Rating(s) of the fic you want: I’m not very picky
Which brother: I say Mr. Zac Hanson please
Three things you want your fic to include:
- a sewing kit
- an old Hanson track that they never really polished or released
- and the line “he’s like an old, cranky dog”
Three things you do not want your fic to include:
- the Moffats (seriously, please don’t)
- girlfriend-bashing (they chose those girls for a reason)
- and preachy plotlines
Zac spun the record and blew it before putting it on the player. He moved the eye to begin the record and he sat back and listened so intensively as if he were searching for something in the song that he hadn’t heard before.
“It’s the second week in a row!” His eldest brother, Isaac, barged in the back room where Zac lay. “I swear if he’s not writing music, he’s playing it and if not that he’s listening to it”
“Shut up,” Zac mumbled trying to keep his focus on the music that tuned into his ears.
“Make me!” Isaac said standing over his little brother.
“I won’t, but mom will,” Zac warned.
“Ooh, is the big baby gonna call his wittle mommy?”
Zac glared up at his 15 year old brother. “Shut up!” Zac repeated now with more strength and force in his voice.
Zac shook the memory away that was made years ago. The song had stopped playing and he hoisted himself up off the ground. Turning off the record player, he walked through the small house and went into his old sister’s room.
He searched for something and finally getting on his hands and knees he crouched and wiggled his hand under the bed. The sewing kit.
“Avery! It’s mine! Mom bought it for me!” Jessica yelled tugging on the box.
“What! It is not! It’s mine! Mom bought it for ME!” Avery yelled back on the other end of the sewing kit box.
“Girls!” Zac yelled walking into their room.
“WHAT?!” They both chorused loudly and he laughed a little.
As fast as a blink of the eye the box broke in half making Avery and Jessica fly back with their own half of the box.
“I guess that’s settled now” Zac snickered.
They both started to cry, picking up the contents that spewed everywhere from the explosion of the box and Zac sighed, kneeling down and picking it up with them.
Zac searched and searched for the other side of the box, but he could only find the one he had in his hand and he blew the dust off and rubbed it. It had Jessica Hanson scribbled across it and he half-chuckled at it before placing it back under the bed.
He exited the room and walked through the hallway and cast a glance at the hallway closet.
“Now, stay in here or Santa won’t come!” Isaac told his two little brothers, Taylor and Zac.
“Okay” The 6 year old little boy whispered and the 8 year old hushed him.
“I’ll be back in the morning!” Isaac said, closing the door slowly and softly.
The little hole that they called a closet the two little boys were in suddenly became dark and the youngest was frightened.
“I WANT OUT!” He yelled, getting up and twisting the knob back and forth.
“THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” Taylor yelled with his brother, both banging on the door now.
Waking up the whole house on that snowy Christmas Eve, their parents came rushing down the hallway, their robes flapping behind them as they removed the chair in front of the closet and opened the door where they found their two sons.
Needless to say, Isaac was grounded all Christmas Day and for the rest of their holiday break.
He never forgave Taylor and Zac for ratting him out.
Zac chuckled lightly as he passed the closet and went into the kitchen where he could almost smell his mom’s chocolate chip cookies. Oh, how he missed that pure scent of running in from playing outside and his mom getting them out of the oven for him and his brothers.
He sighed as he walked around the tiny kitchen sliding his hand over the smooth worn out 70′s orange counter top. His eyes were fixed on the corner of the counter top where he busted his head open just 12 years earlier.
“Children, stop running in my kitchen before someone gets hurt!” Diana yelled at two of her four sons.
“Taylor started it!” The squealing 10 year old Zac got out trying to stay from Taylor.
“I did not! Zac hit me first!” The 12 year old yelled, chasing his brother in circles around the kitchen.
Trying to stop running in circles, Zac tried cornering around and slid on a rollerblade hitting his head on the corner of the counter before falling off his feet.
Zac whined all the way to the E.R.
“Make him be quiet,” The little sister, Jessica, whined with him.
“He sounds like an old, cranky dog on a leash… in the rain!” Taylor added.
10 stitches, and 2 groundings later the Hanson’s found themselves back home and Zac up-to speed again with his brothers, regardless of his bandaged up forehead.
Zac rubbed his head lightly where the scar still faintly was. He shook the feeling off and swung the door open to where the small game room was. He smiled at the room and looked around. So many memories were made in here, including half the songs that were on his band’s first record ‘Middle of Nowhere’.
One of his favorites didn’t even make the record, he could still faintly hear the song being played from Ike’s guitar and Tay’s soothing voice, while Zac banged on some old tattered bongos.
Zac chuckled lightly as he remembered the insults being thrown at Taylor for his girly high-pitched voice but no one could ever doubt him because of it.
He sang lightly, closing his eyes.
‘Cause my broken heart
Can mend all of itself
Today your hope is gone
You took it when you left
‘Cause you promised you’d hold on
And never could let go
If you find yourself alone just call me
As he finished the chorus, he noticed a tear escape from his eyes. It burned his cheek as it slid down and to his neck.
Feeling a hand graze his shoulder, he looked over and saw the warm and friendly eyes of his mother.
“Ready?” She whispered.
He sighed and nodded before turning around and walking out of the room and out of the house with him, meeting his whole family, all 7 of them out there, 9 including himself and his mother as they joined the rest.
They stood a good distance away from their first home, so many memories about to be demolished and it seemed as if Zac were the only one to care.
He took the time to go through the house and he took the time to reacquaint himself with everything before it was going to be left behind.
“Do it,” Walker bellowed as a crane lowered and fell into the house.
Zac looked away and in a blink of his eye the house was destroyed.
He walked away and down the street. For no reason apparent, they destroyed the home he grew up. Screw all the other homes and houses. That one was the one he loved the most. He didn’t care about how small it was or how it housed so many roaches.
He didn’t care about any of those things. There were so many memories in that house he and his family made that none other could compare.
But of course, it all came down to the company that bought the whole street of homes including the Hanson’s. Building a Wal-Mart there seemed “reasonable” to his father, so when his father wanted it, there was no standing in the way.
Zac cursed everything off into the wind, before pulling his leather jacket closer to him and making his way back to his car.
Avoiding the eye contact of his family and the fact that he was supposed to drive Jessica and Avery to the mall, he didn’t once look back in the mirror.