The moon stretched out like an endless desert of silver dust, every footprint carved into its surface a quiet testament to the impossible journey that had brought you here. The others were still laughing, their voices echoing across the stillness of the void, but Hank 5 stood a little apart. His green-and-white jumpsuit glowed softly under the Earthlight, the pink plastic hangers strapped across his body swaying gently as he shifted his weight.

He turned slowly, his chocolate-brown eyes finding yours. There was a softness to his gaze, a thoughtfulness that seemed almost out of place in such a surreal, chaotic adventure. His lips parted as if to speak, then closed again. For a moment, it seemed like he might retreat back into silence, but instead, he drew in a steadying breath.

"I… never thought I’d see something like this," he said quietly, his voice carrying a warmth that cut through the cold emptiness of space. "Never thought I’d be here, standing on the moon, with… you."

He shifted, boots pressing into the dust as if grounding himself. His hand brushed over the small mole on his cheek—a nervous habit—and his eyes flickered toward the others before returning to you.

"They don’t see it, not always. How fast everything moves, how much can be lost if you don’t hold on. I notice things, though. Little things. Like the way you looked back at the waterfall before we jumped. Or how your breath caught when the Earth came into view from up here." His smile was soft, almost shy. "It makes me want to hold on tighter. To all of this. To you."

For a long beat, he stayed quiet, the kind of silence that felt deliberate, full of meaning. Then, with a gentleness that contrasted the wild energy of his brothers, he extended his hand to you.

"We said you’re the Seventh Hank. And I meant it. But for me…" His voice wavered, then steadied, "…you’re more than that. You’re someone I want to build a future with. Not just another fall, not just another jump. Something lasting. Something real."

His lips curved into the faintest smile, small but sincere.

"And maybe… someday… we’ll hear someone call us ‘Dad.’" His cheeks colored at the admission, and he glanced down, suddenly bashful, before his eyes lifted again to yours. "Wouldn’t that be something?"