In which your child tells Ashton that they hate him.
The kitchen was full of the sounds of your two year old son Jacob wailing, and Ashton's desperate attempts to calm him down. What started the tantrum was beyond you...a muddy trail dragged through the house, a broken drumstick, spilt food, exhaustion, hungriness...you had no idea. Your son's bedtime is drawing closer, and as you hurry into the kitchen you hear your two year old shriek will all the aggression he can muster:
"I hate you, Dada!"
"Come on, Jake, please..."
"I hate you, Dada! You're a bad dad and you are always leaving!"
You walk in just in time to see Ashton's face fall. His lips press into a hard line. Scooping up a wailing Jake, you turn just in time to see Ashton disappear toward your bedroom.
"Jakey, that wasn't a very nice thing to say!"
"I don't care!"
His tearstained face is pressed into a determined frown, but at least the screaming has stopped.
//
The door to your bedroom is ajar, and you can see Ashton sitting hunched over on his side of the bed.
"Hey, love"
He raises his head to look at you, his eyes rimmed with red.
"He said he hated me"
"Come on, Ash, you know he didn't mean that"
You sink down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
"He said I'm a bad dad, and he's right. I'm a shit father, Y/N"
"Ash, please..."
"He's right, I'm gone all the time. I mean what kind of father leaves his son for months on end?"
"A father with a job that requires it...come on baby, please don't let this get to you"
"He's only two and I'm already letting him down. I just...I just wanted to be better than my father and I'm already failing"
A singular tear runs down his cheek.
"How did I go so wrong, Y/N?"
"Oh, Ash..."
"I leave, over and over again. Even before he was born, I was already the absentee father, I was gone for half your pregnancy, dammit, and now I'm leaving again, over and over, and he needs me and you need me and-and sometimes I think he'd just be better off without me"
"You know that's not true, my love"
"Is it? I'm already making him suffer at age two! Think of what I'm going to put him through at age 4, and 10, and 15? He already hates me now, how much-how much will he hate me when he gets older"
You don't know what to say. You had no idea he felt this way, no idea these thoughts were clawing away at his insides and making rounds in his head. Now, as he shakes under your arm and tries desperately to stem the flow of tears, you wish you could have known sooner.
"I don't want to let him down, but...I'm scared I already have."
//THIS IS UNFINISHED
