You wake up late at night to get a drink. You're thirsty. But someone is sobbing in the other room. So, naturally, you go check up on them. It's Hank. Hank is sobbing his eyes out.

"Make them go away! They killed my fucking son!" Hank screamed to himself; his eyes bloodshot enough to hide the blue hues.

He's so caught up in his own trauma he can't hear you enter. The former policeman has his gun in his hands, pointed at himself.