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When you slide on the Dateviators and aim them at your hangers, you expect the typical, infectiously high energy of the Hanks, but you're met with silence. It's possible they aren't here right now, and they're on an adventure? It's happened before, you wouldn't be surprised if it's happened again. You look around your room and poke your head out into the hallway, listening for their shouting and laughter somewhere in the house, but there's no sign of any of them.
"Hanks?" you call out.
Silence.
"Babes?"
There's nothing for a moment, but just as you're about to call out again, you hear a soft, forlorn sigh from inside the closet. Instantly knowing something is wrong, you walk back over and peer inside, sliding the door further open and revealing their apartment inside.
The Hanks are all in their pyjamas and laying in a circle, heads resting against each other in the centre, holding hands. They all wear the same sombre expression, the light in their eyes dimmed as they stare blankly at the ceiling. You never thought you'd ever see any of them look so despondent, but you can see how heavily the feeling is pressing on them all.
Without looking over, Hank 1 raises his hand in a slight wave, pulling Hank 3's hand up with it. "Hey, house homie…" he mumbles weakly. Everyone raises their joined hands and hums in greeting before letting their arms fall limp and drop back to the ground with a single collective thud.
You're not sure if you should stay or go. The helper in you screams at you to stay, grabbing onto your ribs to try and shake you and push you forward, but another part of you tells you that they need their space and to leave them be. As always, the need to help wins, and you slowly step forward, hand on the door frame. "Are you okay, loves…?" you ask them softly. You know it's a redundant question — they obviously aren't — but you need to hear it from them, whatever they're willing to share with you.
You don't get a verbal response, just Hank 5 sighing and closing his eyes, adjusting his hold on the hands of Hanks 2 and 3.
You soften your voice further. "Should I come back another ti–?"
You cut yourself off when they all jolt slightly and Hank 4 shoots upright, looking at you with wide, shining eyes. "Please stay," he whispers, like he can't bring himself to speak any louder. The group immediately adjusts to make room for you between him and Hank 2.
You look around at everyone. "Are you– Are you sure?"
"Please," Hank 4 whimpers, tears welling in his eyes. The others finally look over at you, the same shine of unshed tears in their eyes. Your heart clutches at the sight.
You relent with a slight nod and walk over, settling in between the two and offering your hands for them. They're quick to take your hands into their own — Hank 2 holding your right hand gently but firmly, Hank 4 holding your left hand tightly, like you might disappear if he loosens his grip. You adjust your body a little and let yourself lay comfortably, feeling the tops of their heads bump against yours. You entwine your fingers with Hank 4, and lightly run your thumb over Hank 2's knuckles.
You want to ask them what's wrong, what has them so down, but you don't want to push them to speak before they're ready, so you keep your mouth closed and stare up at the ceiling in the ensuing silence. There are small glow-in-the-dark stars put up all over the ceiling and lining the top of the walls, placed randomly and without pattern. You can't help but smile a little at that — you didn't think the Hanks would be the type to put up cute stuff like this in their space.
Your smile is quick to fade, however, when you hear a deep breath and the hushed voice of Hank 5 above you. "Today marks three years since we lost Hank 6…"
Your heart sinks. No wonder they aren't their usual selves today…
Hank 4 squeezes your hand tighter, and you're sure he's doing the same with Hank 1's hand on his other side. "Oh, guys, I'm so sorry…" you breathe, your brows pinching together.
"Nothing you coulda done about it, homie…" you hear Hank 2 mumble.
"We're just missin' him…" Hank 3 whispers.
"Big time…"
You all sit with that for a bit. You've heard very little about Hank 6, and even less about Hanks 7 and 8. You only know that he was part of the group, and was lost after a jump gone wrong. You've been curious about the incident, but you don't want to make them relive that experience if they don't need or want to. Besides, it's not your place to ask if they don't want to tell you.
You hear someone clear their throat, and you turn your head slightly toward them, on your left, to see who it was. Hank 4's eyes are flicking back and forth across the ceiling, looking at the stars littered across it. Beside him, you can't see Hank 1 very well, but you see his brows are furrowed in thought.
