69 Harry's POV
"Dada?" Buzz asked us again, clutching at his little ukulele with wide, teary eyes. He'd been asking for Tom for the last half hour, and while it was unlikely Danny was going to get Tom to come in a play, we had to at least try. I couldn't deny this little boy anything, he'd gone through enough as it was, and he wanted his dad.
His dad, who at the moment was a bit AWOL, despite the fact that he was still in the house. The realisation that he had abused had hit him hard, something I couldn't blame him for. But at the same time, it hurt to see him look so lost and scared, to deny Buzz time with his dad, because his dad currently couldn't do anything right now. Or at least, he wasn't with it enough to play with his son.
"Danny's just got to get him kiddo, he'll be here soon." I really hoped I wasn't lying, really, really hoped I wasn't lying.
That's when Tom's shouts rang through the house, before the sound of a man bursting into tears echoed through. Shit. That wasn't good.
"Dada?" Buzz called again, heading off in the direction of the cries. But he couldn't see this, he couldn't see his dad crying, and having whatever reaction he was having! He'd seen and heard enough as it was. And who knew how much he understood of what was going on? He was a baby, but he wasn't stupid, or incapable of understanding at the very least that his dad wasn't okay.
"Stay here with Buzz, I'll go see what's going on." I picked Buzz up, placing him in Dougie's arms, racing out to the kitchen.
What I found was Tom on the floor, curled in Danny's arms, sobbing into his chest. Danny was holding onto him, trying desperately to calm him, but not doing anything to help, instead looking more and more distressed by the second.
"I didn't, I didn't mean to. I was just trying to help, I'm sorry." Danny was saying, rubbing Tom's back, his other hand cradling Tom's head.
"What happened?" I bent down, trying to help comfort our crying friend, but not getting very far myself. Tom was crying so hard, and looked so upset, as upset as he had been when he'd packed Buzz up, expecting him to be taken away.
"I, I don't know. We were just talking, and he started crying." Danny answered, looking at me for guidance, like I knew what I was doing. But I didn't know! I didn't know what was going on anymore than he did! I didn't have a clue on what to do! I'd never dealt with this before!
Did we let him cry it out? Or try to get him to calm down and talk about it? I didn't know!
"Alright, alright," what did we do? What did we do?! "Tom, hey, what's up? What's happened?" I tried asking, trying my best to sound comforting and open to whatever Tom was experiencing, but Tom didn't reply. He just continued to sob, face crumpled with misery, entire body shaking, hands refusing to let go of Danny's t-shirt.
And he sobbed for so long, longer than I thought anybody could. He cried and cried until he cried himself out, literally passed out from crying so much. Even unconscious, he looked broken.
Carefully, I picked him up, carrying him upstairs to his room and tucking him into a bed that didn't look at all slept in, hoping he could at the least get some rest up here. As for what we were going to do, I had no idea. What had even caused that? Delayed reaction to the revelation? A build up of emotions from the last few weeks? Something else entirely? Who knew? Who knew and who knew what to do about it now? Not even Dougie had any ideas, and he was the one who had been in a slightly similar boat a few years ago!
"We need to phone Natasha." It was the only answer I had, maybe she could help. She was a psychiatrist after all, one who knew what she was doing, and knew Tom well at this point. It annoyed me that we didn't know what to do, but we weren't trained in psychology, we knew Tom as a person, we didn't know how his brain processed things like this, especially after everything his wife had said to him.