Chapter Ten

Apartment of Robert Goren, 1115 E. 96th Street, Brooklyn, Thursday, June 22

Goren managed through an awful night. He had no idea a broken arm was going to fuck everything up. The last time he broke anything, it was minor: a toe, some fingers playing basketball as a youth, he'd even cracked a rib or two fooling around with Lewis in a bit of a fender-bender, but nothing, nothing compared to the situation he found himself in last night.

First off, it was two (not one) broken bones, and a cast that was ridiculously heavy and not at all easy to get comfortable in. There was the chronic throbbing low grade pain, and the fact that it took him twice as long to shower, not to mention get his fucking clothes off in the first place. He had to place a plastic bag around his arm; and just imagine tying off the fucking bag with one hand. Oh yeah, and have you ever tried to open your pain meds with the instructions: press down with one hand and turn while the other hand acts like an uncooperative asshole?

And with all the additional stress, there was no nicotine to turn to either. He raided his fridge twice before finding himself drawn to chewing on the transparent blue eraser cap at the end of his mechanical pencil. He tried to read, but couldn't focus on more than three sentences. In desperation, he put on some jazz records which kind of helped before he finally passed out on his armchair.

Eames contacted him twice, including the night before when she texted him that she arrived safely at her apartment. And then no surprise, informed Goren that she was headed to New York Presbyterian to check in with her father.

Then right on the mark at nine in the morning, his cell phone buzzed and vibrated.

"Good morning Eames."

"How bad was it?"

"Mmmmm," Goren thought long and hard before deciding to ignore her question completely. Honestly, he was still too pissed to talk about it, "how's your dad?"

"Worst deflection yet," Eames irritation rang clear through his headset, "but, I think I can manage to bring you a few meals during the day. So, whaddya want?"

"Really? Most taxi cabs I know won't deal with the trek from Presbyterian to Canarsie during the lunch or rush hour" Goren was trying to be funny, but after a wretched night of sleep and frayed nicotine-craving nerves, he was paranoid that it probably came out more like a mean spirited ass, "look, thank you, but I can manage."

"But how are you going to cook with one hand?"

"By picking up my cell phone and autodialing take-out."

Eames laughed, "I'm going to bring you a home cooked meal Sunday night, and I won't take no for an answer. Senior partner privilege. But hey, it looks like Dad's going to get kicked out tomorrow afternoon, well, provided he continues to show improvement. So I'll get him settled back into his place Saturday."

"What time will you come by?"

"You got plans?"

No, but it's going to take me twice as long to get ready.

"No," he admitted, "I'm just not - "

"Into surprises," Eames laughed, finishing his sentence, "are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?"

"I'll see you Sunday, Eames. I hope your dad feels better. Uh, send him my best."

"Thanks, I will." Eames paused, "See you Sunday."

Fuck, he thought as he hung up. She was busy with her dad. Truthfully, he didn't want to burden her any more than she'd already been given, (with her dad in the hospital and all), but more importantly, he didn't feel like it was a good idea for her to be around him in this state. He was unusually cranky and quick to lose his temper under the circumstances. He'd recently released a fair share of colorful language just while attempting to shave.

Office of Dr. Paula Gyson, 931 Broadway, Sunday, June 26

He sat in Gyson's waiting room, between two large prints of Japanese calligraphy that he determined were most likely from the Edo period.

His legs vibrated up and down, nervous energy coursing through his body. So much had passed in a week, and truth be told, he'd been both looking forward to and dreading this appointment.

"Detective?" Gyson paused, unable to disguise the shock of seeing him in this no doubt sorry ass state, "Robert?"

He stood up quickly and walked through the grey utilitarian door, "I-uh, well, as you can see," he lifted his cast up and waved it unceremoniously, "it's been a busy week."

Gyson ushered him in before gesturing for him to sit down, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Water, thank you," Goren settled down across from her, taking a seat in one of Gyson's designer leather chairs.

Gyson poured him a glass of water before pulling a side table over to the left hand side of his chair so he could set his glass down without effort.

"Uh, you don't have to," Goren started, but stopped when he realized Gyson wasn't going to mind his protestations.

She sat down across from him, folding her feet comfortably under her, which was a bit of an odd position, but one he'd become familiar with after seven sessions. What still unnerved him however, was her ability to see through him, much like she was doing now: quietly studying him, waiting for him to both commence with and choose the direction of the conversation.

He sighed, "thank you for, uh, continuing to meet with me, I know that you didn't have to uh, continue with our sessions."