"Have you…" Hank 1 starts. You can hear him trying to keep the deep emotion from his voice, to appear stronger than he feels. "Have you ever lost someone close before, house homie?"
You nod slightly, even though you know he can't see you. "I have," you tell him. "Yeah, uh, my auntie." He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes over Hank 4's mess of blond curls. There's a question in his eyes, asking if you can tell them more. You nod, and you both look back up at the ceiling. "She died almost four years ago. She was… She was really sick, for about eight years." You start to feel your body deflate as you think back about her. "She lived longer than anyone expected her to, including the doctors that were in charge of her treatment, but by the end, she could barely move on her own." You sigh. "It hurts still, sometimes, but I know she isn't in pain anymore, wherever she is now."
"Up in hanger heaven?" Hank 3 asks quietly.
You huff a small laugh at that, barely audible. "No, probably human heaven."
"Right, right, that makes sense…" You hum another light laugh.
"How do you deal with the hurt…?" Hank 5 asks you softly. Hank 4 perks up beside you at the question but stays silent.
You tilt your head to the other side now to try and see him past Hank 2. His eyes meet yours, dulled by sorrow, but you see hope in there somewhere. "It can be really hard sometimes, I won't lie," you say, "but something I do is try to remember my favourite moments with her."
There are small, thoughtful hums around the group, almost in unison. Hank 2 adjusts his hold on your hand, entwining your fingers together and squeezing lightly. You squeeze back as you look around you, trying to see the others from where you all lay on the ground.
"Do you want to try that together?" you ask them. "Everyone can share their favourite Hank 6 memories — try and, I dunno…" You raise your hands in a shrug, bringing Hank 2 and 4's hands with you, "bring back some good vibes in his memory, yeah?"
Hank 4 shuffles beside you and leans his head against yours, nuzzling you slightly, an action that you easily return. "That sounds low-key nice," he mumbles, and the others murmur their agreements.
You smile. "Who wants to start, then?"
Silence.
You look to your right at Hank 2, who's frowning slightly at the ceiling, seemingly deep in thought. He must feel your eyes on him, because his eyes flit over to you for a second before looking back up. You can imagine the others have the same look of contemplation on their faces. Looking to your left to see Hank 4, you find that you're right, though his eyes are a little watery. You reach up and gently dab at the corner of his eye with your sleeve. He makes a small noise in response, a tiny squeak that would usually earn a few laughs. No one laughs this time.
You feel a nervous air about them, like they're worried that they might somehow say the wrong thing, or maybe they're trying to think of the most hype, rad, fire, extreme, bussin' things they can. You don't want this to become a competition where they try to out-cool each other, but you know that could easily happen if you don't give them something to go off.
"Would it help if I gave you all an example?" you ask the group. "I have a favourite memory of my auntie, I'd be happy to share it with you."
"Yes," they all immediately respond.
"Please," Hank 5 tacks on quietly at the end.
You chuckle softly and look back up at the stickers on the ceiling. "Sure thing." You let go of Hank 2 and 4's hands and trace mindless shapes across their palms.
"I don't remember too much about my auntie," you start. "We weren't super close. Our families didn't get many chances to visit each other. Her family didn't own a car, and our schedules didn't line up often. But one memory that sticks in my mind is when she was starting her treatment.
"Her hair was really long — almost reached her hips — but because of the treatment, it started to thin and fall out." You hear a chorus of sympathetic gasps around you. "Eventually she just told her husband to shave her head, so he did. It was really patchy, and she had this one small patch on the back of her head that was completely bald. She loved her hair, and losing it all was really hard for her, so I wanted to try and do something for her. I ended up crocheting a beanie for her."
One of the Hanks shifts above you. "You crochet, babe?" asks Hank 3.
You smile. "Yeah, I've been doing it for about nine years, but it's an on-and-off kinda thing." You hum in thought as you look at the half-open apartment door to your bedroom. "I guess you wouldn't have seen my stuff because I keep my craft supplies in Dae–" Your voice cracks. "Daem–" It cracks again. You clear your throat. "The dresser," you say instead, frowning a little, "and I haven't made anything that I'd keep on hangers…" You return your gaze to the star-speckled ceiling. "I could do a little 'show and tell' with you guys one day, if you'd like that. Show you stuff I've made that I still have."
