99 Tom's POV
This was wrong, this was all so damn wrong. I shouldn't... this wasn't... it was ridiculous to do this. To match clothes with a baby. Who did this? Who in their right minds thought that this was a good, fun idea? It was stupid, and incredibly infantile to try. Dressing my son in the shirt I was wearing, what was I thinking? That I wanted to be mocked and ridiculed, that I wanted to show that I wasn't mature enough to look after a child, that I wanted to prove that my son was mine, stake a claim on him? It was obvious he was mine, we looked too alike, I didn't need to do something as stupid as to dress us alike. I looked like a such an idiot now. Danny, Harry and Dougie probably couldn't wait for us to leave so they could start laughing at me and my stupid wish.
It truly was a stupid wish too, why had I ever thought it to be a good idea? Because I'd had it in my head for so long? Because I had dreamed about it several times? It was a pathetic wish, a stupid idea, nobody actually did this and thought it was a good plan. It wasn't cute, or sweet. It was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
As soon as Buzz was bathed and in his pyjamas, I felt better. We didn't match anymore, didn't look stupid. I looked like a normal adult again, and Buzz looked like a baby, like things should have been. I shouldn't have put him in a shirt anyway, he was a baby, what was I dressing him up for? I should have just dressed him normally, shouldn't have bothered with any of this.
I'd just... I'd thought it would be nice. I really had dreamt of this in the past, ever since my wife fell pregnant with Buzz. I had had this mental image of having a son, and of dressing him identically to me. It had all looked so sweet in my head, so... so family-like. I hadn't told anybody about it, not even my wife, in fear of being ridiculed. But I had still dreamed of it, dreamed of choosing an outfit for myself in the morning, and picking a matching one for my son, of people thinking that we were cute, that the father-son connection was for all to see.
The reality hadn't lived up to expectations at all. I could see now, it was all just a silly idea. A silly plan from a silly man, who didn't have the first clue on how to actually do anything sweet for his child. I should have done something different, something more productive, enjoyable, safe.
But I had thought that this was safe, that this was a safe option. I wasn't hurting anyone with an outfit, wasn't affecting anybody else's lives. It had felt safe! It had felt like it was something I could do for myself, without getting in anybody else's way, like I had with dinner! But it hadn't worked, I could feel the stares, feel the judgemental looks, almost hear my wife's laughter in my head.
"Pathetic Tom, absolutely pathetic!"
"Did you really think that this would be a good thing? That you wouldn't look like you're desperate to prove you're a father?"
"They're all laughing at you downstairs you know, they've been holding it in all day, they saw your mistake, they'll never let you live it down."
I was shaking with the sound of her voice, feeling it ringing in my head, her disapproval obvious, even though she wasn't here to see it, and didn't even know I had attempted it.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I whispered to the walls, desperate to make it stop, to make it go away! I wouldn't do it again, I swore I wouldn't do it again! I knew it was a mistake now, I knew not to try again, I didn't want the laughter, I had gone so long without the laughter, I couldn't hear it again now!
But it wouldn't go away, no matter what I tried to block it out, the noise of it continued to echo. Even Buzz seemed disapproving of me, getting extremely unsettled as I tried to read him a story.
"Hey, let me take over, you look exhausted." Danny interrupted, crouching in front of me with a kind smile.
"I-It's fine. I-I can do it." I could read my son a story, I could do this, I could really do this. I wasn't, I wasn't incapable of this, really, I could do one thing right today, I could, I really could.
"I know you can, but I don't think you're well, let me put him down tonight, get yourself some rest." Danny was saying it so kindly, I wanted desperately to give in, to lay under the covers and hide from the world, but I couldn't let my son down again. I couldn't keep on foisting him off on others.
"I'm supposed to be the one to tell him a story." I whispered, I did it every night, and I did it well. It was the one thing I was good at, the one thing I looked forward to every day. I couldn't fail at that too, not after this week, I needed a win, I really needed the win!