"Stiles, stay put," Noah insisted as he lifted the small child into one of the chairs in the waiting room, "I gotta help them find mom."

"I wanna help too!" Stiles pleaded as he got out of the chair but Noah just set him back in it before putting his hand on his shoulder.

"I know you do, but what's gonna help me more is if you stay here where it's safe."

Noah hated leaving without confirmation from his ten year old son, that's when he usually got himself into more trouble; but with the way Claudia's disease had progressed into suicidal ideation recently, she was priority. 'Stiles will be there when I get back.'

Melissa had given him access to the roof after the last time Claudia had left her room and sure enough, there she was; shivering in nothing but a gown and standing on the ledge.

"Claudia," he whispered as he walked toward her slowly before climbing up the small ladder towards her, "what are you doing up there?"

"I couldn't stand to be in that room anymore," she told him, her voice steady despite the fact that winter had started to settle in and the temperature was in the low thirties, "not with him looking at me like that." As she spoke, Noah gently took her hand, trying to keep her steady.

"Claudia..."

"He's trying to hurt me. I don't care if you don't believe me, but he is! He's trying to kill me!"

Noah knew it was just the illness and that her voice that was heavy with tears was out of genuine fear for her life, but at the same time, he knew fully well that Stiles wasn't trying to hurt her. He had been glued to her side since she had gotten the diagnosis, kicking and screaming every night when he had to leave her alone in the hospital.

As she whimpered, Noah held her hand in his, keeping his voice low as he spoke in order to keep an outburst at bay. "No. That's not true. You have to remind yourself that it's the disease," he paused to make sure she was looking in his eyes, similar to how he spoke to Stiles on a daily basis, "remember what the dementia does? It gives you delusions. It makes you think that people are out to get you...-"

"You don't see the way he looks at me, Noah. "

"Claudia, he's ten years old."

"He's trying to kill me," she sobbed, her voice cracking as she did before her gaze caught something and Noah turned to look, only for his stomach to drop as she said, "stop looking at me like that."

Sure enough, their ten year old son was standing next to the stairs with tears in his eyes and his hands twirled up in his red hoodie; but before Noah could say anything, Claudia struggled out of his hold and lunged towards Stiles.

"Mom!" Stiles yelped as she tackled him to the ground.

"Claudia!" Noah yelled as he tried to pull her off, "Claudia, stop!"

He eventually got her off of him, a tight grip around her torso as she screeched for him to let her go. "Claudia!" He shouted again as he watched Stiles run down the stairs and into the hospital, leaving him alone on the roof with her; security showed up shortly after, taking Claudia back to her room and Noah forced himself to follow, hoping to find Stiles and hoping that he wasn't too hurt. He eventually found himself in the ER, hoping to be able to recruit Melissa and her extensive set of keys when he saw them.

Stiles was fully sobbing against Melissa's purple scrubs, the two of them sitting on a gurney as she gently rocked him back and forth and ran her hand through his hair; she never stopped her gentle, comforting movements even when her gaze met Noah's and she mouthed three words in his direction.

"Security told me."

Noah nodded, wincing as the muffled sobs continued. 'You couldn't keep him safe.'

"Sweetheart?" Melissa's voice cut through his blaming despite the fact that he knew she wasn't talking to him, "hey, I need to get some supplies to help you. Can you let your dad hold you?"

Noah's heart broke a little when he saw Stiles shake his head "no" against Melissa's shoulder, not that he could even blame him; after all, he was supposed to keep him safe and he couldn't even do that. 'He hates you now.'

"Okay, I'll hold you, but that means your dad is gonna have to patch you up. Is that okay?" She waited until he nodded against her shoulder before she turned to Noah, her key in her hand, "in that drawer, there's gloves, band-aids, alcohol wipes, antibiotic ointment and snap and shake ice packs. Put them on this," she stopped to tap one of the small sterile metal tables with her foot, "after you wash your hands."

Noah nodded silently as he went over to the sink and washed his hands thoroughly, unable to focus on anything other then the broken sobs coming from his son. 'This is all your fault. You should have protected him.'

He walked over to the drawer and started pulling out the items before setting them on the small metal table before pulling the blue medical gloves over his hands and finally adjusting so that his hands were at the level of Stiles' face.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up." Melissa spoke softly as she maneuvered the boy so he was looking right into his father's eyes.

Noah's stomach dropped when he saw the harsh, red, puffy cuts that scarred Stiles' pale skin and the large purpling bruise around the left side of his nose; normally he could swallow back the most gruesome of crime scenes but this...this was his son who was usually unable to sit still and had eyes that shined with curiosity and mischief; the stillness in his body was chilling and his eyes seemed hollow.

He cleaned and bandaged his son's face as fast he could while also being gentle but he also couldn't bring himself to continue to look at his son's face with the knowledge that it had been his wife who had hurt him and it was himself that couldn't keep his son safe. The bandage job was sloppy as best but it was adequate enough that Melissa didn't tell him to do it again, so he snapped the small ice pack in half and shook it a few times before pressing it into his ten year old's hand, watching as he wordlessly pressed it against the bruise. The sobs had stopped now but now he was completely silent which was haunting to say the least.

"I'm so sorry, buddy." Noah finally managed to choke out in a whisper while keeping his own tears at bay.

But when his ten year old looked at him, holding an ice pack to a bruise and tear stains still making his face shiny, and said "it's okay, dad," that's when Noah's heart truly broke.