Hank 2 takes hold of your hand again and smiles in your periphery — the first smile you've seen from any of them all day. "Yes, please," he says quietly.
"Did Auntie House Homie like the beanie?" Hank 4 asks you.
Auntie House Homie. You can't help but laugh at the name.
"Oh, she loved it. I used her two favourite colours, did a kinda…" You hold up your hands again, letting Hank 2 continue to hold one and Hank 4 loop his pinkie with your other. You move your hands horizontally through the air to mime stripes that sit atop each other, moving upwards. "I did a big chunk of blue, then a stripe of yellow, then a stripe of blue, then the rest of the top was yellow." You pause for a second, then chuckle. "That's 1's colours."
You hear Hank 1 huff a small laugh. Another sign that they're starting to feel a better, even if just a little. "That's so fire," he mumbles.
You grin. "Right?" You lower your hands, resting them on your stomach and playing with your partners' fingers. "When she put it on, she looked so happy and so much more comfortable than I'd seen her in ages." Your grin softens into a gentle smile. "It was really special…"
There's a comfortable quiet then, as you let the memory wash gently over you. You feel a warmth in your chest, one you hope the others all get to feel when they tell you their favourite moments with their late partner.
"So it doesn't have to be some… some huge, wicked moment?" Hank 2 asks beside you. "It can just be something kinda mundane?"
"It doesn't matter how dope or epic or gnarly it is," you assure everyone. "It can be the most simple little thing. There's no right or wrong answer."
"Then…" You can hear the smile in his voice. You feel your lips quirk up a little. "I think my favourite moment with 6 was when we had that horror movie marathon."
The other Hanks all groan, but most of them taper off into a soft chuckle.
You smile at Hank 2. "You guys watch horror?" you ask. "I wouldn't have guessed that. I'd have thought more along the lines of action, action thriller… maybe a rom-com every now and then when it's Hank 5's turn to choose." You can almost feel the blush emanating from him on Hank 2's right.
"We've only seen a few," Hank 2 defends, turning his head to face you, smiling slightly. "But…" His smile grows and he chuckles. "Bro, it was so hard for us to sleep after that."
"We kept seeing stuff movin' around in the dark," Hank 4 adds on.
"Yeah," Hank 2 continues, "these… monsters, people, whatever. You– uh." He chuckles. "I dunno if you remember, house homie, it was a few years ago, but there was a week or so where the closet door was always open and you kept having to close it? And at one point, you started to find us propping the door open?"
You furrow your brows and glance up above you as you dig through your memories. It sounds… familiar…
Wait.
You grin. "I remember! Yeah, I thought there was a ghost in my closet." She's in your attic, but you don't think you should bring that up in front of them just now. "I remember sending photos of the door being propped open to Sam. So– Wait." Feeling your smile fade, you turn to look at Hank 2. "That was you guys trying to sleep with the lights on?" you ask him.
He nods. "Yeah…" He smiles, sheepish. "We took turns keeping watch of the bedroom and closet…"
Your down depends. "I'm sorry, love, I had no idea…" You bring his hand to your lips and press a gentle kiss to his bare knuckles in apology. He blushes and smiles, glancing away with a subconscious squeeze of your hand.
"'S all good, babeski," he mumbles.
"Actually…" Hank 5 speaks up. You turn your head to try and see him better, but you can only see the top of his fluffy hair. His smile is clear in his voice when he speaks again. "I really liked that week, despite the, uh… the nightmares."
Hank 1 turns his head, evident by his locs moving by the top of your head. "Is this your favourite 6 moment, 5?" he asks him.
"Yeah," Hank 5 hums. "I think it was two nights after the movie marathon," he says. "I woke up real early and Hank 6 was, like–" He lifts his arms in the air, still holding Hank 2's hand in his left hand and Hank 3's in his right. He makes an approximation of a circle as best as he can with two people holding onto him. "He was all curled up against me…" His voice softens as he lowers his arms. "And he was holding onto my shirt…" The others all coo, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much at the picture it's painting in your mind. He sighs wistfully. "And I remember, he was wearing 4's shirt and 1's shorts… I think about that moment a lot."
