Chapter Text
It wasn’t always this way.
They were once what one would call a perfect family. A wife, a husband and their cheeky little boy. Then things started to go down hill. It started with little things- misplacing stuff, sudden mood changes, forgetting to pick up the groceries- then it got slightly worse- fits of rage, forgetting their five year old at the park, stammering over sentences. Until he decided enough was enough, he took his wife to the doctors, despite her protests that she was fine, and they waited in the room for the results.
“I told you I’m fine Noah,” Claudia sighed for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour. He just looked at her with a raised disbelieving brow and she leant back in the chair with her arms crossed over her chest. He knew he shouldn’t be so short tempered with her. His wife hated being seen as weak and he knew she didn’t mean any of the stuff she did but he was still mad at her after last night when he came home to find her with her hand raised about to strike a crying Stiles across the face. She’d apologised profoundly after she snapped out of whatever daze she’d been in but that didn’t take away the fear and betrayal their son felt after she’d spent an hour purely screaming and cursing at him for what, Noah doesn’t know. Something wasn’t right with his wife, she rarely ever raised her voice at their son, despite his antics, let alone screamed at him.
“It’s just a check up, you haven’t been yourself lately and there’s no harm in making sure everything’s okay.” He said, because she had to be okay. Not just for him, but for Stiles. He needed his mother back. They stay in silence for a while, Noah holding Claudia’s hand in comfort until Melissa came in with a clip board in hand. He was glad it was her, and by the look on his wife’s face she was too. That was until they saw the forlorn expression on her face. “Mel? Everything okay?” Claudia asked gently, almost as if she was unsure wether or not she wanted to hear the answer. The nurse looked up at them then, clearing her throat and trying to gather the professionalism that was usually always there when she was dealing with patients but these were her friends, it was little Stiles’ mother.
“I-” I what? What should I say to them? “I’m sorry Claudia but…”
“But what?” She said it in such a calm yet stern voice as if whatever the news was it wouldn’t effect her in the slightest, and Noah just wished he could be as strong as his wife as he was sweating out his eyeballs right about now.
“The notes here say that you have been diagnosed with frontotemporal dementia. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh my god.” Noah gasped out, burying his face in his hands just as his wife looked between the two of them in disbelief with a nervous smile and an anxious chuckle as if she didn’t quite believe this was real, she couldn’t believe this was real.
“But I… I’m sorry...I… are you serious?” She asked, because no, she couldn’t have dementia, she was meant to come here, just to hear that nothing was wrong before telling her husband ‘I told you so’ and ‘you worry too much’ before taking her two boy’s out for ice cream to try make it up to her little Mischief who’d already said he’s forgiven her when she apologised, but that didn’t stop the guilt she felt whenever he went quiet around her or acted more subdued.
“I’m so sorry Claud.” Melissa just whispered trying to hide the pain she felt as she watched her two friend’s worlds crumble around them.
“But I’m only twenty nine, I’m-” she trailed off, trying to think of reasons why this couldn’t be true.
“It can happen at any age.” Melissa said sadly, and yes, of course she knew that but… not to her.
“Is there a cure?” Noah asked even though he knew what she would say, there’s no cure for dementia, but he just needed to hear it for himself.
“No- no cure, the most we can do is slow it down.”
They talked about the symptoms and treatments she’d have to take and Noah cursed himself for not seeing this sooner. All the signs were there he should’ve known. Melissa left them alone after prescribing her some tablets, to let them come to grips with the news before they had to go out to the play area to collect their son. They found him playing some made up game with Scott and talking about his plans for his upcoming sixth birthday, a birthday that was now all the more precious to Claudia now she knew that it might be one of the last ones she’ll get to properly celebrate with their son.
They picked him up and took him to the park, they went for a walk in the woods and the childish naivety he had to the situation made them share a melancholy smile, but alas, their boy was too smart to not notice the tense atmosphere so they finally decided to break the news to him. Mommy was poorly and might be a little different from now on but she’s still the same old mommy, and yes she’d still make him and Scotty cookies when he stayed over, and yes she still loved him one thousand. He placed a ‘magic kiss’ to her forehead and put a daisy behind her ear but it would take a lot more then just a kiss to make her better this time.
“Noah.” She whispered in his ear as they lay in bed that night, both staring at the ceiling, their thoughts too fast to go to sleep.
“Hmm?”
