87 Danny's POV
After Tom's therapy session, he did what he usually did, which was go straight back to his housework, starting with tidying up. He had such a routine down, it was almost planned to the second, so we all knew exactly where he was at any one time. I couldn't tell if that was reassuring, or slightly eerie, to be able to look at the clock and know exactly which room Tom was in, and exactly what he was doing.
Currently, he was cooking dinner in the kitchen, and strangely, he hadn't actually asked us what we wanted. Usually, he came in and asked if his meal plan was alright with us, or at least what we wanted. Today though, he hadn't. Tom had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago, and hadn't come back out again. I could smell a bolognaise cooking, which was absolutely fine, but it was odd to know that he had broke pattern and not asked anything first.
"Natasha did say he's got to gain back control. Maybe he's doing that now, by deciding what we're all eating and not asking first." Harry suggested, smiling as Dougie 'attacked' Buzz with his new triceratops toy, from the museum. Buzz squealed with delight, giggling in the most adorable way. It reminded me of Tom, when he was younger, when he had laughing fits like that. I couldn't even remember the last time he had laughed.
"Yeah, that's probably it." I wanted to believe that, and nothing worse was going on, but it was hard not to worry sometimes. Tom worried me constantly, no matter what he was doing.
"It's what I did, when I needed to gain control back. Dinner is a good place to start, because the worst you can do is make something that your house mates don't fancy that day." Dougie reassured with a smile. Well, I guessed if any of us knew anything about regaining your personality, and your right to choose what you wanted in life, it was Dougie. Though he had been in a bit of a different situation, he had been fighting himself, instead of years of ingrained abuse thanks to the person you were married to. Still though, if one of us had any idea of what was going on in Tom's head, it would be Dougie, I was more than happy to let him be the voice of reason.
"You made cake." Harry smiled, "Because you wanted something sweet."
"And because it didn't need to be eaten immediately, it could be enjoyed later if needs be." Dougie shrugged, "Tom's more practical than me though, he'll start with dinner. Or possibly lunch, or breakfast. A main meal at the least."
None of us mentioned the fact that Tom wasn't exactly good with food control, and had past experience of having issues with meals. Though, was it relevant? Possibly. But really, he was only preparing a meal, it wasn't like he was skipping any. It was fine, at least for now...
Not twenty minutes later, the door opening, Tom barely popping his head out from behind the door, filled with apprehension.
"I, I made spaghetti bolognaise." Tom started, good start, very good start actually, "I-If that's okay."
"Sounds good to me!" I smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.
"Yeah, sounds great, need any help dishing up?" Harry asked, standing.
"Oh, no, no, I've already... it's all done." Tom shook his head, fidgeting, "It's on the table, so whenever you're ready to eat it, it's there." He picked Buzz up, who had run to him as he'd walked through the door.
"Lead the way." I wished he didn't look like we were about to kill him for deciding this, like he was literally bracing himself to be shouting at and abused for his choice. It was dinner, it didn't matter in the long run. Whatever Tom wanted, was good enough for us, just as everything he did was. He was perfect the way he was, and if he misjudged something, then it was a mistake, one that could be moved on from easily enough. A decision shouldn't have caused this much fear, never, ever this much fear. Especially over something so small.