concern. His eyes were soft, kind.

"Roy," She started. Faltered. Her eyes dropped again.

"It was an accident." She whispered, hating herself.

"You're in hos-"

"An accident" she repeated again dully.

"Will the next time be an accident too?" he asked her. "You know when it's something worse than a concussion-"

"Stop it!" she cried out.

"Maybe some broken bones, maybe you'll be in here a-"

"Stop!"

"And then, one day he'll go too far, Pam, and then it will be too late."

"Shut up, Jim, just stop! Leave me alone!" She cried out, tears coating her cheeks again. Jim sat back, vaguely aware people at other tables were staring at them now.

"Oh, God." she groaned loudly. "Jim, I'm not…" She dropped her face into her hands. "It's….so ashamed." She whispered.

"Ashamed?" He repeated, gently.

"He didn't mean to." she muffled from behind her hands.

"Which time?" he said simply, moving over to her. He rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. She looked at him defeatedly. She was tired, so tired. She was worn out from a tussle with conflicting thoughts and emotions and from carrying it all around with her for so long.

"Pam," Jim said, taking hold of her hands. "Listen to me, please, please. I do understand somewhat. I'm going to tell you something." he sighed.

"I got punched by a girl once, and it was a girl I really cared about and I didn't see it coming. And you know what I did?"

She looked up at him questioningly, confusion playing over her face.

"I made up a story that it happened in a bar; a stranger, a drunk. Hell I even convinced myself this was what happened after a while. And you know why?" He had her attention now, that was a start.

"I was ashamed. Yes, she only did it the once; we had pretty much broken up by that point anyway," he continued.

"What I'm saying is, I know how it hurts so much it becomes unbearable, that a person that you trust and love could do that to you. How much it hurts to admit it to yourself. And you – you've been with Roy years. How long can you keep pretending to yourself that you fell or bumped into a door or that you bruise easily?"

Pam didn't answer. She didn't need to. It was all over her face. Gone were the earlier stubborn expressions of denial, of anger. All he saw was hurt and deep sadness there.

"Come with me, Pam. Don't go home with him. I'm worried about you, you're not safe there. You know that, right?"

"Jim-"

"If it's Roy, I'll talk to him. I'll tell him you're leaving. I'll be there. Anything. He won't hurt you."

Panicked, she shot up out of her seat, pulling her hands away from Jim. "No! No, you can't!" She sputtered. "Jim, please."

Jim looked at her in disbelief. She opened her mouth to tell him to go, that she would be okay, but stopped, distracted. Dimly she could hear someone calling her name, and she turned away from Jim.

Roy was standing by the door of the coffee shop, looking over at them, beckoning her to him with a wave.

"Halpert?" Roy said confused, noticing Jim behind her.

Jim stood up, as Roy made his way around the tables to Pam. Leaning down Roy wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug. Pam stood still as a statue and didn't reciprocate.

"Michael told me you were here, and that Halpert here brought you. I was worried." he said, observing her tear stained cheeks, pale color and horribly red eyes. "Guess you been pretty sick today, huh?" his tone was relaxed, cheerful even. He turned to Jim.

"Thanks for staying with her, man" Roy said, incredulously. Jim stood up tall and drew level with Roy, his normally dancing eyes icy and hard. Roy fixed a grim expression and met Jim's eyes with a hostile gleam of his own.

Pam looked at them anxiously, unsure what to do about the two men standing eye to eye, looking like animals of prey. Finally, she tugged at Roy's sleeve and forced a smile.

"Let's go home." She tugged again, nudging him towards the door. Jim grunted in response and she looked around at him with pleading eyes. He frowned and bit his lip. It was taking all his effort to not go and confront Roy. If Pam hadn't begged… well with the way he felt right then, Roy should be glad he was already in the hospital.

He watched with growing terror as Pam walked out the door with Roy.

"Pam." he pleaded.

She turned back and shook her head slowly, following Roy out of sight. Jim slumped down onto his chair, angry and frustrated. He stewed for a few minutes. He wanted to run after them and yank Pam away from Roy. How could she go back with him?

He jumped up, deciding to hell be damned, he was going to go out there and make her listen. Roy would not put so much as a toe near her in anger. He would see to it.

He made his way out of the hospital quickly, and ran to the parking lot. He flicked his eyes over the parked cars, looking for Roy's dodge ram. He huffed a loud angry breath as, looking up, an angry red blur zoomed out of the exit, taking Pam out of his sight.