42 Harry's POV
Giving Tom time to decide that he could ask for help felt right, but at the same time so wrong. I wanted to step in, to control what was going on with him, push him in the right direction. But I couldn't, it wasn't allowed to start with, let alone anything else. Tom had to learn that it was okay to come to us again, that we were allowed to help him when he needed it. We had to let him learn by himself, let the therapy help him in ways we couldn't, it was just so hard.
I had to remind myself that I'd had to do the same thing with Dougie in the past. I'd had to learn that I could not help him by myself, that the professionals could help him, all I could do was support. One of the hardest things I had ever done was let him go into rehab for a month, to fully accept that I could not help solve his problems by myself, like I had done in the past. It had taken me weeks to get used to it, and had left me second guessing so many things after he had gone into out-patient therapy.
But, at least Dougie had spoken to me, had let me drive him to his therapist several times, had mentioned what was going on in passing, had cuddled up to me after a tough session. He didn't talk in detail about what happened inside, but he'd kept close, had wanted me close. Tom on the other hand didn't seem to want any of that. He seemed determined to do it completely by himself. Understandable, with his behaviour as of late, but could it be partly his wife's fault, after she had pulled him away from us so much?
I didn't know anymore, and I resolved to talk to Tom at some point this week, see if I could get anything out of him, about anything, at all.
The opportunity presented itself two days later, while Danny, Dougie and Buzz were playing some sort of hide and seek game around the front room. Tom was sitting in the extension with the door open, watching the scene unfold from afar. He may have been starting to join in with his son, but only when there were toys present, if it was a game like this one, he only watched.
"Hey, alright?" I slid to sit next to him, putting my feet up on another chair in an attempt to look casual.
"Yes... Are, are you?" Tom looked deeply concerned that he hadn't said the right thing.
"Can't complain, been a bit tired, but nothing serious." I shrugged, "Sounded like Buzz slept pretty well last night though." Always a good place to start a conversation. Wasn't directly about Tom, but gave me an opening to explore.
"He nearly did, he woke up once, because of his teeth, but he's getting better." Tom answered, eyes always on his son, who was laughing loudly as he ran around a chair.
"Yeah, I heard it gets better with time. They don't get used to it as such, but some teeth hurt less than others." I nodded along, like I knew anything about children and teething, further from what I'd heard from my sister when her kids were going through the same thing.
"He's nearly got all of them now." Tom commented, looking at him side on, I could see the dark bags under his eyes. I hadn't noticed them much before, probably thanks to his glasses, but he definitely had some very deep bags, like he hadn't been sleeping much at all.
"That's good, means you'll hopefully get some proper night's sleep again... how are you holding up by the way?" I held in a wince at the bluntness of the question.
"I'm... not bad, everything is still getting done, a-and I'm working hard, with Natasha. I, I'm getting better." Tom got cagey, stuttering over his words.
"Glad to hear it, but I meant in yourself. How are you feeling?" I reached out, placing a hopefully calming hand on his. It had worked with Dougie, he'd found touch grounding most of the time.
"Fine, just fine." Tom rushed to say, "I have to get lunch now." he rushed off, leaving me wondering why that had worried him so much.