A/N 1: JellybeanChiChi and I would like to extend our apologies for the delay in between chapters once again. As reiterated in the past, this story WILL be finished, but delays are possible, and unpredictable. We appreciate always, your patience and understanding, and hope that you continue to enjoy the story as it approaches its conclusion. (It will) Another excellent chapter from Co-Author Jellybean. I think you'll all agree that she has done an AWESOME job on this chapter.

Author's note 2 : Neither one of us are experts in EMDR, or been through it. But there was research that went into this chapter, including an interview with a member of law enforcement who went through this therapy. She and a bunch of other first responders swear that EMDR works, despite it looking like weird, psychological mumbo-jumbo (as she put it). It's fascinating to learn about the origins and such. Hope you enjoy and sorry for the delay.

CHAPTER 63

While Grissom was not the type of man who solicited hugs, he found himself clinging to Oscar Jimenez after the therapist drew him into a hug. It was as if all the painful emotions that he tried to conquer in the last several months ambushed him at one time. And because he couldn't run away, he grabbed hold of Jimenez as he wept.

After a moment or two, Grissom calmed and controlled his breathing. He began to loosen his grip on Jimenez and draw away, but the therapist didn't want him to retreat, so instead of putting his arms down, he placed them supportively on Grissom's shoulders.

"Thanks, man," Jimenez said.

Grissom held an honestly perplexed look on his face. "Why are you thanking me? I should be apologizing…"

Jimenez wouldn't let Grissom finish that thought. "You stood here in front of me and worked through powerful emotions."

"Is that what that was?" Grissom asked, softly, with a tinge of embarrassment.

"Yeah, that's exactly what it was," Jimenez said.

"You're going to tell me it's time to give that EMDR a chance, aren't you?"

Jimenez smiled and lowered his arms off of Grissom. "Like I've been saying today and during your past sessions, it's the therapy we've been working toward." EMDR referred to Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, a protocol geared to help people deal with trauma. "I'm guessing you researched the hell out of it?"

This time a small smile escaped Grissom's thinned lips. "I can't deny that."

"What happened in the last few hours shows me that this is the right time," Jimenez said. "I know a counselor's available now."

"OK," Grissom said. "Can't be more painful than sharing in a room full of cops, right?"

While asked somewhat flippantly, Jimenez gave his response with seriousness, compassion and support. "It's going to be OK, Gil. You're ready for this. I truly think this is the step you need to take to move forward with your life without these emotions and feelings that you carry like anchors."

Grissom simply nodded and gestured with his hand for his therapist to lead the way.

When he first started to research EMDR, Grissom thought it was an unusual approach psychological issues in since it didn't rely on either talk therapy. When he first read about the method, he was reminded of hypnosis and thought that would be counterproductive in dealing with his issues. He wanted to deal with them, not mask them, and felt hypnosis would mask his issues.

But then he read more, from both therapists and patients. It wasn't hypnosis. EMDR uses a patient's own rapid, rhythmic eye movements. These eye movements dampen the power of emotionally charged memories of past traumatic events.

That's what he was looking for, and despite the fact that the session could last up to 90 minutes, Grissom thought it was "now or never." While 90 minutes might not seem like much from first blush, he couldn't last a few minutes thinking about his situation and voicing his anger and concerns without breaking down, so, yes, a 90-minute session might be exhausting.

Or even impossible.

Yet, he sat face-to-face with the EMDR therapist — Jordan — who offered him a pleasant smile. He had met Jordan previously for "intake," where they discussed his most pressing concerns and triggers.

"You ready, Gil?" The question garnered a nod, but Jordan could tell Grissom was nervous. "Remember, Gil, this is all about healing. And when things get too much, or you feel like you need to take a break, I want you to communicate to me that you need that break, not with words but with a signal that tells me you need that time to calm. You think you can develop a signal you feel comfortable with?"

Going back to his familial roots, Grissom put his hands up and pushed them up and down twice. "This is the sign for calm in ASL," he explained.

"Perfect," Jordan said. "When you need to, use that sign OK?"

"Yes."

EMDR works to target and recognize the triggers and circumstances that cause the patient emotional harm and stress. The patient is asked to describe not only visual image of the event, but also sensory memories and emotional responses. Once targeted the patient and therapist work to desensitize internal and external triggers are desensitized and the patient develops an adaptive method to control a less damaging and more positive response to the memories and situations.

The way this is done is through the eye movement that occurs throughout the entire course of the session. The patient focuses on a rhythm accomplished by watching a therapist moving his or her fingers in a back-and-forth horizontal or diagonal motion. If that cause a type of nausea or vertigo response, a tapping upon one's own legs could be employed.

For Grissom, watching Jordan's two, fixed fingers move back and forth in a horizontal motion was easy for him to follow.

"Your eyes are following my movements?" Jordan asked.

