I don't own the Office or any of its characters.

Warning: mentions of sexual assault, assault and battery, physical and verbal abuse

AN: I had a question about the general timeline of this fic, specifically whether or not it's AU. Basically in this fic Jim and Pam are seven months into their dating relationship and are living together. I realize this may be AU but it's just what I'm going with. I don't know if I'll include their engagement in this fic because then I'd have to go into Pam's going to college, but their engagement would occur approximately 2-3 months after this fic in my timeline. If you have any other questions feel free to ask!

This chapter is longer than any so far but I didn't feel like I could break it up. Please let me know what you think!

"This sucks."

I'm roused from my post-crying doze by Jim's low voice, gravelly from tears. I nod, my face still pressed against his chest. "Yeah."

He leans back and looks down at me. "Is that the first time you've seen it?"

I nod. "It was hard enough just talking about it all, I didn't want to watch the final result." We're quiet for another long moment, both deep in thought. I feel like any words I say will just be a few of the thousands that will have to be spoken as we get through this. It's hard to know where to begin. "Are you going to watch the security video?"

Jim hums softly and I enjoy the vibration against my cheek. "Are you? Do you want me to?"

"I don't want to see it again," I admit. "It's up to you if you want to watch it."

Jim pushes gently against my shoulders until I'm halfway into a sitting position and we can look at each other. "But do you want me to watch it? I mean, I don't have to…"

I shrug. "I honestly don't know. On the one hand I think maybe you'll always wonder…but then I don't want you to see that every time you look at me, or be afraid to touch me."

He nods, his eyes staring off into the distance as if he's deep in thought. "Well, I know it'd be too much for me to handle right now. Let's say we hold onto it for a few days, and I'll let you know what I decide."

I smile and am about to snuggle up against him again when my stomach suddenly growls loudly. Jim raises his eyebrows and smirks adorably at me. "I didn't finish my breakfast this morning," I explain with a blush and a sheepish smile.

"Well, it's only eleven," Jim replies, checking his watch, "but we could go out to lunch, or we could stay here if you want." He holds up a hand. "You know what, I actually have an idea. What if we went to see your parents tonight? We could grab some lunch on our way out of town."

I take a moment to consider this. I know he wants to do this so he can talk to my parents about the…incident, I guess you could call it. And it'll be good to get that out of the way, even if it's a little sooner than I'd expected. Finally I nod, just as Jim is starting to look worried. "Okay. Let me just call my mom really quick and make sure they're not busy."

My mom answers on the third ring. I'm in the kitchen, my phone cradled between my ear and my shoulder while I wash the dishes. Jim has gone out to his car to grab his bag, which he forgot earlier. "Hey honey!" my mom answers.

"Hi Mama," I reply, smiling involuntarily. My mom always makes me feel good. "So Jim and I were wondering if it would be okay if we came and saw you guys today, maybe stayed the night."

There's silence on the other end for a few seconds. "Pam, is everything alright?"

I sigh. "Okay, so yesterday Jim and I were playing volleyball with some friends of ours and I got hit in the face by the volleyball so now I have a black eye. And this morning I accidentally told Jim about what happened last April. We've had a really rough day and I know he probably has a lot of questions, and also we'd just like to spend some time with you and Dad, get our minds off of things. Michael gave us tomorrow off also to deal with this. Are you busy tonight?"

"I just have to make cookies for my Bible study tomorrow morning, but you could help me with that. And your dad was going to help me hang up some pictures in the living room, so maybe Jim could help him. What time are you thinking you'll be here?"

I turn as Jim comes in and shrug even though I know she can't see it. "Well we still have to pack and we're going to go grab some lunch beforehand so...between four and five?" I raise my eyebrows and Jim nods his agreement, leaning against the counter to wait for me.

"That sounds great, sweetheart. I'll let your dad know! Text me when you're on your way."

"Okay," I reply, "we'll see you in a few hours. Love you, Mama."

"Love you too, sweetheart. Bye."

Jim smiles as I hang up. "So what does your mom have planned for us?"

