12. Day 374

"Do I play basketball?" Larissa signed.

Jim made a nodding motion with a closed hand. "Yes."

Thinking for a moment, Larissa hooked her fingers together. "Am I friends with a rabbit?"

Jim knitted his brows and smirked, "Yes."

"Am I," Larissa started finger spelling, "Michael Jordan?"

Jim shook his head. "Only five questions that time."

"Your choices are too predictable," Larissa signed, fingerspelling out "predictable". They played this "Who am I" game as a way to practice sign, though today it was a way to pass time in the store they were picking up supplies up from. When Jim and Larissa set out this morning it was sunny with few clouds in the sky, they had no clue they would get caught in a thunderstorm. Thankfully the storm started after they reached the building but the lightning had drawn out at least one silencer, Jim heard it destroying what he believed was a tin roofed shed up the road.

So they took a seat in the aisle and started playing this "Who am I" game, which Larissa was dominating. The next round Jim took eight questions to guess Gwen Stefani, rolling his eyes hard but smiling when Larissa fingerspelled "bananas" to the imaginary beat of "Hollaback Girl". "You're getting better." Larissa signed with a smirk on her face.

Jim laughed silently and looked out the glass door. The sun was out again, already drying up the sidewalks. "You ready to head back?"

Larissa pressed her lips together as she studied the street, "I suppose I've beat you at this game enough."

With a soundless chuckle, Jim got to his feet and helped Larissa to hers. Once their supply-filled backpacks were on their shoulders, they faced the door. Jim looked at Larissa with raised eyebrows, neither of them itching to go first. Smirking, Larissa held her left hand palm-up and put her right fist in it. Jim smiled and did the same, and they taped their fists on their palms three times before he flattened his hand and she flicked out her index and middle finger.

Larissa shook her head, spinning her finger in a circle and making a clapping motion. "Always paper."

"Force of habit," he mouthed, and they smiled before Jim turned to open the door. He stopped a couple steps into the street, craning his head in all directions and listening carefully. He turned to Larissa to give her a thumbs up, and she nodded and stepped into the street.

He ended up several paces in front of her before turning around and noticing Larissa was tying a loose shoelace. She stood smiling, giving him a thumbs up. Then it happened so fast. Movement in the alleyway behind her, causing her to gasp and step backwards into a puddle, the splash loud enough to make the silencer charge her. His scream was masked by her own, the long leathery arm coming down followed by her falling to the pavement. For some reason it didn't come towards him, instead ran the other way, and Jim rushed to kneel at her side.

The gash ran from her neck down her waist, and she breathed in short gasps, "It's okay, you're gonna be okay," Jim whispered the lie over and over. He pulled his sweater over his head, getting ready to apply pressure but Larissa's hand on his wrist stopped him.

"It's okay," she whispered back, smiling weakly.

The tears flooded his eyes and yet he felt a smile tug at his lips. Throwing his words back in his face, as little sisters tended to do. He set the sweater down and took her hand. "It's okay," he whispered until the light in her blue eyes dimmed and her hand went limp.

The cabin was much too far to carry her back to. There was, however, a wooded area just behind the row of buildings, Slipping her backpack off her shoulders, he lifted her and with blurred vision carried her to a small clearing. He walked back to the store, found a small shovel. The ground was still wet and he easily dug a shallow trench. He lifted her body once again and set it down. I'm sorry , Jim said silently as he folded her arms. I should have protected you better, he thought combing through her hair. "I love you," he whispered, his lips touching her forehead.

Once she was covered in earth and surrounded by garden stones, he said one last goodbye and turned to the main road.

Everything felt oddly blurry and bright as Jim walked through a forest alone, one backpack on his shoulders and the straps of another smaller one in his hand. He reached up and with his sleeve wiped sweat and tears from his eyes. He caught a glimpse of his hand, blood dried on the back and dirt caked under his nails, before dropping it limply to his side.

It was a while to the cabin, and the thought crossed his mind to just stand still and scream out. It could all be over so easily, so quickly.

Movement flashed in the corner of his eyes and he stopped and studied the woods around him, and when he looked forward again he drew in his breath. Larissa .

She stood before him in white, her hair dark and shiny, her skin with no hint of a mark. Jim didn't know how to respond other than making a circle with his fist over his heart. "I'm sorry."

