A/N: a couple of short notes before we continue our story. I did a lot of research to find out the last name of Reggie, the husband of Booth's mom, but I couldn't find it, so I named him after the actor who played him. If any of you know what it is, I'd appreciate it if you let me know.

Also...several people have commented via reviews and PM that this story is very sad, and that's true, although I'm planning on what I hope is an uplifting ending. However, even though it's sad, I think it is perhaps a story that should be told, because several families face similar issues. So I'm going to finish this story, sad as it is. Maybe the next one can be cute and fluffy. Laura

Booth was clearing his desk on Thursday evening in preparation for missing the next day at work. The original plan had been for him to go with Reggie, his mother's husband, to visit the assisted living center where his mother was currently residing on Saturday, but Reggie had arranged for an appointment so that Booth could meet his mother's neurologist Friday afternoon. Reggie wanted Booth to understand everything that was going on with his mother's current health crisis, so Booth had agreed readily. He smiled to himself as he put the day's files away in the cabinet. Reggie seemed to be a stand up kind of guy...kind and honest...the sort of man anyone would welcome into their family. Reggie wanted to make sure that Booth was informed every step of the way so there would be no secrets and no surprises when it came to his mother's care, and Booth found that he really appreciated Reggie's concern and attention to detail when it came to his mother's well-being. It was also obvious in talking to Reggie how much he loved his wife, and that he was truly devastated by her illness.

Booth decided to check his email one more time before leaving for the evening, and he finally found what he'd been waiting for. He'd sent an email to Gordon-Gordon on Monday morning, describing the situation with his mother, and requesting the chef's input. Booth chuckled at the craziness of the whole idea. How strange was that? Asking a retired psychologist turned chef for his opinion on matters dealing with family and relationships? Booth opened the email and read it thoughtfully, hearing Gordon-Gordon's voice in his head as he did.

Agent Booth, I am truly sorry to hear of your mother's illness. The news of her dementia is really quite dreadful. I certainly understand your need to visit the place where she will be residing to make sure it is suitable for her and that it will meet her physical and emotional needs. Please be aware, however, that the situation may be fraught with emotional landmines for you. Your own emotions may be very close to the surface while you visit her. My advice to you is to honestly acknowledge those emotions, and to allow yourself to feel them, even if you decide that it is not possible to express them civilly while you are with her. You may still be angry or hurt by the lack of relationship with your mother, and it would certainly be understandable, given the circumstances, if you feel unhappy when you see her again. It is important for you to believe that it is perfectly normal to feel that way. You are not less of a man if you feel that way, and you do not love your mother any less no matter how you feel. If you wish to explore these feelings further, I would not be adverse to receiving another email from you when convenient. GGW

Booth leaned back in his desk chair as he gazed out the window of his office. If he was being honest with himself, he'd have to admit to being nervous about the journey he was getting ready to take….actually, he was absolutely terrified. He had no idea if his mother would even recognize him anymore, and even if she did, he wasn't sure what she would remember about their relationship. Things had still been a bit strained, even after she had attended his wedding, but maybe that was due to the onset of her illness...and maybe that wasn't even important anymore. Maybe it was time to move past all of the awkwardness and bad memories and just accept things the way they were. He'd go to see her and offer his support to Reggie. As her son, it was the least he could do for her husband.

Oooooooooo

Booth spent the almost four hour drive to Atlantic City trying to avoid thinking about all of the sad things that had happened during his childhood, choosing instead to try to remember the good times he'd had as a boy. He smiled as he remembered his mother pounding away on the old piano in their basement as she tried to work out the words to an advertising jingle, or as she practiced some song that she wanted to sing at the VFW dinner or at the Elks' Lodge meeting. She'd always had a nice singing voice, and in an alternate reality she might have been famous as a singer. As it was, she had married when she was a very young woman, and Booth had been born soon afterward. He had vague recollections of his maternal grandparents, but they had died when he was a small boy. Booth watched the scenery rush by the car as he remembered the day his parents had brought his new baby brother Jared home from the hospital. His dad had left home again an hour or two later to go tell his friends at the corner tavern about his new son, and he'd come home that evening roaring drunk. That was the first time, Booth remembered...The first recollection he had of his parents yelling at each other...and things went to Hell quickly after that…