I laugh. This is an ongoing joke between us—my mom always feels like she has to have every minute planned when she has guests come, especially if it's people besides her immediate family, like Jim. She's starting to calm down now that she's gotten to know Jim a little better, and also since I've told her how he really likes to not have a ton of stuff to do. His family is such a contrast to mine—when we go visit his parents often we'll just spend hours hanging out, nothing planned. It's how we normally are at our home, so I always like that environment. "Well, I'm helping my mom bake cookies, and you're helping my dad hang up some pictures in the living room."

"Hold up," Jim protests, holding his hand up in front of him, "what if I want to bake cookies? Don't I get a choice in the matter?"

I shake my head, trying to fight back a grin as I walk slowly towards him, finally stopping just a step away with his hands on my hips. "Sorry, mister, baking is more my thing in this case."

"Oh, I know," Jim replies, looking pointedly at a painting of a bowl of fruit hanging on the wall by the sink. I painted it in one of my first art classes and it's the only things I hung up in our apartment. It's constantly crooked because it's at an angle where I can't look at it straight on, but Jim always teases me about it. "You and I both know that interior design is maybe not one of the areas you're gifted in."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, well, some of us can't hang pictures straight…some of us can't even snap our fingers."

"Now that is low, Beesly," Jim protests, a wide grin betraying him. "You know I'm insecure about that."

"Oh yeah, so insecure," I shoot back, pressing even closer to him and reveling in the flirtatious tone of his voice. I feel like it's been days since we've played and joked around like this, though in actuality it's only been hours. "Come on, Halpert, you know your lack of dexterity is made up for at least in part by your hot bod."

Jim quirks his eyebrows at me, obviously trying to keep from bursting out laughing. "'My hot bod', huh? You're one to talk."

I raise my eyebrows, expecting him to continue, and tilt my head towards him. "Oh, don't stop there! Come on, tell me how beautiful I am."

His eyes soften and he gently frames my face with his hands, gazing at me intently. "You're so beautiful," he whispers.

My face heats up, both from a blush and from tears which are, not surprisingly, again springing up in my eyes.

"You are, Pam," Jim continues softly. "I knew it the first day I saw you. You are beautiful physically, and just…the person that you are is even more beautiful. I fell in love with you so easily, and I'm only falling harder every day. Even today."

A tear slips down my cheek and Jim brushes it away with his thumb. I let out a shaky sigh and smile. "God, Jim, you can't expect me to hear something like that and not cry, even on a good day."

"This is still a good day," he inserts, reaching down to take my hands again.

I nod in agreement. "You're right. Any day I'm with you is a good day, even if it's a hard day." I take in a deep breath and exhale harshly. "And, okay, while we're still on the topic of like…physical stuff," Jim smirks at my blush, "I just want to make sure you know that you've never scared me in any way." He sobers and squeezes my hands. "I just think maybe you might worry about that…like hurting me or forcing me to do something…after finding out about all this, but I trust you completely, and I always have, with my heart, with my dreams, and with my body. When I'm with you it's because I want to be with you." I press up against him until I'm practically cross-eyed but I just want to be close to him. He gives me a small smile in response and waits for me to continue, but I just feel like there's so much that needs to be said and I don't know where to begin. I stare at the hollow of his throat for a long moment, trying to figure out what to say.

"I just…" Jim finally begins, his voice trailing off, "you would have told me, right? If there was ever anything you weren't comfortable with or I did something…" He shakes his head slowly and drops his gaze to our joined hands, his face tortured.

"Jim," I say in a more forceful voice, "I love you. I enjoy being with you because I love you. And you've never done anything that I didn't want. You're gentle, and respectful, and playful, and kind." I sigh and press my lips hard against his, wrapping my arms around his neck. When we break apart he's breathing heavily and devouring me with his eyes in that way I love. "I love you, baby," I whisper. "I love you so much, and I trust you with every part of me, and—"

He kisses me silent for the second time that day, but again I don't mind. "I hate this," he moans sadly when he pulls away. "And I love you. I love you so much it feels like I'm dying."