Smile on her face, Larissa shook her head and lifted her hands, "I'm okay. Don't worry about me." She pointed away from both of them, then hooked her index finger. "She needs you now."

Jim knitted his brows and put his thumb to his chin, moving his forefinger. "Who?"

"You have to protect her, Jim. No matter what." Larissa signed.

"Jim!" The voice was unfamiliar and distance and Jim swiveled his head to try to figure out where it was coming from. When he turned back, Larissa was gone. Then he heard his name, a whisper in his ear. " Jim. "

He woke with a start, eyes popping open and sharp gasp coming out of his mouth. Instinctively he turned his head and found Pam still fast asleep and facing away from him. She breathed deeply, her ribs expanding with each inhale and Jim reached out to loop a loose curl around his finger. For several moments he stayed like this, waiting for the stress of his memory-turned-dream to dissipate. Once his heart was back to a normal rate and his hand less shaky, he carefully got out of bed and crossed the room to the dresser where his clothes where. He checked over his shoulder to see if Pam was still asleep before turning back and reaching into his backpack, pulling out a small pouch and slipping into his pocket.

The light flickered, the sign breakfast was ready, and Jim sat on the side of the bed and touched her shoulder. He smiled as she scrunched her face and opened her bleary eyes to him. "Breakfast time," he signed.

"Don't look at me," Pam signed in reply. She brushed the underside of her jaw with her thumb then with her first and middle finger ran down her chin, "I'm not cute yet."

Jim smiled and spun his index finger in a circle, then tapped his own chin with his first two fingers, "You're always cute."

Pam smiled back and Jim leaned down to kiss her. She signed that she needed a few minutes so he should go ahead downstairs, and Jim reluctantly left her in bed to head to the dining room.

When Angela set down a plate of boiled beet slices in front of Jim, he smiled wide to stop his lip from curling and signed "Thank you." One farming lesson he had unfortunate learned was beets grow fast enough to get two crops a year, so the shelf downstairs had been replenished with jars of crimson and breakfast once again consisted of too many of the earthy-tasting vegetable. Even Pam, who tolerated beets far better than Jim, seemed to hit her limit the last week or so, nibbling at best on breakfast everyday.

Jim looked up from his plate as Angela served Dwight and felt his eyebrows meet. They seemed to have been better recently, more interaction, especially in sign, more doing chores in the same vicinity. Yet Angela all but dropped the plate in front of Dwight, looking away before he could sign "thanks". Dwight pressed his lips together and looked down to his plate, avoiding Jim's widened eyes.

After a few bites, Pam finally arrived downstairs and Angela popped up to fetch her breakfast. Pam waved her hands to get Angela's attention. "Just a little bit please," she signed. Angela scowled but nodded and the plate she set in front of Pam had about half the usual amount of food.

"Did you reached your beet quota?" Jim signed.

Pam smiled briefly and lifted her hands, "I guess so."

Jim reach across the table to give her hand a squeeze, the too-large fake engagement ring she still wore everyday digging into his palm. He looked back towards Angela and Dwight and held one hand up flat, palm toward him, and moved his other hand down his open plan, like a list. "What's today's agenda?"

Angela put two closed fists together and made a circle. "Laundry. You have anything?" Jim signed that he would bring laundry down after breakfast and Angela looked to Pam, " You have anything?"

Pam said no and Angela stared at her for a moment before looking back to her plate. Jim instantly shot Pam a "what's that about?" look, and Pam just scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"How about you?" Jim asked Dwight, and Dwight set down his fork.

"Supply run," Dwight said. Angela abruptly stood up and left the table with her half-eaten meal. Pam and Jim watched her with raised eyebrows, but then Dwight continued. "Pam, you hold onto the radio-"

"Can I go with you?" Pam interrupted.

Dwight frowned for a moment, then looked to Jim, "I suppose you can handle the radio."

Jaw clenched, Jim nodded then shifted his eyes to Pam. It had been nearly two months since they saw the silencer, she had gone on fishing trips since then but a supply run to the nearest town meant going nearly twice as far. And Pam volunteered so quickly. She looked to him and smiled before signing, "I'll be fine, plus Angela is in a mood and I want to be far away."

That made Jim chuckled, "I get that." He remember the bag in his pocket. "I have plenty of chores so I should be able to avoid laundry."

"Like she would let you do the laundry," Pam retorted with a smirk.

