DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

Choke (Treebros Angst-ish)

Connor stared absentmindedly stared out the window, picking at his French Toast sticks with his fork. He was completely alone now. He had nothing left. Connor Murphy hadn't been Connor Murphy for a while. Not since he last kissed Evan. Connor was a vessel, now. His eyes were dark, his face blank. He sat there, quietly, lying to himself the entire time. The window was a portal to the outside, where birds fluttered by, the sounds of their wings like soft fur kissing itself as every strand brushed against its counterpart. The sun shone brightly. This was never supposed to be like this. Connor was supposed to marry Evan Hansen, not watch him nearly die.

Evan Hansen has been in a coma for two weeks, now, and it was all Connor's fault.

At least, that was the idea that Connor entertained, though none of it made sense. Connor and Evan were at the orchard, of course. That was where they always were. They sat in a tall tree, feelings of sadness cousins through them as they remembered when the place was still open and maintained. They sat at the only tree that wasn't bare and dry. It was their favorite thing. They loved the one large outburst of color in a world of disappointment and darkness. They were that for each other. Though they knew they weren't ever going to feel what they felt in that moment, it seemed to go so fast. Connor was going to ask Evan to marry him. He was reaching for the box in his pocket, when there was a gunshot.

And Evan was barely able to yelp before he almost slid off the branch.

It was a hunter. He meant no harm. Connor didn't blame him, but, he knew that if Evan had been placed just a little further away from Connor, then he would have been missed.

But Evan kissed Connor as Connor pulled out the ring.

It was Connor's fault.

He was sitting in Evan's hospital room for the fourth day straight, still staring out the window, his uneaten French toast sticks growing colder by the minute.

Just like Evan's hand.

The most painful thing for Connor was to watch as his beloved was taken to this dreadful place. The stench of hand sanitizer and boring hospital food was enough to make Connor vomit.

And then there was Heidi.

Now that hurt.

Heidi Hansen was completing her routine shift at the hospital when her son was rolled in, a sobbing Connor sprinting behind him. Explaining what happened to Heidi was one of the most difficult experiences that Connor had ever gone through. He was frantic, his heart pumping out of his chest, his eyes glazed with tears, his mouth in an ugly, open frown. His stomach did flips and bounds within his body, and the only thing he could get out for a solid twenty minutes was the single word, "Shot."

Heidi and Connor spent the next two nights sitting by Evan's side, before Heidi had to work again, leaving Connor all alone with Evan.

Naturally, Connor searched his phone contacts, scrolling down to find Insanely Stupid: Jared Kleinman. Who Else could he call? It was four days after the accident, and no one knew. Jared and Evan had been the best of friends since elementary school, and now, as full grown men, that bond had not faded, yet.

He heard a buzz, looking down to the end table to see Evan's phone, screaming with alerts.

36 new messages: Jared Kleinman

Dude, where the hell are you?

Connor choked back a sob as he stared at his phone, again, hitting the call button underneath Jared's name. It rang twice, before the inevitable: "Connor, have you heard from Evan?"