My heart's melting and I'm about to cry again as I nuzzle my face into the hollow where his neck meets his shoulder. "Such a cheeseball," I whisper through my tears.

His laugh is loud and joyful and warms my heart. "Yeah, well, you're a flirt so…"

We pull away and both wipe at our eyes. "Always have been with you," I quip, but my smile fades as Jim's does.

"Did he ever do anything…because of me?" Jim chokes out.

My throat is aching but I force myself to speak anyway after a long moment of silence. "Do you want to go sit down again?"

His eyes fill with more tears at my response and a few slip out as he replies, "You're okay going without lunch for a little while longer?"

"I'm just going to grab a pop tart to hold me over," I reply softly, some part of the back of my mind pointing out how weird it is that we're both so close to breaking down as we discuss snacks. "I'll be right there."

My leg is bouncing restlessly as I sit on the couch waiting for Pam, my mind racing. I need her to just hurry up and tell me everything so my imagination will stop running wild.

The three minutes she's in the kitchen feel like an eternity, but finally she comes in carrying a mug and a plate. She sets both on the coffee table and sits on the other side of the loveseat so we can face each other, grabbing a pop tart from the plate as she does. "I texted my mom and told her we got sidetracked so we'll probably be a little late. I brought two," she comments, gesturing to the plate with the remaining pop tart. "You can have the other one, it's still warm."

I nod and grab the pastry, nibbling frantically on it as I wait for her to speak. She breaks her pop tart into several pieces, staring at it intently before sighing and meeting my gaze. "I know you're probably imagining all these worst-case scenarios, so you really need to know everything that happened."

I almost comment on how accurate she is at reading my thoughts but I feel like I'd choke from stress so I just nod in response.

"Mostly Roy was just suspicious," she begins. "He knew you and I were friends, and you know how he was, always getting jealous so easily. He suspected a lot even though nothing really ever happened between you and me until…later." She shakes her head and shrugs. "I think part of it was that he knew if I left him he'd be all alone, so he was really paranoid and didn't trust me at all. He felt like he had to constantly watch over me and make sure I knew I was his."

I fight back my gag reflex thinking of how Roy could have showed her that.

"You have to understand that up until that day he actually hit me, it really was mostly just words. He would threaten a lot and say mean things, but for the most part it was just verbal. Not that that doesn't hurt; a lot of that is probably why I'm still not as confident as I'd like to be, but the point is that most of the time I was physically okay."

Pam takes a bite of her pop tart and a sip of her tea as she gathers her thoughts. "But of course now you know that that wasn't true all of the time. There was one time, pretty soon after Katy came by with her purses, when I was wearing some new lipstick. Inwardly I hated that you were going out with her and you seemed happy, so I wanted to…I don't know, remind you that I was there? Not that you neglected me, but I think even then you were probably trying to distance yourself because I was still with Roy."

I nod, confirming what she's saying, and think back on the women I dated over the years I knew Pam, always trying to find someone who would make me as happy as she could and never coming close. I remember the day she's talking about. I hated that lipstick. It was hard enough to keep from being distracted by Pam without her wearing makeup that focused my attention on her lips.

"So I wore some new lipstick," Pam continues, bringing me back to the present, "and Roy got really mad when he saw me. I met him at his truck and he grabbed me by the back of the head and scrubbed at my lips with his jacket until the skin was raw. He said he didn't like that I'd been wearing that all day when he was the only one I should be trying to impress, and also that the color made me look like a hooker. He told me he was the only one who was ever going to want me anyway so why was I even trying?"

God, I want to kill him. We're both quiet for a moment, Pam's eyes sad and vacant as if she's lost in the past, and I want to bring her back. "I thought you looked beautiful," I admit softly.

Her wide smile is light in this dark day. "Did you really?" A cute blush colors her cheeks and she shakes her head. "I saw you looking at my lips a few times, but I wasn't really sure what to think of it."

"Well, I was really just fighting not to ravish you in the middle of the office," I quip, grateful for the moment of comic relief. "It was a hard day."

She grins even wider and wriggles her eyebrows at me. "Oh, was it now?"