She smiled and nodded, waiting patiently, putting the pressure on him to choose the tone, texture and theme of the subject they would discuss this afternoon.

If she tossed any hints his way, it was in the way her eyes drifted to the cast on his right arm, the one that stood out shockingly against his black t-shirt.

"Part of the job," Goren tried to laugh it off, "it happened Wednesday," he paused, "in Indiana of all places."

Gyson's eyes narrowed slightly, "that's not your dominant hand, I hope?"

"No," Goren ran his left hand through his hair, "but, it's already having an effect on my ability to work."

Gyson nodded, "on everything, I imagine."

True. Goren didn't feel like going into the minor fits of rage he felt like going through every time he went to snap or button his clothing, forget his necktie, he was going to need a fucking clip-on. But damned, the worst part was just trying to sleep comfortably, that or washing himself in the shower. I mean, for the first few nights, he slept on his recliner.

"Sounds frustrating," Gyson continued, "how are you dealing?"

He shook his head, "I guess as well as I can."

"And how about when it effects your work?" Gyson probed, "you'll be unable to drive or carry a firearm? For what, six to eight weeks?"

Yes. Thank you for reminding me.

Goren nodded, "at least. And yes, it is very frustrating. I mean, it won't be the first time I've been suspended from normal duty, o-obviously, but the first time that it's been something physical that's held me back."

"And you've only just come back to the job," Gyson reminded softly, "So what will you do when frustration sets in?"

He shook his head, trying not to become irritated by Gyson's obvious segue-way into anger management, "I-I'll do a better job of understanding my limitations, try to lower my expectations. Uh, lowered expectations abate frustrations."

Gyson shot him a knowing look, "Very textbook answer," she observed before needling, "Will your partner absorb more responsibility?"

"Sure," he sighed, "but she already drives, and, you know, in terms of not being able to carry a firearm, well, uh, physical encounters are still a rarity."

"Are they? Maybe you've been lucky." Gyson challenged, "Look, now that your physical state is compromised, what if a situation were to get physical again? What if something happened to your partner because of - "

"No, no, no," Goren shook his head with emphasis, "I know where you are trying to go with this."

"Okay," Gyson sat forward in her chair, "where am I going with this?"

"It's obvious that you are, you know, trying to rile me. Turn this into an opportunity to go full out with your anger management agenda."

"Try to keep in mind, this isn't the continuation of your review," Gyson reminded, "you passed."

"Passed with recommendations," Goren clarified.

"And it was your choice to come back, to show up with a broken arm, and walk through that door. I'm assuming it's because you want and are ready to start getting into some of the more difficult work."

Goren chuckled to cover his growing nerves.

"Come now," Gyson continued, "let's stop playing games. I know you're smart enough to dance circles around the issues for our entire hour session, but is that what you really want?"

No. It's not what he wanted, but he was still too fucking afraid to open up.

"Now," Gyson leaned forward one inch closer, "did you get agitated back there because I suggested this was going to have an impact on your ability to do your job," Gyson looked directly into his eyes, "or because this turn of events compromises your ability in such a way that could endanger and pile more responsibility on your partner?"

He turned away from Gyson, stood up and started pacing, nearly knocking over the side table with his water in the process.

"Fuck," he muttered, steadying the glass, eyes searching for something to wipe up the water, "uh, sorry."

"It's okay," Gyson responded, "don't worry about the water. Let's start right here - and no running away. My gut tells me that you'll continue to get agitated anytime I bring up your partner."

He continued to pace, refusing to stop and give her any indication that this was in fact the truth.

"It's a process of elimination, really," Gyson spoke quietly, smoothing out a strand of hair with her right hand, "in the past sessions, we've discussed both work and your family. And because the issue of your job security is no longer in question," Gyson motioned towards him, as if she were gesturing for him to sit back down, "Well Robert, you tell me. Tell me what you are feeling when I bring up your partner."

"I - uh, you know how I feel," Goren shook his head back and forth, "uh, I-I have this strong desire to keep her out of these sessions."

"You want to protect her."

"Yes," Goren emphasized, "s-she didn't ask for this you know?"

"Ask for what?" Gyson queried, "I'm not working or reporting to NYPD anymore. Therefore, why does your partner, who from what you've described to me is very capable of taking care of herself - "

"Look," he growled suddenly, "I lied okay? Everyone lies."

"Well," Gyson errantly pulled at the fabric on her skirt, "They might lie to protect someone they care about."