Booth shook that memory off as he glanced in the rearview mirror. He wanted to concentrate on the good things...like his mother teaching him to dance as he stood on her feet while she sang those old songs to him, even though his father was afraid it would make him a 'sissy boy'; letting him pound on the piano while he pretended he was Liberace as he sang to his heart's content; giving him the Phillie Phanatic stuffed toy that was sitting in Hank's crib when Booth left home this morning...all of these glimpses into the past were the things he wanted to remember about his mother. She wasn't perfect...but then again, neither was he...and, he suspected, she really did love him, even if she had left him and Jared on their own when she left their father for good.

Finally, he understood. His dad had many mental health issues...alcoholism, PTSD, who knows what else...and for whatever reason, he never got help with any of them. Maybe his mom suffered, too, dealing with his father...and maybe she didn't know how or where to get help either. People in that time period didn't ask for help with problems like that...those problems were supposed to be solved in private at home. How many times had Pops said that it was a bad thing to air a family's dirty laundry in public? Maybe his mom was even too scared to tell the priest at their church about the abuse she suffered at the hands at her husband...the priest might've told her that was a wife's burden, and divorce was unacceptable…maybe she had no one to turn to, and she didn't know what else to do...

The four hours passed quickly as Booth mused on his parents' lives and their relationship with each other. At last he found himself in Atlantic City, following the directions Reggie had given him to the medical office building where the geriatric neurologist's offices were. He pulled his SUV into the parking lot and saw the smiling white haired man waving to him.

"Seeley, I'm glad you could make it. I know neither of us wanted to meet again this way…."

Booth shook Reggie's hand as they entered the building. "I know...it's rough, isn't it? But I'm glad you called to let me know what's going on. I wouldn't want you to go through this thing all by yourself. I'm her son...I need to shoulder some of the burden and take on some of the responsibility, you know?"

"Marianne told me you'd say that." Reggie saw Booth's surprise. "She still has lucid moments from time to time. I told her you were coming to see her, and she said you were her knight, coming to protect her from the bad guys."

"Yeah, well…" Booth was slightly embarrassed as they waited for the elevator. "I'm glad to help you both however I can…"

"I know you are, son." Reggie felt Booth shift uncomfortably next to him in the elevator car. "Sorry. I guess I overstepped my bounds there, but listening to Marianne talk about you...hearing how proud she is of you…it made me think that it'd be great if I could count you as my son, too…if you're okay with that, I mean…Look, I know things between you and your mom weren't always peachy, but I know you love your mom a lot, just like I do. Maybe we can try to work things out...the family stuff, that is..."

Booth glanced over at Reggie and realized that the older man was being sincere. "You're right...I think we can work on that...it might take me a bit of getting used to,you know, being called son and stuff like that...but I'd like to have you as part of my family, too…"

"Great. Okay, we'll work on it…together..." The elevator chimed to let them know they had reached their floor. "Here we are...Dr. Whittaker's office is right down here…"

After a short wait, Booth and Reggie were shown into the doctor's conference room. "Mr. Pine! It's good to see you again. And this gentleman must be Marianne's son. It's Mr. Booth, isn't it? Please sit down. I'm glad you could come, Mr. Booth. Mr. Pine has been trying to fill in some information about your mother's medical history, but…." She shrugged as she gestured for them to sit in the chairs across from her.

"I understand." Booth leaned forward in his chair. "I'll be glad to help. What do you need to know?"

Dr. Whittaker accessed his mother's medical history on her computer. "Well, to begin with, does she have any siblings? Did any of them suffer from a similar disease?"

Booth sighed as he thought about his uncles. He still remembered how much fun they had together whenever he got to see them, which wasn't very often…"My Uncle Frank died of a heart attack when he was in his fifties, just like my grandfather, his father, did before him. My Uncle Mike...he died of a stroke when he was in his sixties. Both of them were older than my mother. I don't think she had any other siblings...she was the baby…"

"I see." Dr. Whittaker typed quickly as she continued her questioning. "So a family history of cardiovascular disease. Any history of diabetes in the family?"