Now I'm the one blushing. I chuckle awkwardly and rub the back of my neck. "Like I said, you're beautiful," I admit honestly.

Her eyes soften and she smiles gently at me before blinking and shaking her head. "Okay. So." Her brow furrows. "I want to be specific so you're not always wondering."

I nod, my expression serious again. "I want that too."

"Okay. So like I said in the video he would grab my arm too hard sometimes. He did that after we played that prank on Dwight about the alliance and we were laughing together when Roy came in. My arm was bruised the next morning from when he led me out of the office. And also the night of the Dundies when I didn't get in his truck. I think he suspected I wanted to spend time with you. Which was true."

Her expression is conflicted as she taking another bite of her pop tart and chews thoughtfully. Finally she swallows and nods, holding my gaze seriously. "I'm going to tell you the worst, okay? Just so you'll know it was never worse than this."

My heart squeezes painfully but I nod, preparing myself for the worst.

"It was the night after you told me you were going to Australia. God, Jim, I was so sad. And I was angry that I was sad because I knew I shouldn't be feeling that way, or at least not that much. You were my best friend, so it made sense that I wouldn't be happy you were missing my wedding. But it sort of hit me that you were the one I wanted there the most, even more than Roy, and that scared me." She folds her hands together and grips them until the knuckles are white, keeping her eyes focused on the pale skin. Her voice is soft and sad. "I told Roy I was really sad that you wouldn't be coming. I figured that he was my fiancé, so I should be able to share my feelings with him like you'd mentioned. But of course he got angry and jealous. We got in a huge fight and he said maybe I should be marrying you instead, and we were both screaming."

Her voice catches on the last word and she lets out a shuddering breath. I reach out and take her hand, and she squeezes it gratefully.

"I ran upstairs to the bathroom and locked the door. He was banging on it and yelling at me, and I said I was taking a bath and he needed to go downstairs and calm down. He left and I didn't hear anything for a good half hour. I was in the bathtub crying and trying to figure out what I was feeling, and all of a sudden I heard his footsteps and he kicked the door open. The lock broke." Her voice is shaking, my heart is shattering, and I don't want to hear what happens next. "He was so drunk and angry, and he leaned over me and grabbed my shoulder and told me to say that I was his. I didn't know what he was going to do, so I said I was, I said I'd always be his and no other man would ever have me. Then he stumbled back downstairs. There was a hand-shaped bruise on my shoulder for days. I stayed in the bathtub until the water was freezing and promised myself I was going to go into the bedroom and pack my things and leave, but instead I just crawled into bed and the next morning I was still there."

A tiny sob touched with relief escapes from her lips and I gather her into my arms and hold her as she cries. "I was so stupid," she sobs. "I let him treat me like I was nothing."

"You were scared," I whisper against her forehead. "And you left."

"Not that night," she protests weakly.

"You did eventually," I shoot back. "You were so brave, sweetheart, for finally leaving. And now you're safe."

She sighs and wraps her arms tighter around me. "I feel safe with you."

I smile against her hair. "I'm glad. I always want you to feel safe with me."

We hold each other for a long time. My chest feels full to bursting, both with the weight of all that's been told to me and also because the worst is over. There's so much to take in.

Once again, Pam's stomach interrupts the relaxed moment. We both burst out laughing and can't stop for a full minute, we're both so giddy with relief and an overwhelming array of other emotions. At last Pam stands. "So I'll go upstairs and pack. You want to text Michael and tell him we're going to take tomorrow off also?"

I nod, wrapping my arms around her waist again and pressing my cheek against her stomach. "I love you, Pamela Beesly-someday-Halpert."

She chuckles and rakes her fingers through my hair. "That's what Michael called me this morning."

"Well," I say with a shrug, letting her go, "it's true." She leans down to press her lips to my forehead and winks as she walks toward our bedroom. I exhale slowly and put my head in my hands, too overwrought to even begin to process everything. All I know is I love Pam and she loves me, and for now that's all I need to know.

Too cheesy? I was definitely cringing. But these two are cheeseballs, so it's unavoidable. Stay tuned for the next chapter!