DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

Adam (Kleinsen)

Tw: Attempted Suicide

Parent AU

You don't realize how important something is to you until you lose it.

For Jared Kleinman, it all came up so fast, the words of choked out apologies and angrily shouted 'I love you's' that hung in the air like a flag on a windless day. It came faster than the vomit in his throat when he first saw it. It came so much faster than his fingers when they scrolled through his contacts, frantically dialing Evan's number before he thought to call the police. It came so much faster than his rapid heartbeat, ebbing away at his faulty sanity, leaving him with nothing but short breaths and his panicking frame sitting in the center of his son's bedroom.

For Adam, having two dads was the reason he was doing this.

The exhaustion of always having to explain the fact that he didn't have a mother, or the constant taunting of other kids, telling him that he would never be accepted, simply because the two men that he looked up to, that he loved, were abominations to their twisted, warped society.

Adam never opened his mouth to speak, he never listened to anyone, besides his teachers, and even they began to drone on and on after a while, like the persistent him of a car motor that he would eventually tune out, or fall asleep to. If he didn't tune them out, they wouldn't shut up, and they would get stuck under his skin, and he would freak out, and scratch his skin off to rid himself of their taunting words.

It wasn't his fault that they hated him. It wasn't either if his father's' faults. It was their fault, and their fault alone.

It was their fault that Adam put himself through relentless pain, repeating his anxious tendencies every week, attempting to ease the pain with therapy. It just brought back terrifying memories for the boy. It was their fault that Adam wanted out. It was there fault that the dark haired, green eye'd boy wanted nothing more than to never have to put up with their merciless comments. It was their fault that they had gotten what they wanted.

It was their fault that Adam had found his father's anxiety pills.

It was their fault, that with trembling fingers, the boy poured at least fifteen of the capsules into his clammy hands, his eyes shutting as he took one, attempting to calm himself.

It was their fault that Adam slid down the wall, too afraid to take the whole handful at once.

It was their fault that he took them one by one, too terrified to finish the bottle.

It's not your fault.
It's my own for thinking that I was actually worth something. It's theirs for making me feel like I'm not. I guess they're right.

—Adam

It was their fault that when Jared got home that night, at around 5:30, and knocked on his son's door asking if he wanted any Chinese takeout, expecting his son to have already eaten, the man got no response.

It was their fault that when he opened his son's door, unlocked for the first time since the boy started high school, he collapsed in the floor, next to his son, next to Evan's anxiety pill bottle, and cradled Adam in his arms, tears coming too fast for his eyes to keep up with.

It all came so fast.

It was regret, instantly, for not seeing the warning signs sooner. It was literal pain as he pressed his fingers to his son's neck, desperately trying to find a pulse to give the operator any indication that the boy was not dead. It was asthma that overtook Jared as his son was pried from his fingertips. It was fear as he was left to follow them, but was unable to find the strength to pick himself up off the floor until they were ready to take his son, his own damn son, away from him.

But it was regret. That was the first thing he felt, and the only thing he could even think of.

For Evan Hansen, it was complete fear over the fact that he may never see his son, again.

If there was one thing Evan loved more than Jared, it was Jared and Adam. His boys were his lifeline. They helped him get over his anxiety, for the most part, when it came to his job. They were like beacons of hope in a crazy, warped world, that he tried to help people make sense of.

You'd think Evan would be used to the subject of suicide, by now. His high school years weren't all that different than his son's, but Evan didn't want anyone to feel like he did, so he worked on it. He worked on it for college. He worked on it in grad school. He worked on it in medical school. Evan worked on it, just so he could help the kids like him.

So, for him, as a licensed psychiatrist, Evan felt so guilty when Jared called him.

He didn't help. He didn't help him at all. All he did was send his son to someone else, that, because of anxiety, he thought was better than him, because he couldn't risk slipping up and losing Adam.

I should have helped him.

That was the only thing swirling around in Evan's mind when he burst through emergency room doors, only to be embraced by his sobbing husband. "Hey," Evan said, softly, his eyes brimming with tears as he pulled Jared closer to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Hey, Jared." His voice was soothing, even in his shaky nervousness. He buried his face in Jared's shoulder, unable to keep hot, salty tears from spilling out into the linoleum tile beneath the two.

"He... He," Jared couldn't speak. He just sat there, digging his nails into Evan's back, holding him so tightly, afraid to let him go. "I just... I can't..."

"I know," Evan said, chewing on his bottom lip with a certain intensity, almost as if his mouth was a dam, and if he even dared to open it, again, the entire thing would burst. Evan shook his head. "I know," he tried, again, this time, a sob escaping his lips.

"I can't lose him," Jared shook his head, holding onto Evan for dear life. "We can't lose him, Evan... I don't know what I'd do." He finally met his husband's gaze, unsurprised when he saw the tear-stains and bloodshot eyes. "Oh my god." He shoved his face back into Evan's shoulder.

"Shh," Evan pulled him closer, shutting his eyes. He held Jared there, tangling his fingers in his hair in a desperate attempt to comfort him. "I know."

But, the truth was, Evan didn't.

Evan didn't know whether or not he would ever see his son smile again. He didn't know whether or not he would ever see him again. He wasn't sore if he would have to say goodbye to half of his happiness, then and there.

He didn't know.

That's all he wanted, was to know.

He wanted to know why, he wanted to know how, he wanted to know if he was going to be okay.

But he didn't.

And that not knowing was killing him, eating away at every inch of his being, making it so difficult to keep his composure, even with his panicking tendencies. It was making his chest hurt, his breathing shallow. It was filling him with so much pain that he shoved down and swallowed. He did it for Jared.

Evan didn't care who looked. He didn't care who judged. He just had to keep Jared calm. He pressed a soft kiss to his husband's forehead, shutting his eyes. "I know."

—a/n—

Psa I will have a part two of this probably but I have jntense writers block so I'm sorry.

Y'all should hit me up on the Dear Evan Hansen amino my name is the same as my display name here (The Dankest)

I post these same oneshots in there so yeah.
Alright I need to post these to amino because I haven't posted in a week

Sorry for murdering your feelings.

I love you my Carcrashovercastyoungbloods

-Emily aka Foblvr