"That's high-key adorable, bro…" Hank 3 whispers. There are nods and hums all around in agreement.
"Man, I miss his cuddles," Hank 2 mumbles.
"Me too!" the others all cry in unison. They all heave a big sigh, almost drowning out the sign of your soft laughter.
You squeeze the hands that continue to hold yours. "Since it seems like we're going around the circle, it's Hank 3's turn." You tilt your head back to look up at the mop of orange directly across from you in the circle. "Do you have a favourite Hank 6 moment?" you ask him.
Hank 3 hums softly as he thinks, tapering off into his familiar flirtatious chuckle. "Oh, man, do I…"
You laugh as the others all groan. "Care to share with the class?"
"House honey, I'd love to share."
"Please don't be sex, bro," Hank 1 says flatly.
Hank 3's head turns toward him, you think. You can't see much from this angle. "You'd like that, wouldn't ya, you little freak?" he teases with an audible grin before looking back up at the ceiling. Hank 1 huffs but says nothing else. "Nah, not sex," Hank 3 says. "But."
You share a glance with Hank 4. He's biting his lip, and his cheeks are pink. They only darken when Hank 3 continues.
"You bros remember when all six of us tried to kiss at once?" Hank 2 tightens his hold on your right hand, and Hank 4 looks back up at the ceiling and bites his lip harder as he tries and fails to back his smile. Hank 3 is laughing as he talks. "How it didn't work at all?" Hank 4 brings his hand up to cover his mouth, bringing Hank 1's hand with it and poorly muffling his giggles.
Your cheeks hurt from grinning. "You have to tell me about this," you laugh.
Hank 3 is all too eager to oblige. "House homie, it was insane! We all sat in a circle, all six of us, and we tried so so hard for like… half an hour to try and kiss everyone at the same time. But like, duh, 'course it didn't work." He chuckles. "So we just gave each other one at a time. Way less epic but still awesome as hell." He pauses for a second. "We could, ah…" You hear him shuffle, so you turn your body a little to try and look at him. You meet his eyes, which sparkle with interest. He smirks at you. "We could try and recreate it sometime, huh, gorgeous?"
The others immediately boo him.
"Cringe!"
"No rizz!"
"No aura!"
"Partnerless behaviour!"
"I have five partners, thank you!"
Your joyous laughter cuts them all off. You let go of Hank 2's hand to reach up and lightly cup 3's cheek. He grins at you and nuzzles into your hand. "I'd happily recreate that with you," you tell him.
He groans softly. "Right on, babe."
"Another time, though. When you're all feeling better." You pinch his cheek and return your hand to Hank 2's, which has sat patiently waiting on your stomach, your fingers interlacing with ease. "Hank 1?"
Hank 1 gives a low, thoughtful hum. "I dunno, man, I…" He huffs. "I feel like saying 'our first time Hank Gliding' is a cop out now…"
You tilt your head to the left now to talk directly to him, despite not being able to see him properly. "It's not a cop out," you tell him. "If that's your favourite moment, then that's what it is."
You can hear a smile creeping into his voice. "I s'pose so."
"It was fire, homie, trust," Hank 5 interjects quietly.
"Oh, I trust," you chuckle. "Do you wanna talk about that, 1?"
"Well, it wasn't like a big thing," Hank 1 explains. "I mean, we were already hang gliding way before then." You feel the nods from the others against your head. "But then we had this collective thought, back when it was, you know… all of us." You hum in acknowledgement. "Hank 6 was the one that said it out loud, though. He was like–" He waves his hand in the air, bringing Hank 3's arm to limply hang from it. "'Yo yo yo, dudes. Hank Gliding.' And we all screamed like–"
"'Hell yeah, Hank Gliding!'" they all cheer, throwing their hands in the air. You grin as you let your arms be pulled up with them.
"–and that's how we named it!" Hank 1 finishes. The Hanks lower their, and your, arms.
"The retelling doesn't do it justice, it was dope," Hank 2 says with a shake of his head.
"No, it does!" you argue. "It was a big moment, that's something to be proud of! It sounds like it would've been awesome to be there for."
