AN: Thanks again for reviews, they make posting this story so much fun.

Chapter 14

The ride home was silent, no matter how his mother tried to hide it, it was obvious the treatment had tired the older woman. "Thank you for coming with me Gilbert, I think I will go ahead and retire." She announced when they had returned, giving her son a brief hug and giving a cryptic glance at Catherine before making her way to her room.

"You know I think we're making progress." Catherine said optimistically. "She's not giving me death glares anymore, now she's just acting more like you used to when something was bothering you."

"Hey," he said defensively, then realized he had no defense, so didn't try. There didn't seem to be a need to ask about arrangements as she followed him to his room yet again, both of them enjoying the closeness and insight provided by their late night talks.

They laid on his bed for hours as, at her encouragement, he talked about his childhood and shared stories of his mother. Relating many of his more pleasant memories of her, like how she had always encouraged his love for science and allowed him to bring all sorts of bugs and dead animals into the house without complaint.

Catherine mostly listened, laughing at some of the stories, grimacing at others, like when he lost a huge spider in the house. He had been some child, she realized. As he told stories about his mother, she realized that though somewhat emotionally reticent, perhaps not as nurturing as many, his mother had done a good job and had shown her love for her son in the ways she could. She didn't know if she'd have the nerve to let Lindsey keep bugs in the house. She was still not sure why the woman apparently didn't like her, but she felt much less bitter as she could now see her through the eyes of her only son.

His clock on the wall read almost 1:00 a.m. when they finally decided to part, their conversation being punctuated by yawns on a very regular basis. A long lingering kiss and then Catherine headed back to her room, still floating.

She paused as she got to her door, hearing a faint noise from the end of the hall, her curiosity taking over she began to walk that direction. It only took a few moments before she recognized the sound. Debating for a split second, she continued, knowing her presence probably wouldn't be welcome, but not being able to ignore it. She had spent enough time with a sick daughter to know the sound of vomiting when she heard it. She paused for a moment to think but decided to follow her instincts as she silently pushed the bedroom door open, almost knocking before she reminded herself that his mother was deaf.

As she turned the corner into the master bathroom she saw the elderly woman hunched over the toilet, body wracked with heaves, hair starting to fall loose from her efforts. The sweat indicating she had been having a rough time with the after effects of her treatment.

Just as she did with her daughter, Catherine moved to her side and placed a supportive arm around her shoulders and helped pull the hair out of the way as the dry heaves began again. When the next round of heaves passed and she was able to breathe for a moment, Catherine was ready with a cool washcloth which was accepted gratefully. When eye contact was finally made, Catherine could see many emotions; embarrassment, confusion, exhaustion and even a little guilt, but there was no hatred there.

"I'll go get Gil." She said, starting to pull away as the heaves seem to have subsided for now.

"No, please don't." The plea was weak but still audible. "He's already got enough to deal with, this is just a little nausea, common side effect I'm told." The weary eyes pleaded with her to comply with the request.

"Ok," Catherine agreed, "but I'm staying with you a little longer then." She would almost swear she saw a flash of something akin to gratefulness before the frail shoulders began to shake as the heaves returned.

"Do you have any medicine for this?" Catherine asked when there was another period of calm and the older woman was facing her again.

"Yes, the Dr. gave me something for it, but I threw it up over an hour ago." Catherine could almost swear she saw a hint of a smile at the irony. "I'm feeling a little better now," his mother said, after several moments with no more vomiting or heaves.

"Ok, let's get you washed up a little and then I'll bring you some gingerale and ice." Catherine said fully into mother mode, surprised when she received no resistance. An hour later and his mother was wearing a clean gown and settled into a clean bed with some ice chips at the bedside, and strict orders to call out for Catherine if she needed any help. The woman still wasn't gushing with affection, but there was an obvious melting of the icy exterior as compared to the first day. As she made her way back to her bed, Catherine couldn't help but hope this would make things easier on their strained relationship.