“Do you promise you’ll never leave me?” She asked, voice timid and gosh he’d never heard her sound so… small. “No, never, of course not.” He said, sounding appalled at the mere idea as he turned to face her in the dark, he stroked her hair back as she lay her head on his chest. “In sickness and in health, right sweetheart?” He said. She hummed in response and for a moment he thought that to be the end of the conversation until he heard her let out a barely controlled sob. “But you’ll look after him? Won’t you Noah? And you’ll look after yourself?” She asked him, desperate to hear confirmation that her boys would be okay.
“Of course darling,” he choked, tears forming in his eyes, but he knew he was lying. If she died he didn’t know what he’d do with himself, didn’t know how he could be there for his son, be strong for him without her by his side. But he’d damn well try, for her, and for Stiles.
~~~~~
The decline in her health was gradual. Some days she was fine, everything normal but the days where she wasn’t just got worse every time. She took tablets to control the anger, it usually left her an emotionless shell of her former self but Noah convinced himself it was for the best after he missed one of her phone calls one day and she took out her annoyance on Stiles. He came home that night to find his son locked in the cold back garden with a fresh bruise on his cheek, and his wife fast asleep upstairs, having completely forgotten what she’d done with her son and oblivious to the fact that it was winter and the six year old only had his thin pyjamas on.
She spent the next week at the boy’s bedside, nursing him back to health after he developed a pretty terrible cold. Stiles immediately forgave her and apologised for the mess he’d made and all Noah could think was- that was what this was about? A broken glass? Noah knew this couldn’t be helped, no matter what he could’ve done Claudia still would have her moments and it wasn’t his fault. But some part of him still blamed himself. If I had just answered that call, if I hadn’t gone to work that day, then she wouldn’t have gotten so mad.
He usually took Stiles to work with him after that. It wasn’t fair to the boy, to have to sit in an office after school everyday or to have to fall asleep in a cop car every night when Noah was working the night shift. But he couldn’t think of what else to do, as horrible as it sounded he just didn’t trust Claudia with their son anymore. For some reason Stiles always seemed to get the brunt of her anger, the doctor said it was because she hadn’t known him as long so she was more likely to forget him. That statement had his wife in tears as she couldn’t bare the thought of doing that to her son.
That was one of the first nights she tried to take her own life and the first night Noah felt a bit of his hope flicker out.
~~~~~
He’d promised her he’d never leave her, but now he had no choice but to hand her over to someone else’s care. It started when he got a call. There was a massive house fire and he was called in to investigate it and see if it was deliberate or not. It was the Hales’ house, his wife was friends with Talia Hale and he felt his heart leap into his throat at the thought of something happening to the woman he’d become well acquainted with over the past few years. He got the call right as schools were being let out, giving him no time to pick up his son and even so he didn’t want the now seven year old to see the mess the house was sure to be in. After deliberation he decided it would be best to let his wife pick up their son. She’d been doing well recently, and he really didn’t want to keep hiding Stiles away from her, after all who knew how much time they had left…
He text her every five minutes to make sure she remembered to lock the door, to check she picked up Stiles, to make sure they got home safe and he hated himself for how worried he was. He hated this whole situation, even after two years of getting use to it.
It was a horrible fire. Only one person made it out and the worst part was when a car pulled up outside and two teenagers he recognised as Talia’s two kids clambered out, racing over to the house just to be physically held back by firefighters from running into the wreck of their home. Noah could’ve sworn he saw the boy’s eyes glow a fabulous blue as he pushed and shoved his way out of the men’s grips just to fall to the floor and stare into the flames in remorse.
It was a long day, and after that he had to go back to the office and he got lost in paperwork. He felt something was wrong deep in his gut, but he played it off as stress for the poor teens who’d had their entire lives turned upside down today. He wished he’d listened to his gut. It wasn’t until nine pm that night that he got the phone call that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
“D-Daddy?” And that alone set off warning bells in his head; Stiles rarely ever called him that anymore.
“Stiles? Stiles are you okay son?” He asked, already grabbing his stuff and getting out the keys to his car.
“Daddy it’s a 217, daddy it hurts.” Noah just froze because surely he heard that wrong. Stiles was good at police coding after spending so much time in the car with his dad but that couldn’t be right. 217… assault with attempt to murder. He immediately sprinted down the halls and jumped in his car, still hearing his son’s cries from the phone in his hands. He put the keys in the ignition and turned on the siren, beginning to drive, but first he put the phone between his neck and ear to try make sense of the indistinguishable sobs.
