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People always talk about the stereotypical side effects of chemotherapy such as nausea or hair loss, but no one ever really talks about the scarier side effects like high fevers, dizziness, or especially...the nightmares. 


Jim had these often during the nights after treatment. 


He would wake up in a feverish panic, gasping for air, flailing as he struggled to escape his sheet prison. Often times he wouldn’t remember where he was, or would simply think he was still in the terrible dream. 


“Hey, just breathe,” he would always hear, even through the panic attack. “You’re okay.”


Then someone would pull him close, where his head could rest on their chest. 


“Just focus on my heartbeat. I’m not going anywhere,” the voice would whisper to him until the trembling finally stopped and he drifted back off into exhaustion once again. 


He very rarely spoke of these moments in the morning, but doubted that he would ever unsee them, could ever unfeel them. 


Pam, on the other hand, was handling things so much better than he ever could’ve imagined. She was so much stronger than him, making sure he was okay, taking care of the baby. She cooked. She cleaned. She worked, and never once complained, a total pro. But still, he was concerned for her. 


She had a calendar on the fridge where she marked off the days until his operation. But whether she was looking forward to it or dreading it, he didn’t know. Honestly, he tried not to even look at it anymore. He didn’t need another reminder of how much farther he still had to go. He’d been either at home or at the hospital so much lately that there was no more desire to be alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t think about it anymore. Three weeks on, one week off for three months. That was the deal the doctor gave them. Then judgment day would come. 


But he could do anything for three months. Right?


Michael had been letting him come in when he could so that he didn’t lose any of his clients. It was very generous, he knew, but, he was concerned about how long he could keep it up. Treatment had already kicked his butt and this was only the first month. The doctor was very clear that things were going to get worse before they got better.  Chemo took its toll on everyone differently, but to imagine what it would eventually do to him. He didn’t want Pam to see him like that....


He’d always heard that it was in the storm that people realized their true character. 


XXX


Jim supposed it was the rain that woke him so early. Or maybe, probably, it was his hungry child. 


It was dark and grey outside the splattered window, yet, still lighter than he thought it should’ve been at that time of morning. Jim leaned over to look at Pam’s alarm clock. It was the weekend, and he hoped that she hadn’t actually set the alarm. She had been working so hard since Jim’s diagnosis. But today was the beginning of his first week off of chemo. Round one, complete. Two more to go. Today of all days, she deserved to sleep in.


He squinted at the luminescent numbers in the darkness. They flashed back up at him, and he swore under his breath. The storm must’ve knocked out the power. What time was it?


He tapped his phone and it lit up a blurry seven o’clock. He groaned inwardly...no wonder Cece was hungry.


He rolled over carefully, so as to not wake his sleeping wife, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and forced himself to sit up. His whole body felt achy and stiff. Again, he groaned inwardly. 


“Not today,” he thought. 


He’d had a fever for weeks now. It would come and go in spurts in the aftermath of the treatments. He’d pretty much gotten used to it, but today he glanced longingly back down at his pillow. It looked even more inviting now than it did a few moments ago. 


No. No, he had to power through. He didn’t have time to be sick on Pam’s one off day. The house was a mess. The baby needed to be fed. How much could he get done before she woke up?


He pushed himself up and stumbled to the bathroom where he caught site of himself in the mirror. 


“Not great,” he thought as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked pale and sickly. It disgusted him. 


He didn’t want Pam to see him like this. She’d make a big deal, but it’s not like he could hide from how sick he’d been the past three weeks. 


He closed his eyes for just a moment to gather his thoughts, and felt he could easily go back to sleep right that second, standing on his feet. He was absolutely exhausted from going non stop for the past month, but that didn’t really matter in light of everything. Worrying about him shouldn’t even cross Pam’s mind today. He was fine. Really. 


Jim looked at himself in the mirror again. She probably wouldn’t notice, right?


For the next few hours Jim cleaned house with Cece by his side. They did laundry. They picked up toys, finally finishing with a detailed scrubbing of the kitchen, which, he couldn’t lie, had been suffering these past few weeks. By the time Cece was ready for another bottle, the counters were spotless and the stove was a completely new shade of white. 


Proud of their work, he and Cece sat down at the table for some daddy daughter feeding time, and waited for Pam to wake up. 


He had been so focused on Cece that he almost didn’t hear his wife enter the room. But when he finally looked up, he couldn’t help but smile. 


“Say, ‘Hey, Mama,’” he cooed at the baby. 


Jim saw wide eyes staring over his shoulder. What was going on in that baby brain?


“I don’t think she’ll be saying anything for a while,” he heard Pam say back. 


Jim continued speaking in the baby voice they’d both adopted recently. “I don’t know. She’s a Halpert. They’re geniuses,” he said softly, then turned to look at his wife. 


Pam was standing further back than she usually would which made him automatically suspicious. She quickly turned away, though, and went about their regular routine, and Jim shrugged it off as nothing. 


She was fine. It was just a fluke. 


When the baby was fed and laid down in her carrier, Jim joined Pam in the kitchen to help with breakfast. He tried to nonchalantly keep her on the opposite side of the counter from him, not because he didn’t want to be close to her, but because with every passing minute he felt more and more drained and the urge to just sit down grew stronger. He hoped she wouldn’t notice. 