Once Jim was equipped with the radio and an overly detailed hand-written guide of how to use it and what common acronyms stood for , Pam and Dwight slipped on their backpacks and set off. Jim watched them all the way to the road, waving when Pam turned back to him.

He retrieved the laundry from their room and headed outside. Angela and Pam's exchange about the laundry entered his mind briefly, it was an odd moment and Pam seemed uncomfortable. But it was probably just Angela being Angela and Jim stopped thinking about it by the time he reached Angela's wash station. She was already scrubbing away on her washboard, and Jim smiled, recalling when he and Pam first discovered Angela used such board and Pam signing to him, "What century is this?"

Jim set his canvas laundry bag down and Angela nodded. Chewing his lip, Jim figured it was only polite to offer assistance. He make a thumbs-up with his hand and set it on the open palm of his other hand. "Need help?"

Angela sighed, and let the clothing in her hand fall into the tub. She mostly whispered with a couple signs. "Thank you for offering, it's just … I have a system and -"

Jim nodded, "Okay, if you need me, I'll be near the barn." Angela nodded and Jim walked off, laughing to himself about Pam being completely right.

In the barn, he walked back to the milking stall and reached up to the high shelf. There were a couple pieces of extra fine sandpaper which he slipped into his back pocket. He slipped his hand into his front pocket and pulled out the small bag, emptying its contents on his palm. It was a ring, silver band with a small polished pebble soldered on.

After the silencer sighting at the river, they were a little apprehensive in their room, giving each other a kiss goodnight but hesitating to go further. For a week or so it was like this, until Pam purposefully held him closer after their goodnight kiss, biting her lip as her hand traveled down his chest, then tugging on the waistband of Jim's shorts.

The morning after he woke spooning her, his arm over her shoulder, his knees nestle behind hers. He lifted his arm gently, preparing to roll away when she stirred. It took him far to long to realize the movement of her hips was entirely intentional. Jim propped himself up on his elbow and tried to peer past her hair to her face, and it wasn't difficult to spot her wicked little smile. He grinned then pressed his lips to her neck and his hand reached up to caress her curves. Then he let his hand traveled down, over her smooth stomach and then further still.

They lay still as they both were coming down, him just holding her, feeling both their breath slow. Pam then slowly rolled towards him, her hair a mess, her eyes still heavy with sleep and a big smile on her face. She was so beautiful. "I can't believe I found you," he whispered, futilely trying to brush a wild curl off her cheek.

"I found you ," she whispered back sleepily and he chuckled softly. She did indeed find him, wandering up his cabin that one day last fall. More than that she brought him back to life. He had spent months just existing, finding food, doing chores, going to bed, repeat. He never seriously considered ending at all but would lie awake in bed he contemplated what exactly the point was.

She rested her left hand on the mattress near her face and began to doze off, and he brought his hand up and started tracing her fingers, especially the third one.

There's a tug at his pant leg and Jim is brought back to the present, looking down to see Hilde gnawing at the fabric, her tag wagging wildly. She had wandered into the barn from her paddock, clearly thinking he was going to give her food. With a silent chuckle, Jim squatted down, holding the ring near Hilde's nose. "What do you think?" he signed to the goat.

Hilde took a couple sniffs but once she determines the ring wasn't edible, she started to walk back outside. A moment later Jim followed, crossing a grass field to the other paddock where Hans grazed. Jim walked to the far side of the fence and took a seat on the grass, pulling the sandpaper out of his pocket and holding up the ring.

After watching her put on the gaudy overly-large ring for the hundredth time, he decided it was time to find her something new, something that matched her better, and perhaps most importantly something that was his.

Not far up the road from the farm was an small antiques store. Jim spotted the knocked over sign on a supply run and one day managed to sneak off to the shop in hopes of finding materials. He maneuvered carefully through the crowded shop, finding a jewelry case and grabbing anything that was round from it. Back at the farm, he sorted through the vintage rings, a couple had stone settings he liked but all seemed to be a little too large or too small. There was an alternative, a pair of simple silver hoop earrings, easily adjusted to any size. Over the next week, he would steal away a block of time and head to the basement where Dwight had tools for electronic equipment that sufficiently doubled as jewelry tools. He used a metal saw to cut a stone setting off one of the rings as well as to cut down a hoop earring. With pliers he pulled the gemstone out of its setting and closed up the earring to a ring sized loop, sealing it up and attaching the empty stone setting with a soldering iron.

