Melissa McCall walked down the hall of the Stilinski house to the guest bedroom where Stiles now stayed in. He had been diagnosed with Frontotemporal dementia only a month and a half ago but it had progressed quickly due to the darkness that lived within him. Stiles was no longer possessed by the nogitsune, Derek and Scott had gotten rid of it, but he was still lost to them, no longer himself and this time there wasn't anything they could do.
Melissa walked to the door of Stiles new bedroom and peeked in. It had been equipped with a hospital bed for Stiles, an ordinary bed for whoever was keeping watch that night, and the necessary medical equipment that was now required to properly take care of the sick teenager.
The Sheriff insisted he take care of his son at home instead of a hospital. He couldn't bear to watch him to waste away in a hospital like his wife had, even though he knew the end result would be the same.
The Sheriff sat on the hospital bed cradling his boy and rocking him slowly, whispering soft reassurances that "everything is alright."
Stiles had memory lapses often and now it seemed he had slipped into his child-self state of mind. Mellissa could hear him crying and whimpering "where's mama?" every so often.
The Sheriff simply kept rocking and rubbing circles on his son's back said "it's alright. Mama's making dinner she will be back soon. Shh baby boy, daddy's got you. It's alright"
They told Stiles what he needed to hear, to settle him down. Even if it wasn't true it didn't matter because Stiles would forget the conversation soon anyway. Melissa backed away from the door and left the pair to themselves trying to keep the tears from escaping.