"Yes, I can follow them fine."

"I'm going to work on the speed a little. Tell me when the speed is comfortable for you to follow."

"A little slower," Grissom said as his eyes seems to dart a little too fast. "Yes… that's better…. I can follow your fingers."

"Good," Jordan said, momentarily stopping the motion. "Before we begin, I want to start with focusing on an image and a place, if you will, where you can find peace. This is a place we will revisit through the session, so I really want you to empty your mind and focus on all the sensory imagery your mind can develop in this place. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Gil said. "I've been trying to work on that with meditation techniques."

"A patient who does homework: a therapist's dream," Jordan said with a slight smile, so not to take away from the calming atmosphere of the room. "OK, you take your time Gil, I might ask questions, but when you feel and see something, I want to you do so and share that, OK?"

Grissom did take his time. After a couple of minutes, he spoke, his voice reflecting a cautionary, calm. "I'm on the beach."

"Any particular one?"

"One I used to walk when I was growing up."

"Which coast?"

"West coast."

"Big waves?"

"High tide, moderate waves, but they crash with synchronicity with a flag flying on a flagpole near the guard stand. It's almost as if the waves are talking to the flag."

Jordan smiled. The therapist noted how Grissom's body language began to reflect calmer than caution. "Are you walking?"

"Sitting on the sand."

"Tell me what you feel."

Grissom made an ever so slight movement with his right hand as it rubbed his right knee. "The sand is soft and cool. The sun's not high in the sky, but it isn't dusk either. So, the sun feels good, not oppressive. When the breeze hits, I can smell the sea and feel a little bit of mist."

"Stay there in that space, Gil," Jordan said, leaving a silence hanging in the room for another minute before asking, "Are you comfortable, Gil?" He nodded his reply. "I could tell you seem to find more and more peace as the moments went on."

"Yeah, once I sat down on the sand, it clicked."

"Good," Jordan reaffirmed. "Can you return to that space when you need to?"

"I believe so," Grissom said.

"Then let's begin with another phase. You've broken down many different experiences that have contributed to your post-trauma stress. For this session, I need you to revisit a particular experience."

"Right," Grissom said. "I'm ready."

"Just remember your gesture that you need some time," Jordan said, mimicking the ASL sign for "calm."

Jordan waited until receiving one last confirmation — a nod from Grissom — before continuing. "Tell me about that last day with your kidnapper. Tell me what you remember him saying and doing the last time you were in his presence up until the time you cannot recall anything until awaking in the hospital."

In the last few months, hell the last year, Grissom has experienced violence against himself and people he loves. Experiences he hates to revisit. The one Jordan wanted to revisit was a big memory with big implications.

"Deep breath, Gil," Jordan said, encouragingly.

Grissom closed his eyes and took that deep breath, and then another. Then he opened his eyes, seeing Jordan's hands moving in the horizontal direction they set.

While Grissom worked to prompt the memory, it was not an easy task. At times, he would recall a snippet of being handcuffed on that bed roll, then painful memories would flash into his subconscious like a bolt of lightning, jarring him, sometimes painfully, out of his memory.

It was frustrating, but with Jordan's patient and kind encouragement, Grissom tried again and again. Twice, he had to use his hand signal to stop activity in his session, which Jordan told him was not unusual. Everything in the session was to be done on Grissom's time. When Grissom choose to utilize his sign for calm, he would hear the therapist say, "Gil. Return to the beach." And with that, Jordan's hands guided him back to the memory of sitting on the sand. Then, once prepared, Grissom tried again. At times Jordan, would anchor Grissom in concentrating on taking a deep breath in order to continue.

It was about 35 minutes into the session when he was able to stabilize the memory firmly enough to completely revisit it.

"Talk about what you experience, Gil."

"Rory Dunbar woke me up by screaming at me and slamming my face with his fist. I… He uncuffed my hand and screamed for me to get up. I … I keep falling. My knee… is like moving lead. Heavy, painful."

As he recalled those moments, he worked to continue following Jordan's fingers, which he realized kept him grounded and focused. "He threw a shirt at me. Told me to put it on. Too large for me. It has a blood stain on it."

Again, Grissom paused. But Jordan's hand never wavered from moving. Everything was done in Grissom's time. "I see a stun gun and a camera… a video camera..."

Then his voice faded out. With his eyes still trained on Jordan's hand, his mind's landscape went back to that makeshift torture chamber. Breathing audibly, Grissom raised his arms reflectively above his head. It was the same position Rory had placed Grissom during that final torture session — in shackles above his head.

Unbeknownst to Grissom, he let out a moan of pain. But he didn't recognize that reaction of the present as he was fully entrenched in the experience of the past. And just as he would feel his arms lifted, he could hear Rory's demands to take all the blame for his brother Tyler's death. He could hear his own voice screaming back at Rory saying it was Tyler had broken the law. The prostitution, extortion, drug dealing, protection of criminals. Tyler choose to commit those crimes and did it all to himself.

