Sheriff Stilinski placed his hands in his palms, waiting for some sort of news about his son's wellbeing. More importantly, his apparent frontaltemporal dementia that he had developed because of the fox spirit that took over his body, and if it was even real or not.

After Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Maila defeated the nogistune, Stiles had fallen unconscious, and had been rushed to the ER with a concussion of unknown status and a rising fever.

That had been three hours ago, and despite being a Sheriff for years now, Noah was on his last nerve, and doing everything humanly possible to stay calm.

This whole werewolf thing was very hard to understand, but he knew it was only gonna get harder, even if he had only just started to kinda pick up on it when his own son was possessed.

Then he heard the door of the waiting area door open, to see a older doctor who was completely bald as well as skinny, wearing green scrubs.

"Stilinski?" He asked, looking up from the clipboard in his hand, to which Noah stood up, walking over to the doctor while slightly still freaked out about his son, was glad he was finally getting something. "My name is Dr. Christensen. I was placed in charge of your son's tests."

"How is he?"

The doctor smiled warmly, looking down at his clipboard for a couple seconds, before meeting back with the concerned father's eyesight.

"He'll be just fine. The fever will most likely linger around for a couple days, and the concussion should be gone within two weeks. Something that is very strange is that I was told he was diagnosed with frontaltemprol dementia. Is that correct?" The man questioned curiously.

"That is correct."

"Well, from your family history, you know that it's terminal as soon as you get the diagnosis, but in the case of your son-"

"Stiles. Everyone calls him Stiles." Noah interrupted

"In Stiles' case, it seems to have completely vanished, which is unheard of in the medical field. I'm the lead psychologist at my facility in Alaska, and we study neurological science every day, which had lead to huge advancements in the medical field, and I'd like to bring Stiles in to do longer and further tests."

"How long will he be kept there?" Noah questioned, getting a surprisingly normal vibe from him, but just wanting to finish so he could see his son.

"The longest we keep someone is for five years, and then you get them back."

"Can I think about it?" The Sheriff questioned, and the doctor nodded, handing him a business card with his number on it.

"Call me when you make come to a conclusion, and your son is now in room 211."

"Thank you, Dr. Christensen."

"You're welcome, Sheriff." The doctor smiled, before leaving the father to reunite with his son.