DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

Stay Alive (Kleinsen)

"You don't understand, Mom! I..." Jared trailed off, his eyes filled to the brim with tears as he stared back at his mother. He couldn't face her. He couldn't. The way he felt was too strong, and the way she felt was clear enough. She gave him the coldest stare anyone could give. She wasn't just upset with him. She wasn't just angry. She was disappointed, and Jared couldn't handle it. It hurt. It was like she shoved him into the deep end in a pool on a hot summer day while he was mid panic attack about showing himself in any public place. She was drowning him. It was killing him. He already hated himself. He never thought she would, too.

"You what, Jared?" She hissed. "Go on! Tell me."

"I love him!" Jared cried, taking a step back. He was being choked, his vision blurry. He wished he had Evan with him. He wished he had Connor, or Zoe, or Alana, or anyone.

"Get out."

"What?" His voice shook as she nearly threw her spatula at him, screaming.

"Jared, I said get out! Go!"

Jared pulled on his hair, sprinting out of the door, the rain pouring on his face. He couldn't tell what water was on his face, anymore. Rain? Sweat? Tears? He couldn't figure it out. He jut wanted to call Evan. He pulled out his phone and dialed Evan immediately. He tapped his toe impatiently, as if his life were depending on his boyfriend, because it was.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello, you have reached Evan Hansen's phone. Please leave a message, and I, uh, I will uh, try to get back to you."

"Evan. I told my mom about us and she kicked me out and I have nowhere to go and it's raining and I can't breathe and I need help. Please, Evan. I really need you." Jared paused. "Call me back."

"Drop the phone."

Jared hit the hang up button and let it slide out of his hands, turning around to be met with the face of a man in a black hood with bright green eyes. He could see nothing more than the gun points at him. "I know who you are, Jared Kleinman. You're that fag dating Evan Hansen. Homosexuality is looked gown upon by your superiors. You know that, right, boy?" He cocked the gun. "No wonder your mom kicked you out."

Jared put his hands up in defense. "Who are you?"

"Give me your wallet."

"Who are you?"

"Wallet, now."

"I didn't bring anything with me." Jared spoke, panic setting in once more. Thousands of little spasms raked his body, whether it be shaking, or twitching, or uncontrollable sobbing. Jared took a step back, shying away from the gunman, and the inevitability of death, or at least, critical wounds seven feet ahead of him. "I... I swear man. I didn't bring anything. N-Nothin's on me, see?" Jared took another step back.

"Why are you lying to me, Jared? Wallet. Now."

Jared closed his eyes. "I don't have it."

"Well, then you're nothin to me." The man, now soaked in pouring rain, stepped closer.

Jared hated what he did next.

You know how in moments of panic you do stupid things? Yeah. He did the stupid thing.

Jared, as fast as he could, turned tail and ran, forgetting his cracked phone in the sidewalk, dear pumping through his veins. He had to make it to Evan's.

But who the fuck can outrun a bullet?

Let alone four.

The first hit was to his shoulder, and he shrieked in pain but kept running. The second was on his side, right under the rib cage, and Jared could feel the metal ripping through his flesh.