There was a small creek on the edge of the farm, too small to fish but good to fetch water from, and one water trip Jim scoured the creek bed looking for smooth pebbles and found a small white stone. After a lot of polishing, he placed the shiny white pebble in the setting, bending the prongs back down with pliers.

Now it was a matter of giving it to her. He had fussed with and polished it a little every day for the past several days, but the time never seemed quite right. And in all honestly a small part of him was afraid. It was unreasonable, they were committed to each other in every way possible, in Dwight and Angela's eyes they were already engaged, but actually asking her was still somehow a scary prospect.

Running the fine sandpaper over the soldered joint of the ring, he heard a soft snort behind his head and looked to see Hans right there, sniffing the air. Smiling, Jim turned around and held up the ring. "How should I ask her?" he signed as a joke. Hans responded by nipping at his fingers and Jim jerked his hand away, the ring flying right out and into the grass. Jim sighed and frowned at the goat, who just tilted his head before running away. Thankfully Jim had polished the ring up enough that it glinted in the sun and he found it in short order. The stone setting was under his thumb pad when he picked it up, and he felt a sharp edge. A closer look and Jim could see one of the prongs was sticking up, he would need pliers to smooth it back down.

Walking back to the house, Jim saw sheets billowing from the cloth-lines but no Angela. She was also not in the kitchen or living room when he entered so he figured she must be upstairs. He gently opened the door to the basement and started down the staircase. Once passed the hum of the refrigerator he heard shaky breathing and stopped. Angela was faced mostly away from him, her small body shaking with what appeared to be quiet sobs, her arms clinging to something knitted and blue.

Jim felt frozen, unsure if he should walk over to her or just turn around and go right back upstairs. Wiping her eyes, Angela turned her head slightly and gasped when she caught sight of Jim.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" Jim started whispering, but Angela waved her hand a little while shaking her head. She turned back around, gazing at nothing in particular and Jim was facing the stairs with his hand on the railing when he took a breath and walked towards Angela.

When Jim was next to her, she jerked her head to him and Jim was expecting a curt "what do you want" or even a "go away" but she just watched him pull up a chair and sit next to her. He saw the knitted blue fabric was a blanket, and her hand the photo he spotted his very first day at Schrute Farms, Angela smiling wide with a little blond boy.

They sat silently for what felt like a long time before Angela inhaled deeply, "His name is Ben." Jim eyes flicked up to her face but she was focused on the picture. "Today is his fifth birthday. Would have been." she whispered with a sniff, her eyes filling with tears again.

Ignoring the sting behind his own eyes, Jim smiled, "He's beautiful."

Angela's eyes snapped to his and to his surprise she smiled. "He was such a good little boy. He loved animals, the goats were his favorite. he would to watch them play and laugh, he had the sweetest laugh." Angela cast her eyes down and her chin trembled, "We tried to protect him when the demons first came through, kept him inside while Dwight dealt with the animals. Ben asked where all the goats were and…" She sniffed. "I told him there was another farm where they could run and play more so they went there. And he just said it sound nice and he hoped he could visit them one day," she said with a laugh.

Jim chuckled, and Angela lowered her eyes to the photo again.

"He stayed so quiet. Mose, Dwight's cousin, he carved Ben wooden animals and Ben was so good when he played with them. Kept them on a blanket, moved them so carefully." Angela smiled, but it faded quickly. "It was sunny, we were all outside harvesting, doing our chores. Mose was carving and Ben was with him playing. I passed them and Ben had dozed off, a little wooden animal in his hand. I was going set my basket by the house and then come back and carry him to bed. When I got the house…" She inhaled shakily. "He must have had a bad dream. He woke up crying, calling for me. Mose tried to quiet him but Ben kept crying. I dropped my basket and ran towards him. But the demon… and when I tried to scream, there was a hand on my mouth, arm around my waist pulling me back." She sniffed and shook her head. "Dwight was right do it, nothing could have been done, it's just…" she looked up to Jim with red eyes, "he stopped me from going with my son."