"It was so awesome," Hank 1 says breathes.
You're about to speak again, something about how you and Sam sometimes share a thought and say it at the same time, but Hank 4 interrupts you, waving your joined hands in the air between you with a wide grin.
"I have my favourite moment!"
You smile at him. "Go ahead!"
"Okay so like–" He frowns. "Wait, no, I gotta explain stuff first." He waves his hand, and consequently yours, as he talks. "Hank 6 had like, dark brown hair, but not like Hank 5 does. It was kinda red, like…"
"It was a really warm brown," Hank 2 explains for him.
"Looked kinda red in the sun," Hank 5 adds. You nod along, imagining what you think is the right colour as your eyes flick across the stickers on the ceiling.
"Yeah!" Hank 4 continues. "So one day, he was just like, 'Bros, I'm bleaching my hair'." The other Hanks seem to pick up on what this story is immediately, as they all start to giggle. "So–" He struggles to speak through his own giggles. "So we all helped him do it, but we're– we're not good with hair stuff, and it came out suuuuuuper orange!"
"So orange!" you hear somewhere above you through the laughter. "More orange than Hank 3!"
Your eyebrows raise as you grin. "More than 3?" you question.
"More!" they all agree.
You laugh, bringing Hank 2' hand to lay on your ches, Hank 4's still waving in the air between you. "Did you leave it like that or did you try and salvage it?" you ask, turning to look at Hank 4.
"Oh, bro, we were gonna try and do something about it," he continues, "but then Barry showed up and he was–"
"Horrified," they all say lowly, a shudder travels around the circle through them. You cringe at the sight it must have been to poor Barry.
"So he kicked us outta the bathroom and hogged Hank 6 in there for like two hours. And we were like, 'Man, what the hell is going on in there?' but we couldn't go in or he woulda kicked us back out." He turns to you, eyes wide, and squeezes your hand tight. You turn to meet his gaze. "But homie, when he came out of there…" The Hanks all groan softly, like they can't keep the sound to themselves. Just the sound makes you blush. "He was so hot!"
"So hot!" Hank 3 cries, and you see his empty hands thrown up and then into his hair. "It wasn't fair!" Someone else lets out a tiny whine, but you can't tell who it was or where it came from.
Hank 4 continues with his story. "Barry– Oh man, he did so fuckin' good. He like, fully changed his hair. He used this deep red dye and gave him a haircut and– I have photos!" he suddenly exclaims. He flings your and Hank 1's hands away to rip his phone from his pocket and scroll frantically through his gallery. It takes him only half a minute to find it, evident by his giggling. "Here, homie!" He shoves his phone in your face, momentarily blinding you. You take the phone with your now empty left hand and hold it up to see the photo properly.
The photo is of a man you don't recognise, but even if you didn't have the context of who this is from your partners, you'd instantly know that this is one of the Hanks. He wears a hanger-themed jumpsuit, just like the others, sky blue with red and silver accents. He has tan skin, bright brown eyes, slight stubble on his chin and upper lip, what look to be stretched earlobes, and a mess of deep, warm brown hair on his head, sides and back shaved short. Just from this one photo, you can see a bit of what his personality must have been like — he's striking an effortlessly confident pose for the camera, one hand on his chin and a smirk on his face, one eyebrow raised behind his hair that falls over his forehead.
"He's so cute," you whisper in awe.
"Dude, right?" Hank 4 replies. He reaches over and takes his phone, scrolling again. "That's what he looked like before we tried to do his hair." He hums as he searches. "Mmm… Here!" He shoves his phone in your face again, and you shoot your hand up to push it back so you can see the new photo.
Hank 6's hair is a tragic mess, a wild nest of the brightest orange you've ever seen, strands sticking out in every direction. You can tell he's not impressed, despite the huge grin on his face, photo taken mid-laugh. You can't hold back your own laughter that bubbles from your chest. "Oh God, it's so orange!" you cry.
Hank 4 giggles as he swipes to the next photo. This one is of Hank 6 and Hank 3 sitting beside each other, cheeks pressed together to show the contrast between the two's hair colours. True to what they've told you, Hank 6's hair is somehow far more orange than 3's.