"I know you know," Goren revealed with a tinge of emotion. He decided to stop pacing, making his move over to the couch opposite the chairs and plopped down, his heart racing, breath heavy, "I mean, you're smart. And your job is to read people too."

Gyson smiled warmly and nodded.

"So, how long did, uh, when did you figure it out?" Goren looked up to meet Gyson's eyes.

"Your actions, your body language," Gyson explained, "When I asked if you loved her – you went from calm to highly agitated in a small amount of time, and you were fidgeting more than usual." Gyson paused in thought, "Actually, it was the most agitated you'd been in any of our sessions well up until the following session, but that was all a distraction, wasn't it? Altogether, it was a real tell. I knew I'd hit something."

"And there is something very deep here," Gyson cautioned, "and I don't know if we will be able to uncover the root of the issue in one or multiple sessions for that matter. What I do want, Robert, or rather what I want to ask of you, is that you be patient with me. And be patient with yourself. Together, we will head into this uncharted territory - and if at any time the subject becomes too painful or causes you to feel undue anger, anxiety or any emotion that you feel you cannot process or control, I want you to try practicing a different technique."

"So," Gyson continued as to explain the technique, "when it becomes too much, we'll take a timeout. Count to ten, or breath in and out from your center for a solid minute. Then, when you feel calm enough, I want you to work on expressing your emotions in an assertive, but non-confrontational way."

He nodded, "I know the technique."

And in his heart of hearts, he knew that this is what he wanted and needed all along: he wanted to let go, share the burden, but he'd be lying if he wasn't scared shit-less.

"You admire her, you respect her and," Gyson paused, "you love her. And that's a good thing, these are all positive reasons to have feelings for your partner."

"For Alex, uh A-alexandra ," Goren personalized, even though they'd talked about Eames, Gyson nor he had ever identified her by name during any of the sessions.

"So, you have feelings for her, romantic feelings?"

He nodded tentatively, as if saying the words might still be betraying Eames.

"For how long?"

"I-I mean, she's you know, very," he paused deep in thought, "uh, like yourself, she's very attractive, uh so, of course right from the start, i-it was nothing really, just you know, sometimes noticing her like, uh, like any straight man, I guess."

"But then something changed?"

"She uh, she, you know, uh in an earlier session, I said their were breaks, uh, the first was during a maternity leave - "

"I'm sorry?" Gyson looked relatively shocked, "She was pregnant? I thought you said - "

"Yes, uh, she was married, but this was during our partnership, uh, long after Joe, yes h-her husband was killed in the line of duty not long before we were assigned as partners," Goren paused, edging back over to his original seat to get a sip of water, "she carried, uh, she was a surrogate for her sister, and you know, had to take some time off."

"That must have been an interesting challenge. How did you feel about her making that decision? A decision which clearly had an effect on your partnership."

Goren rubbed at his chin, "well, yes, it was, you know, I-I wanted to be supportive, so I was, but - "

"But?" Gyson gently prodded.

"I felt awful, you know," Goren sighed uncomfortably, "I was torn, feeling guilt on one end of the spectrum because, well, I-I was very upset with her, and uh, it was a struggle working with a temp partner. I guess I knew at that point, you know, when I was missing her, I – uh started understanding how much I needed her."

"You needed her," Gyson mused, "you missed her. Interesting words. There's a difference between need and love. Or I suppose there is another kind of need. A need or desire for physical intimacy."

"It's not like that," Goren grumbled.

"Then what is it like?" Gyson pushed, "You used her name in our session for the first time, and that's a step in the right direction. But you still have yet to reveal how you really feel about her."

"Look," Gyson leaned back into her chair, "you need to stop playing this game with yourself. You need to think about what it is that you need from her. You need to define your emotions, don't keep lying to yourself. I know, I understand, it's what you've done to stay safe, to stay sane. But by not allowing yourself to have real, identifiable words for your feelings, well, yes, you've protected yourself from the pain of losing her or the pain of rejection, but you've also prevented yourself from actualizing the things that you need."

"But I don't get it! Why define when there i-isn't," Goren struggled to find the words, "it's not realistic. It's not to be had, w-we don't, we have these defined roles, we can't just," he sputtered.

"Can't what?" Gyson asked, "Look, I'm sure you've seen enough examples in your line of work, enough to know that when you act out of fear, your fears come true."

"So what is your greatest fear detective?" Gyson riddled.

TBC

This Gyson session is getting heated and long - long enough that I'm going to break it up into two sections. Yes, Goren needs lots of therapy. But then again, I don't want to bore the cr*p out of you.