Jim felt an ache in his chest, he knew a little about survivor's guilt, the pain of wondering daily if he could have done anything to save his family, only surpassed by the pain of knowing that he couldn't. Angela must have felt that ten-fold, with the added anger of Dwight subduing her, interfering with her deepest, strongest instincts to protect her child. And Dwight felt this all too, Jim was sure, the guilt and the pain. Leaning forward, Jim took Angela's hand. "He misses you, so desperately."

"I miss him too," Angela sobbed softly. "But sometimes I look at him and that day comes back, so strongly. Things just feel … broken, and I don't know how to fix it."

"I think … you have to try to forgive him." Jim gave her hand a squeeze, "And you have to try to forgive yourself."

She looked at him one again, eyes wet and worried and lips trembling, ready to blurt out that she couldn't. He nodded, you can, he said silently.

They sat without words for several minutes until Angela stopped sniffling. She finally pulled her hand from his and sat up straight. "I have laundry to do still, and I need to start dinner." She stood and carefully folded the blue blanket. "I imagine you still have chores, why were you down here anyway?"

Jim felt his brows shoot up on his forehead, "Oh, I needed some pliers."

Angela's eyes narrowed, "For what?"

Jim stifled a chuckled, actually a little bit happy that Angela was returning to her normal self. "Just, for something in our room."

She was clearly still skeptical but gave a firm nod. Once she was couple paces away, she turned back. "I appreciate you sitting with me."

Jim smiled and give a shrug, then remembered something and caught Angela before she was too far up the steps. "Hey, do you think you can go easy on the beets with Pam's dinner? I think she's having a little stomach issue, and beets seem to put her off."

"Yes, I've noticed Pam not feeling well, especially in the mornings." Angela said with a look not unlike the one she gave Pam at breakfast. Jim knitted his brows, unsure what to say, but Angela shook her head. "Yes, of course, I'll make her something light." She turned abruptly and Jim shrugged off the odd exchange and went back to the workbench for pliers.

Dwight and Pam returned from their supply run without incident and the four sat down to dinner. Angela and Dwight were still about as quiet as they were at breakfast, but Angela was at least not so obviously avoiding Dwight's eyes. Jim looked to Pam, whose appetite seemed to be improved from the morning, and signed with his hand low. "You were right about Angela not letting me near the laundry."

Pam smirked and gave her best "told ya so" look. Jim laughed silently and eyed the ring on her finger again. She would have a new one, very soon, he thought.

After dinner, Pam decided to take a bath, so Jim was up alone upstairs He washed his face, trimming his beard a bit, and tidied up the room, folding clothes and rearranging the dresser. The door was ajar, and one time when he glanced up he saw a flash of blonde pass by. He walked closer to the door, careful not to appear to be watching, and could see Angela at Dwight's room. He saw Dwight notice her and walk over quickly. They stared at each other a while and then Angela took a step forward, into Dwight's room. The door carefully shut behind her and Jim couldn't help but smile to himself.

Out of things to put away or straighten, Jim stood looking around nervously. Music , he thought, and rushed over to his backpack. The CD player still had some battery, and Jim thumbed through his small collection of discs, wondering what would be a nice song.

A shadow fell over him and he spun his head and smiled when he saw it was Pam in the doorway, hair wet and a robe wrapped around her. But the smile quickly faded when he realized her eyes were shiny, her chest heaving. He stood and rushed over to her, "What is it?" he mouthed.

Pam's bit her lip and she pulled something out of pocket of her robe. When she opened her hand Jim saw a flat, white plastic stick, in the middle an oval display with two crisp vertical lines. His eyes darted back up to her face, and her chin trembled. She made a circle with her fist on her chest. "I'm sorry."

Jim shook his head, hating that she felt she had to say "sorry". In any other circumstance this would be the happiest news of his life. She covered her mouth to muffle her sobs and he quickly pulled her into an embrace.

"What am I gonna do?" she whispered over and over into his chest, his shirt becoming wet with her tears.

"We're gonna figure it out," he murmured. He pulled back a little and tilted her face to his. "I'm here. We're gonna figure it out together." He cupped her cheek and wiped the tears away with her thumb. "I'm here."

With wide green eyes, she searched his face, and he keep his gaze steady on her until the corner of her mouth lifted. She rested her head back on his chest and he hugged her tightly.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, "I'm going to protect you." He could feel her relax slightly in his arms, her breathing becoming more steady. His words were working and helping her become calm, helping him stay calm.

But in truth, he had no idea what they were going to do.