"Not that I know of." Booth shook his head. "I don't think anyone's had this type of dementia thing, either, but I don't remember much about my grandmother." He paused slightly before he made his next statement. "I had a brain tumor a couple of years ago, Doc…"

"What kind of tumor was it, Mr. Booth?" Dr. Whittaker stopped typing and looked at him with curiosity. "You seem to be in excellent health now…"

"Jesus, I don't know...a small one? I'll text my wife and ask her...she'll know what it was."

"Is your wife a neurologist?" Dr. Whittaker turned back to her computer monitor, smiling faintly.

"No, but she's a genius and she'll remember...just a minute…" A few seconds passed before Booth's phone chimed to inform him that he had received a text. "It was a benign cerebellar pilocytic astrocytoma...sounds scary, doesn't it?"

Dr. Whittaker smiled as she typed. "I assume there were no long term effects?" She continued to type as Booth shook his head. "Well, good. Thank you for the information."

Reggie noticed the pause in the conversation and took the opportunity to address the doctor. "I want you to add Seeley as next of kin on Marianne's medical records, please. I guess you should list me first, since I'm her husband, but I'm no youngster, so put down there that he can make decisions if I'm not around…"

Dr. Whittaker nodded as she added the note to the chart. "I'll note that on the records, Mr. Pine, but you'll also need to fill out some paperwork for the clinic and the care center. You might also consider giving Mr. Booth Marianne's power of attorney in case you aren't available."

Reggie nodded in agreement. "We have a lot of details like that to work out, but we'll address all of it soon enough. However, the reason we're here…"

"Of course." Dr. Whittaker looked up at Booth and began to explain his mother's illness. "It appears that your mother suffered a head injury many years ago…"

Booth sighed softly as he glanced over at Reggie. "Yes. She was in an abusive relationship when she was much younger...my father beat her..." God, it hurt to hear those words out loud...

"It appears that she perhaps sustained some minor brain damage...nothing that would have affected her everyday life, other than it might have caused some headaches or balance issues. Did she ever mention those symptoms to either of you?"

Both men shrugged as they thought over what they knew about Marianne. Reggie finally responded. "Occasionally she'd get a bad headache, but nothing some aspirin couldn't fix. Is that related to her problems now?"

"I'm not completely sure. When we did the last CT scan, there appeared to be some evidence of a small stroke in the areas of the brain related to memory and cognitive functioning . It's possible that the stroke may have hastened the progress of her dementia. I can't give you a definite time frame, but my impression is that her loss of memory is occurring faster than I would normally expect in this sort of dementia, possibly due to undiagnosed hardening of the arteries related to cardiovascular disease. Even though she is in fairly good shape physically, her mental acuity is decreasing at an alarming rate."

So there it was, finally out in the open...the bad news about his mother's dementia. "How long are we talking about, Dr. Whittaker?" Booth held his breath, not sure he really wanted to know.

"Maybe a year to eighteen months...at the most, two years. Her body could live for several more years after that, but her memory and higher cognitive functions will no longer exist…"

Booth let out a deep sigh as he watched Reggie brush away a tear. He avoided eye contact with the doctor as he asked the next question. "I understand. Will we be able to keep her comfortable in the assisted living center? I know Reggie is very concerned about that..."

"Yes. I don't believe she's in any pain physically." Dr. Whittaker bit her lip, blinking back tears as she watched the men across from her begin the long grieving process that usually followed this sort of diagnosis. "I wish I had better news for you, gentlemen...I really do. There are experimental drugs being introduced all the time...other therapies we can try...but I'm not sure they would be effective…"

Booth reached over and patted Reggie on the shoulder as the older man wept quietly. "Thank you for seeing us this afternoon, Dr. Whittaker. We need some time to process this information and discuss our options." Booth helped Reggie out of his chair, steadying him as he stood shakily. "Come on, Reggie. Let's go have a cup of coffee. We need to talk." Turning back to the doctor, Booth spoke to her quietly. "We appreciate your time. We'll be in touch…"