Eventually, though, he could no longer avoid her. This was routine, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she expected a kiss. He leaned in once, but she turned away from him with a newfound fascination for the kitchen counter. Maybe she noticed that he had scrubbed them. Finally, as she dished scrambled eggs onto a plate, he pulled her in and kissed her forehead. It burned against his lips. 


She pulled away from him almost immediately, offering him only a small, fake smile. Did she think he wouldn’t notice?


Because he noticed. 


“Hey, wait come back,” he said, pulling her hand gently back towards him. 


She came back hesitantly, still refusing eye contact in a would-be casual manor. But she was close enough now for him to examine her. 


“Are you feeling okay,” he asked her. “You feel really warm,” he added, brow furrowed. 


Pam nodded and smiled assuringly, still not meeting his eyes. He reached his hand towards her forehead, but she dodged that, too, and spun out of his arms. 


It stung. 


She’d never kept anything from him in their entire relationship. For a second, he wondered if it was because she thought he was weak. 


“Pam,” he said, trying to hide his hurt. 


“I’m fine, really,” she said unconvincingly. “I’m just a little under the weather.”


Her body shivered suddenly and she look utterly betrayed. Jim said nothing, but frowned his response at her. 


“Maybe you should lie down,” he persuaded, reaching out for her hand again, praying she wouldn’t reject him a second time. 


Maybe it was the fever, maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was just the stress of the past month, who knows, but at that moment, something about his wife shifted suddenly. He saw it in her eyes. 


“I said I’m fine,” she snapped at him, slamming her hands down on the counter. “I’m FINE.”


Jim watched her quietly, his full attention uncomfortably on her. Behind him, the baby began to cry, yet he paid no attention, realizing for the first time that some deeper thing was actually happening. 


“What’s really going on,” he asked after several seconds of thick silence. 


Jim was suddenly aware of his desire to be close to her as she stood just out of his reach. She stared coldly back at him. 


“What’s wrong,” he pleaded, getting desperate. 


She had that look in her eyes that told him she was about to break. She wore it very few times in their relationship, but when she did, there was nothing she could do to escape. She needed to talk this out. 


“I should be taking care of you,” she blurted out as tears began to fall from her face. 


Realization dawned on him finally. 


“I see,” he started to say, but became suddenly dizzy. He reached out to steady himself on the counter top and settled for just shaking his head at her. 


God, he was so sick of being sick. 


“What are you talking about,” he said to cover his silence. “Pam, you’ve literally been doing everything for me, for us,” he said, gesturing towards the crying baby. 


Jim could hear the rain begin to fall hard on the roof, creating a noise that sounded much like the rumbling now in his ears. He absolutely hated that she felt like this, hated that he was doing this to her. 


“Pam,” he breathed, but she only stared at him. 


Something was rising between them that he couldn’t place his finger on, a part of Pam that he did not yet recognize. Maybe he’d never even seen it. Lightning struck in the distance, and as he stared into now blank eyes, the same eyes she’d given their daughter, something that had bubbled just below the surface these past three weeks finally boiled over. 


Before he even realized what what was happening, Pam had taken the bowls, now full of her famous Beesly scrambled eggs, and thrown them against the wall. The shattering noise seemed to shake the room much like the impending thunder. 


The shock sent Jim backwards, almost falling as his tripped over a stool leg. 


Numb to the storm, numb to the screaming baby, numb to his wife trying desperately to just be okay, Jim watched helplessly as his marriage was mocked by the monster inside. 


He could only observe as Pam screamed and gasped and flailed until the kitchen lay in ruins. The silverware was scattered about aimlessly, the bowls, in pieces, the toaster, fallen sideways and dented on the floor. 


He felt in himself Pam’s rage and fear and the overwhelming concern that she might pull her hair out or scratch her own skin. Only when nothing else in her reach would budge did he see the Pam he’d always loved finally resurface. 


“No...,” he thought to himself. “That was wrong.” Because he’d loved this one, too, loved her all along. 


As he watched her, he saw, for the first time, her exhausted eyes, worn from the weight of being a caretaker. He heard, for the first time, her cry for help, her plea, despite herself, for his support. He felt, for the first time, the raw, unfiltered emotion that partnered with the possibly of being the only spouse to survive. 


In the silence, in the noise, she covered her face and sunk down slowly against the cabinets, weeping into her hands. Surely Pam would hate him now. He was weak. He was selfish. He had done this to her. He was the monster. 


But he would not allow even himself to take what he and Pam had. He decided to close the gap. 


“Hey, hey...,” he soothed, crashing forcefully down beside his wife, pulling her violently close, deep into his chest, where no more distance could be felt. 


“Just breathe,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”


He rocked her back and forth, holding her tightly in his arms, guiding her through the panic. 


“Just focus on my heartbeat. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered to her over and over again until the trembling finally stopped and she drifted off into exhaustion once again, the rain beating hard against the window. 


Because people always talk about the stereotypical side effects of chemotherapy such as nausea or hair loss, but no one ever really talks about the scarier side effects like high fevers, dizziness, or especially...the nightmares. 


But Jim had always heard that it was in the storm that people realized their true character.


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