he can help me

Rhyme or Reason

((TW: possible mentions of familial abuse))

Eight years. Axel was under the impression Tom was dead. Buried. He was certain of it, though a part of him wasn't. He and Sarah had split following the attack, considering Axel's obsession and his 'tendency' to cheat. He was all by himself in his own home.
It was late. Or, technically, early. 3 am. Scrolling aimlessly through the internet, he was ripped from his mindless drowsiness by a knock at the door.
He pushed himself from his desk and quickly threw on a pair of pants, hastily hanging from his hips. Axel opened the door once he wobbled down the hall and nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Were you in the uh..." Tom Hanniger stood on Axel's porch, motioning to the sheriff's unbuttoned and sagging jeans, "Middle of something?"
"What the hell are you doing here?" Axel barely got the words out, terrified and astonished with a little mix of something else. "I killed you. You died in that mine."
"I what?"
"You're supposed to be fucking dead." Axel pulled Tom into his house, panicking over multiple things.
"Hey easy there, lone ranger."
"You're supposed to be fucking dead." Axel repeated himself, holding Tom against the wall by his collar.
"What's your problem?"
"What's my problem?" Axel let go of him and ran a hand through his hair. "What's my fucking problem..." He whispered, then looked back up at Tom. "My problem is that you fucking killed Megan. You killed Irene. You fucked up me and Sarah's relationship."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Tom added, under his breath, "I don't think I'm all that ruined your relationship, mister Sheriff."
"Do you not remember the last time you showed your face around here?"
"You're crying."
Axel hadn't noticed that he was, in fact, crying. He let go of Tom and wiped his eyes, turning his back to the other man. "Why are you here?"
"I, uh," Tom paused, pushing his hands into his pockets, "I think we both need each other more than we'd like to admit."
"What the hell are you saying Hanniger?"
"I'm saying that I'm a fucked up person. You're a fucked up person. Fucked up people have to stick together."
"Get out of my house." Axel tightened his fists and turned to Tom, who had stepped closer to him.
"Did you forget about the whole cops on my ass thing?" Tom had gotten older, of course, and with that age came a newly developed sense of sarcasm and arrogance.
Axel paused and tightened his fist again, mumbling through closed teeth. "Fine. One night. You sleep on the couch and you're out by noon tomorrow or I'm taking you to the station and they'll fry your ass."
"Sounds good." Tom nodded, though he thought for a moment. Did it sound good? Would he be able to be out of there by noon? The edge of that last comment bore into his brain, though his aorta tugged at this esophagus and he knew that wasn't possible.

Axel was an easy drunk. Just a few shots and the man was buzzed enough to slur when he talked to Tom. He didnt know where he got the alcohol or why, though a small part of both Tom and Axel were thankful he had.
"My dad was an alcoholic." Axel slowly layed his head down on his arms, staring over at Tom. "He'd come home, grab a beer, get drunk, hit my mom," Axel laughed, though it sounded more like a tiny sob. Tom immediately feared Axel would cry again. "He wouldn't let her leave the house so she couldn't work, and the little money he made wasn't enough. My mom got sick. Fuckin..." Shot. "Brain Tumor. Doctor gave her a year on a good day. She didn't make it that long." Axel tried to smile, mostly to keep himself from crying again, and stared down at his glass.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I need someone to understand. You were right, Hanniger. We're both pretty fucked up. You wanna know what he said to me, the day she died? He said it was my fault. That's how it was. I took the place of my dead mother." Axel was crying now, running his hands through his hair.
"I'm sorry, Axel..."
"No!" Axel slapped his palms back onto the table, and stared Tom in the eyes. "I'm so fucked up from it. I can't even fucking function. I hurt everyone I love just because thats what he did to me. What he did to my mom." Axel was stabbing his index into the table with each word, his chest and back expanding and contracting rapidly in unison with his breath.
It was killing Tom to see Axel like this. He wanted to hold him, kiss him, and tell him everything was okay. He couldn't. Axel wouldn't let him.
That wouldn't stop him from trying, though.
Tom slowly slid his hands over to Axel's, taking the man's trembling hands between his own, rubbing gentle circles in the top of Axel's hands. He brought one of Axel's hands up to his lips and slowly, gently started placing kisses on his fingers and the top of his hand.
Axel had stopped crying and just stared at Tom, speechless. His face was red, from a combination of alcohol, crying, and now the resurfacing of old, repressed feelings. Axel got antsy, his hands being too little and unsatisfying. He wanted Tom to kiss him.
His prayers were answered. After Tom kissed both of the other man's hands, he slowly pulled Axel towards him. This was agony for Axel. The experience was so slow it hurt, he needed Tom. Finally, Axel thanked the gods, as Tom finally kissed him. It was long, and painful, because the two men were practically breaking their necks trying to kiss each other. Axel, for the first time, was happy. His Father's-Son side screamed at him, that it was wrong, that he shouldn't be kissing boys or he was damned to burn agonizingly in Hell, for being a little faggot. He paid no attention, and just soaked up the experience as much as possible. Tom pulled away, moving his hands up to rub Axel's face. Axel responded by pressing against his hands gently, like a cat.
"Why'd you, uh..." Axel paused, eyes heavy, "...Stop?"
"My neck started hurting." Tom smiled at Axel, which brough tears to his eyes. He was just... so beautiful. Tom frowned, noticing this. "Are you alright?"
Axel nodded, sniffing. "Drowsy."
"Let's get you to bed then." Tom rose, Axel protesting immediately.
"No. No." Axel shook his head. He stood and wobbled hastily over to Tom, sitting hinself on his lap. Now Tom was the red one. Axel feverishly placed kisses all over Tom's face, running hands through his hair.
"Someone's a little needy," Tom joked, secretly loving every moment the officer touched him.
Axel just mumbled in reply, kissing the other's lips to shut him up.
"Mm," Tom pulled away, looking up at Axel. "I think its time for you to go to bed. You might... regret this in the morning."
Axel frowned, and slowly slid off of Tom. He yawned and realized how tired her really was. He was very put off by that last comment. Why would Axel reget what he was doing? He enjoyed it now, why would he not enjoy it later? "Fine," Axel frowned, visibly upset. Tom stood and took Axel's hand quietly. "Where's your room?"
Axel paused, trying to recall. He brain was clouded with alcohol and the hard drug called Tom Hanniger. "Down the hall. Second door."
Tom walked him to his room, pushing the door open. The room was neat, aside from papers covering all the desks. Axel, exhausted, let go of Tom's hand and got into bed almost immediately after Tom opened the door. Tom watched him silently, and once he turned to head towards the living room, Axel stopped him.
"Tom?"
Tom looked at Axel, speaking quietly. "What is it?"
"Can you... um..." Axel was red again, "sleep... here?"
Tom paused, weighing the outcomes of the situation. Wake up next to a pissed Axel Palmer, wake up next to a lovely Axel Palmer, or wake up next to a hungover Axel Palmer. He weighed the trio of Axel Palmers and decided it was a risk he was willing to take. Tom nodded, and closed the door behind him. He took off his jacket on the way to the bed, laying it on a dresser. He slowly slid in next to Axel, once doing so caused Axel to curl up next to him. It was insane; Axel had fallen asleep immediately. Tom thought for a moment before closing his eyes himself.
For the first time in a while, both men slept well.