Grissom let out another soft, strangled sound and Jordan could see the patient shaking ever so slightly. Grissom's mind replayed how he told Rory he was sorry Tyler died, and in response Rory took a strong, tight hold on Grissom's neck.

"SORRY," Rory had screamed in Grissom's face. "You're fucking sorry. Sorry doesn't begin to cover it, you fucking asshole!"

Then Grissom's arms suddenly and quickly dropped back to his sides. Jordan could still see Grissom following the hand movements, and the look on his face was one of fear and heartbreak. But Grissom did not give his signal he needed a rest. Yet, Jordan continued to watch Grissom closely.

As for Grissom, his mind stayed tethered to that room. The walkie talkie. The frightening words of "Daniel" "sniper," and "clear shot." The word "please" escaped Grissom's mouth. Then he could feel tears trail down his cheek.

While Grissom did not use his signal to temporary stop the session, Jordan's hand movements calmly ceased. The therapist felt Grissom might be coming to a point to share before something becomes lost. "Are you doing OK? Can we talk about what you saw and what you felt?"

Grissom took a sheet out of the tissue box Jordan offered. He dabbed at his cheeks and took a breath. "It was the last moment with Rory. Screaming at me. Choking me. Making me believe he was ordering Daniel to be killed."

Again, Grissom's voice trailed out and his body language slumped.

But Jordan recognized how involved Grissom was throughout the memory. It was a turning point in the session. "Gil, I can tell how painful that was, physically and mentally."

"I felt like I was back there."

Jordan nodded. "I want to process it with you. Can we do that? Do you need more time?"

The invitation did what Jordan hoped; Grissom sat up straighter. "Yes," he replied.

"Good. Thank you." Because of previous intake, Jordan had heard Grissom talk about what happened to him. "When you first described the memory, you talked about being awakened and sent to that room where he hurt you. Chronicle the feelings you had."

"Fear. Definitely fear."

"Because he had hurt you before?"

"Yes. There was that. But also, I just didn't know what he was going to do."

"So not just a continuation of what happened to you…."

"But escalation," Grissom added, continuing Jordan's train of thought. "And not knowing what he was going to do or how it might get worse … it truly scared me."

Once again, Jordan worked with Grissom to anchor his breathing. Then, the movements with the fingers continued. "What else, Gil? Keep going with chronicling what you felt. What are you getting? What are you noticing?"

As Grissom looked at Jordan, he noticed the therapist was not just listening, but also emphasizing. It helped him continue. He tracked the finger movements and slowly spoke about his feelings and experiences. It was another minute or so before he actually voiced something. "I feel… powerless."

Jordan said nothing, simply kept up with the finger movements. There was no need to fill in the silence.

"I couldn't give him what he wanted. But I didn't know what he wanted."

The finger movement continued at the same rhythm and speed.

"I felt so much desperation. I couldn't stop myself from showing it. I told him if he was going to kill me, he should just kill me."

There was a distress in Grissom's voice, but neither he nor Jordan showed signs of stopping the momentum of the session. "He was going to hurt Sara and Daniel. All while he laughed. He played with my desperation."

The lull lasted five minutes. Jordan stopped for just a few seconds to anchor Grissom's breathing. Jordan wordlessly asked, "Are you OK?" To which Grissom wordlessly replied, "Yes."

"What are you noticing now, Gil?"

"I didn't just feel powerless in that room," he responded in a clear voice. "Throughout this whole… ordeal…. Things were happening and I had no control. I've never felt so powerless for so long in my entire life."

"Go with that," Jordan said. "Take yourself beyond that room and go with that."

Once again, Grissom followed the finger movements. Once again there was silence.

But Jordan noticed the different expressions on Grissom's face. His mind was working. And in the right direction.

Jordan stopped the movement. "Breathe." Grissom's breathe felt cleansing. "Tell me what you noticed, Gil."

"It truly was out of my control," Grissom said. "The situation became worse and worse, and Dunbar pushed harder and harder, but no matter what, I couldn't give him what he wanted."

"Because it wasn't my fault."

The statement offered something Grissom hadn't felt in a long time — empowerment.

Jordan nodded in affirmation and began the movements, which Grissom followed. The therapist knew Grissom could make more strides forward if they continued. After three minutes, Jordan stopped to ask Grissom again, "What are you noticing, Gil?"

Grissom's face reflected a modicum of serenity that hadn't been there the entire session. "I survived."

Jordan smiled. "That's… that's great, Gil. Fantastic. Go with that."

And the movements started again.

The next morning, Grissom awoke with an unusual feeling.

He felt rested and content.

For the first time in months, he had dreamless, uninterrupted sleep.