A/N: Sincere apologies from Jelly and myself, for the long break between chapters. Life away from the computer got in the way, for quite some time. Jelly is working on chapters behind the scenes, and we hope to have this finished soon. Not sure on how many chapters there will be, but the end is in sight. Co-writer Jelly, did a fantastic job on this chapter, as per usual. And if my preview of the next chapter is anything to go by, you won;t be disappointed. I can't predict when the next chapter wil be ready, but this story will be finished, and not just left hanging

CHAPTER 62

Grissom kept his attention to the cup of lukewarm coffee in his hands. He knew he had been seated in a corner away from other members of the group session for a long while.

After an open, and sometimes raw sharing session, it was impossible to fight the overwhelming urge to retreat. Into a corner. Into himself.

He knew he couldn't physically meld into the paint of the walls behind him; decades of experience taught him that miraculous dream was an absolute falacy. Yet, he still sought a refuge not unlike a cornered spider.

Different members of the group mingled in and out of the area. Only a few of them would look Grissom's way. It made him feel a tinge of regret for sharing his feelings about his former team. Did these dedicated law enforcement professionals see him as a traitor to the cause? He sighed as his head fell forward a little more.

It was at the time, he heard a faint whistle - more like a "psst" one might hear in a library. He turned to the muted noise and his eyes found those of Rhetta's - the sheriff's deputy who shared after him. She gave him a smile and a wink before drifting to another area.

She had been speaking with a counselor and Oscar Jimenez, who nodded towards Grissom. Seeing Grissom nod back the therapist made his way to Grissom's corner. He grabbed a chair and sat across from him before reaching out to tap Grissom on the thigh.

"Holding up OK?" Jimenez asked.

Grissom shrugged. "I suppose so."

"You look stressed man," Jimenez said. "It's just us here. Let's talk."

Grissom looked around and it was true, no one else was in the room. "I don't know Oscar. I don't know if I should have said the things I did back there."

"Why? Because you were breaking some kind of bro code among cops," Jimenez said, practically reading Grissom's mind, until he reminded the former CSI, "You mentioned that when you were talking. You still feel that?"

"It's hard to let go of that feeling."

Jimenez nodded his head. "OK. I get it. I don't agree with you and I don't think the group did either, but I do get it, man." The two sat in silence for a beat before Jimenez spoke again. "You know, Grissom, one of the things I've learned about law enforcement and first responders is that being a cop or a CSI or an MET is pretty damn important to establishing your identity. Sometimes to a point where some people can't see themselves beyond that identity. And when the job is gone, sometimes that identity is gone too."

Grissom raised his eyebrow and stammered for a response. "I … I'm not a CSI anymore. Period."

"Do you feel like since you're not a CSI that you've lost a big part of your identity?"

Grissom looked down at his coffee cup. He did. He didn't want to admit it, but he did.

Despite not hearing a word from him, Jimenez could understand Grissom's thoughts. "It's not unnatural to feel that, Grissom."

"So are you saying I need to continue to identify as a CSI?"

Jimenez shrugged. "Actually, I'd rather you identify with what made you a good CSI."

"You don't know I was a good CSI."

Jimenez let out a chuckle. "Look if you're being humble, you don't have to because I know that's bullshit. But, OK, think about good traits and traits that maybe held you back as a CSI." The therapist watched as Grissom twirled his Styrofoam coffee cup. "All those traits are a part of you. Maybe some of the bad ones have dwindled. Maybe some of them are being stubborn and you're working on them."

This time Jimenez got a nod, which he took as a slight victory. "Yes, you were a CSI, and yes, you're not a CSI now. But that's not what you only were and it's still a part of you now that you don't clock in and out every day."

Grissom looked up at Jimenez and nodded his head. "So you're saying it's not about being a CSI."

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying," Jimenez said with a soft smile. "And, you have to know, it never has been about being a CSI. It's always been about who is Gil Grissom. And a few months ago, Gil Grissom was falsely put behind bars and fought like hell to get out."

"I was fortunate," Grissom said darkly, softly.

"Hell ya you were," Jimenez agreed solemnly. "But that doesn't mean you didn't demonstrate courage."

"There were plenty of times I wanted to give up."

"I'm sure. But you didn't. That's a trait I'm sure you demonstrated as a CSI and you still demonstrate today." Jimenez could tell that comment fell on deaf ears, but he needed to press that point home. "You know, I'm not sure if you were aware, but Rhetta is a real ball buster."

Grissom smiled at that. "I'm sure she's a helluva deputy. Tough."

"Damn straight. What did you think about what she shared?"

Grissom shook his head. "It was … something. Makes me realize she's even more amazing."

"Yeah," Jimenez said, allowing that comment to settle for a moment or two before continuing. "I cannot tell you how long she has held in those feelings, those situations, those revelations. Hearing her give voice to that, for me, was fantastic because ultimately, it's going to make a strong woman even stronger."

"It seemed like she was letting go of a huge weight," Grissom said.

"Yeah, and she might not have done that if you hadn't shared your own story," Jimenez said, seeing Grissom give him a confused face. "Knowing you were willing to open up about wrongdoing from law enforcement gave her incentive. If anything, at least one person in that room would be on her side."

"Well," Grissom started softly, "if it helped her, then I'm glad I spoke up."

"Since you and me have been meeting, you've talked about a lot of tough things going on in your head, man — you're in this limbo of who you are, what you lost and who you think you should be," Jimenez said. "But I need you to realize, you possess this foundation of courage and compassion that hasn't gone anywhere. It's a part of your make-up, no matter what happens or has happened to you."

Grissom returned to a slumped position, but almost immediately felt the need to stand up. He painfully pushed himself into a standing position as he leaned on his cane. "I appreciate what you say. I truly do, Oscar. But… I'm over 50 with no job, but I have another child on the way. My wife is overworked and been through far too much stress…" His voice faltered and he struggled not to break down in tears. "I don't just feel like I'm in limbo, I feel like I'm in a burning building and I can do nothing to protect my family."

Jimenez stood up and put his hands on Grissom's shoulders. "You did nothing wrong, man. You can do this."

Grissom pursed his lips and turned to get out of the therapists grip. But it was barely a struggle when Jimenez pulled Grissom into a hug.