“Stiles, Stiles listen to me baby. It’s gonna be okay, daddy’s coming, I’m gonna be there soon, it’s going to be okay.” The boy quietened a bit at that but was still gasping and hiccuping down the phone, trying to catch a breath but failing miserably.
“It hurts daddy, th-there’s blood everywhere.” That just had the deputy pushing his foot harder on the gas and speeding through a red light. “What hurts? Stiles can you tell me what happened?”
“A-a 219 and a 242.” He cried and once again Noah wished his son didn’t want to be a police officer ‘like his daddy’ because it would be a whole lot easier if he would just say what happened instead of using coding Noah couldn’t be sure was right. God he hoped it wasn’t right. 219 and a 242- cutting or stabbing and a battery.
“Stiles? Are you saying you were stabbed? D-did mommy hurt you?” Because if he was stabbed who else could’ve done it? If someone had broken into the house he knew Stiles would’ve told him straight away. Yet he still dreaded the answer.
“Uh huh.” He confirmed, and Noah screwed his eyes shut for a second before pressing the button in the patrol car that automatically called for an ambulance. He told them the address to his house and then sped up, desperate to get to his son and make sure he’s okay. Suddenly he heard screaming down the phone and the sound of his wife yelling. His heart pounded faster when he heard his son begging to be let go.
“Claudia! Claudia what are you doing? Stop it.” He said, trying to keep calm so as to not scare his son anymore or anger his wife.
“Daddy! Daddy come quick! Please.” He yelled in terror.
“I’m coming.”
The voice of his wife took over the phone and he was quick to try calm her, to snap her out of it because it was only this morning when she was talking about how much she loved their boy. And if he was stabbed he needed help, right now.
“I had no choice Noah, you- you didn’t see the way he looked at me.”
“Claudia please, that’s our son you’re hurting, that’s your little Mischief. Remember?”
“He shouldn’t be here. Why is he here!?” Her yelling had reached a new volume and he could hear his son whimpering in the background. I’m coming baby, just hold on a little bit longer. The line went quiet all of a sudden, it sounded like she’d dropped the phone and walked off. He heard shuffling for a second before the sound of his son’s unsteady breathing filled the phone once again.
“Stiles, are you okay? Where did she go?”
“Upstairs,” He sobbed and Noah just let out a breath of relief, “I’m hiding.” He said, and he didn’t know why that sentence hit him so hard but it did. His son was hiding from his own mother. “Where are you?”
“I’m nearly there kid just hold on, don’t hang up.”
“I’m tired.”
“No!” He yelled in blind panic, cursing himself when he heard his boy whine in fear at the shout. “Don’t go to sleep, just… stay talking to me, keep talking to daddy.” And he couldn’t believe he was having to tell his kid, his Stiles, to not go to sleep and to talk.
It took him longer then he would’ve preferred to arrive at the house, and he didn’t even park the car before jumping out and running to the door. It was unlocked. He saw small bloody handprints on the wall, some smashed glass on the floor and the entire bookcase shoved over onto its side.
“Stiles?” He called out into the now too quiet house. He had his hand on his gun but he didn’t know why, he doubted he’d be able to shoot Claudia if it came down to it.
“Daddy?” It was so quiet he almost missed it, he went into the kitchen and took in the bloody puddle on the floor and the streams of it on the cupboards as if someone had been clawing at them to get up. Noah gulped because that was a lot of blood. He looked around but couldn’t see his son anywhere, that was until one of the cupboard doors moved slightly and he pulled it open to see the boy huddled up in there, painted red. He gently pulled him out and rested the boy on the floor with his head on the man’s lap. He choked when he saw the state he was in. He’d been stabbed on the left side of his stomach and had a lot of scrapes all over his body along with hand shaped bruises. His small chest was rising and falling quickly as he gasped in breath. Noah lent forward and grabbed the kitchen cloth to hold to the wound. His son just looked up at him through heavy eye lids.
He leant down to swipe some of the boy’s messy hair out of his face and to press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay now Stiles, I’m here now and it’s going to be okay.” They stayed that way, Noah running his hand through the child’s damp hair and whispering reassurances, until they finally heard the loud shrill of ambulance sirens.
His wife didn’t come downstairs once while they waited. He’d later find out the reason she’d had such a big break down was because she’d forgotten to take her tablets. He’d also find out that she didn’t come downstairs because she’d tried to kill herself again. That was when he broke the promise he’d made her all those nights ago, he couldn’t stay with her. It wasn’t safe for her or their son. He couldn’t look after her. That was the week his wife went into hospital care.