2BHank oneshots <33

☁︎︎ / "Mystery"

"Wimbleton!" 2B called out. His eyes scanned the vast field of dead grass that surrounded their base, looking for Hank. A small breeze brushed gently across the grass and through Doc's hair. Far off in the distance, he spotted the man in all black, sitting down on a hill and gazing up at the blood red sky.

2B made his way over, stopping a few steps away from where Hank was seated. Hank's face
was blank like always, but even his body language was unreadable. 2B wasn't sure what Hank was doing out here this late in the evening, though he seemed to be in deep thought.

"Hank." Doc said, watching Hank slowly turn his head as if he had just heard the medic call. They met eyes through both their red goggles. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

'Thinking.' Hank signed, looking away from Doc and into the distance. 2B walked to Hank's side before sitting down on the crunchy brown grass with him.

"Ah." Doc hummed, "Sanford was looking for you."

Hank simply nodded, not moving from his spot. His hands sat unmoving in his lap and he slouched over some more. 2B couldn't help but take notice of Hank's silence. He worried for him, something he did quite often and hated. Every second of everyday that Hank was away from him, all he did was worry.

Hank was unreadable. Everything about the man was a mystery. Doc had known him for years, sharing a base with him, having mutual friends, yet he felt he didn't know Hank at all. Despite all this time they'd known each other, Hank was still a puzzle yet to be solved. 2B cared for Hank, no doubt about that, but it felt like more than how he cared for Deimos and Sanford. It was constant, every moment Hank was gone from his sight he worried.

The man was so interesting to Doc, he wanted to know more about him. He didn't like how curious he was about Hank, he didn't like a lot of things he felt towards the man. 2B just wasn't sure what exactly to do.. could he really just ask for Hank to open himself up to him?

Hank continued to be awfully quiet. "Hank, is something wrong?" Doc asked, staring up suspiciously at the larger man beside him.

'No, it's nothing like that.' Doc felt relief wash over him as he watched Hank's hands do the talking. 'Thinking of a plan for our next mission.'

2B hummed, telling Hank he understood. An uncomfortable silence resumed, nothing but the sound of the wind whipping past their ears and the few dead trees creaking as the wind bothered them. That was it. That was the most Hank had ever told him to be honest.

Their relationship consisted of awkwardly waving at each other randomly, Hank getting torn to shreds and Doc fixing him, and that was about it. 2B could ask him to tell him if a stitch popped or his bandages needed changing but Hank never did. He was just silent. He would do it himself.

Doc hated every second of it. He wanted so bad to know more about Hank, but not from Deimos or Sanford. He wanted Hank himself to actually have a conversation with him. What made it so hard to talk to him? It was like a nervous, jittery feeling washed over him every time he was in the presence of the most wanted man in Nevada.

"Do you hate me?" 2B spoke suddenly, staring firmly at his hands to avoid Hank's gaze.

'No. Where did you get that idea?' He signed, Doc processing his hand movements but not daring to make eye contact.

"Not sure.. it's just.. awkward with us." Doc sighed, "You'd think we would have opened up to each other by now, it's been almost two years since we found this hideout."

Hank sat silent for a moment. An unsure expression was visible on the man's face. 'I don't know' he signed slowly.

That was the end. Hank stood up, quickly signing 'Wasn't Sanford looking for me?' before walking away. 2B just sat there for a moment, his heart aching in his chest. He wasn't sure why he wanted Hank's attention so much, but as Hank headed back towards their base he couldn't help but hurt as he was left there.

Maybe Hank was just a mystery that would never be solved.

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Word count : 749
Date : 3/10/21