𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘, 𝐌𝐄 | dear evan hansen oneshots (HIATUS)

bruises [treebros]

TW: profanity, mentions of emotional and physical abuse, manipulation & biphobia

His mind was a mess. None of his thoughts made sense anymore, and he needed desperately to get away, get far away before they could hurt him any more.

Escape was the only way. He had to escape.

So Connor lit a blunt, letting the smoke numb his senses. But it still wasn't enough.

"Bisexuality isn't real, Connor," Larry sneered. "Get that in your head! Stop vying for attention, you useless bastard! Under this roof, you're straight, or you're not my son."

He had never before gone that far.

As he'd stumbled out of the house, Connor's cold, untouchable facade faltered, leaving behind a scared, vulnerable boy.

He hadn't registered the years of pent-up grief and pain spilling down his cheeks.

All he wanted was to disappear.

He lit another blunt. Temporarily, with help of the smoke, he could.

***

He should've known Heather Chandler was bad news.

He should've known it the moment they'd met. Yet the naive boy within had hoped this would be different.

Wrong.

Evan had lost count of how many times he's ended up in this situation.

It was shameful.

He had no power, he couldn't fight back. He couldn't do anything but cover her tracks.

Why do they hate me?

Why don't I fight back?

Why do I cry myself to sleep?

There was no point trying to save the smudged, out-of-place makeup.

Just clean it off and apply a new layer of foundation. It'll be fine, nobody will notice.

It's not like they ever noticed him to begin with.

***

Connor had come down from his high. It had helped settle his frayed nerves, that was for sure.

The lingering began to dissipate, and he was left alone with his muffled thoughts... until he wasn't.

A sandy-haired boy, seemingly about his age, stumbled into the washroom. Connor realized he was familiar — they'd probably had classes together at some point — but there were more pressing matters at hand. He seemed to have make-up on. And something told him that the make-up was hiding an awful story.

He was right.

Connor watched in fixated horror as the boy wiped off the concealer (Zoe had taught him a thing or two about makeup) — and nasty splotches of blue, yellow and grey were everywhere.

The boy was too focused on reapplying his makeup to hear the gasp of alarm that fell from Connor's lips.

He had to do something. But what?

Oh, fuck it. Here goes.

***

It wasn't until someone gently tapped Evan's shoulder that he spun around, nearly crashing into them.

"Shit- I mean, shoot, I-I'm so sorry, I didn't see you."

They chuckled. "It's okay. Nobody ever notices me anyways, I'm used to it."

Wait. That voice sounds familiar.

Evan glanced up, eyes widening in fear when he realized who he was talking to.

Connor Murphy, the lone stoner, the nicknamed "school shooter".

"C...Connor?"

He had expected Connor to be glaring down at him maliciously; instead, he had a gentle gleam in his chocolate-speckled blue eyes. "Yeah, that's me."

The latter's voice took on a softer tone. "Hey, when you walked in here, your mind was quite clearly elsewhere..."

Evan tensed.

"And when you wiped off your concealer, I couldn't help but notice the splashes of blue, yellow and grey."

Shit, he knows. He'll force me to tell him and then he'll laugh at me and call me weak and-

Connor sighed. "I know I'm not the... most ideal person to talk to, but whatever caused this, it's morally wrong. I know from experience and I won't stand someone else going through it alone." His eyes turned stormy for just a moment. But then— "Is there anything I can do?"

Maybe Connor Murphy isn't as bad as people chalk him up to be.

Connor's unexpected kindness was the last thing Evan had thought would come out of this.

What is there to lose, anyway?

So with a few shaky breaths, Evan began to explain.

His broken arm

His first day of senior year

His first time speaking to Heather Chandler

His first time being asked out, by Heather Chandler

Their first date

Their first fight

Their first physical fight

The bruises.

Connor was speechless. He knew Chandler was cruel, but he didn't think she was capable of hurting such an innocent person.

Clearly, she was.

Evan didn't deserve any of this.

Evan was on the verge of another breakdown. Connor opted instead to hold the boy tightly in his arms.
They stayed like that for a long time, not caring who saw. Neither one knew for how long it lasted, but neither cared.

Finally, Evan broke the silence, slipping a tentative hand into Connor's, who laced their fingers together. "I don't know why you smoke, Connor, but I do know you have a reason. I will always stand behind you... no matter what. I'll be here."

Both boys were bruised, hurt and weary. They were bruised in different places for different reasons, and they couldn't be more different. But in the end, they understood each other, and that was what mattered most.

so cute audhajahjUGH
also i haven't written proper romantic interaction like handholding and stuff for years - the last time i did that was during my dramione phase so forgive me if some of the treebros oneshots are a little awkward 💀 they'll get better i promise

i love heather chandler but i needed someone to blame so i chose her heh-