"Holy shit," you can't help but say. "You weren't kidding."
The others laugh, voices much closer than you remember them being. You look around you to find that they've moved closer to look at the photos with you. Hank 2 remains at your side, holding your hand, head against your arm. Hank 4 is cuddled up to you on your left, his head resting on your chest. Hanks 1 and 3 have moved their heads onto your left and right shoulders respectively, somehow without you noticing, and Hank 5 is sitting up to lean over everyone so he can see the screen. They're all grinning, barely any of the earlier sombre air around them now.
Hank 4 swipes again, and you return your gaze to the screen. This photo is blurry, but you can see Barry at the door of the bathroom behind Hank 6, mortification written across his entire being. His eyes are wide, his face his pale, his jaw is dropped open, and his whole body is rigid. "That's when Barry found us," Hank 4 explains through a laugh. You've never seen Barry more horrified by something in all your time knowing him.
He swipes one more time and hums happily against your chest. You feel more than hear Hank 3 groan against your shoulder at the sight on the screen, and truthfully, you can't blame him.
Hank 6 stands at the door separating your bedroom and bathroom, Barry behind him with a blinding smile and pink cheeks. Hank 6 poses and smirks at the camera like he knows just how stunning he looks, his hair now a deep wine red, washed and blow dried. The slight waves of his hair are more pronounced now by whatever Barry did for him, ends trimmed to keep them out of his eyes.
"Woah…" you whisper, admiring the photo of this beautiful, confident Hank. Something else in the photo catches your attention, though, and you bring the phone closer to your face, squinting slightly. You point at the bottom left corner, where a small portion of a blurry, tear streaked face sits in the foreground. "Is that Hank 3 crying?" Hank 1 snorts and covers his mouth, the others giggling.
Hank 3 scoffs. "Of course I cried, look at him!" He gestures to the screen. "The others are insane for not crying!" You laugh and lean your head against his. He grumbles but nuzzles his cheek against yours, biting back a smile.
"You woulda really liked him, house honey," Hank 5 says softly.
"I think so too," you respond, matching his volume. "He seems like he'd have been so much fun to hang out with."
"Yeah…" they all murmur, shuffling the slightest but closer to you.
You hum and smile down at Hank 4, who has now slung an arm around your waist. "Do you have more photos?" you ask him.
He brightens and grins up at you. "'Course I do!" he exclaims. He snatches his phone from your hand and sits up, beaming down at everyone. "But first, we gotta go to the TV and get mad comfy!" He jumps up and runs further into The Adrenaline Den — The Competition Casita? The… They've changed the name so many times, you're not sure what to call their apartment anymore. He disappears through one of the few doors down the hall.
You blink and look at the others, then up at Hank 5, who still hovers above you all. He grins down at you. "We have a TV in our bedroom," he explains as he stands. He holds out a hand to Hank 1 and pulls him to his feet. "He's gonna hook his phone up to it so we can all see the pics and vids better."
"Oh!" You sit up, and Hanks 2 and 3 stand and take your hands to help you up. Your brows furrow. "Wait, you said 'our' bedroom?"
"Yeah!" they all exclaim, including Hank 4 down the hall, none elaborating further as they lead you through the apartment and to their bedroom. As soon as you reach the open door, you realise what they mean by 'our bedroom', and your jaw drops.
They have the single biggest, most plush looking bed you've ever seen in your life, both in person and on a screen. The Hanks are already comfortable on the bed, cuddled up together with Hank 4 in the middle, connecting his phone to the TV that sits directly across from them. You look around for a place to squeeze in, but Hanks 1 and 3 quickly make space between them for you to sit. Hank 5 shuffles closer to rest his head in your lap, and your hand moves to play with his soft hair.
You spend the rest of your time with your partners going through everything in Hank 4's gallery, regardless of if they have anything to do with Hank 6. You're smiling through it all, as they walk you through memories and past adventures, including photos and videos with Hanks 7 and 8.
You only leave after the Dateviators alert you, warning you that your current charge is almost empty, though you part with a promise to continue sharing memories with each other during your next visit, provided they don't have another adventure lined up for the day.