DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

wwiii au

Evan Hansen lived in a world where nothing truly existed except for hate and unrest, and in all honesty, it fucking killed him.

It all started over human rights, basic human rights that people refused to honor. Riots broke out, hate was spread to people, simply because of what they were... who they were. Soon people were trying to work with people outside of the United States, trying to figure out a explanation; but all that seemed to really come from the so called, solution, was more and more hate, simply because no one in the world wanted to bite the bullet and compromise.

He lived in a world where World War III wasn't just expected; it existed.

He was helping his mom at the hospital she worked at, when the first bomb was dropped. It was a state over, yet people were still rushed in. He had to help her in any way he could; any way she'd let him.

But it didn't last for long. Armies weren't just volunteers anymore. The system was back to draft, and to escape it, Evan had to abandon his mother and run to find shelter in his old high school.

Of course he found Alana Beck there. She seemed to be the only one who could keep herself in a school longer than she had to, but when she found Evan, both of them were beyond amazed.

"Alana, we have to keep moving."

"Evan, I can't just leave... not yet."

"I'm going with or without you, you know, so unless you wanna wait another month and a half for someone to come along and find you... I suggest you come with."

"Where are we even going, Evan?" She asked him aggressively.

"I don't know."

The two set off on their trip, having nothing with them but Evan's bag from the hospital, the clothes off their backs and the few weapons that Evan had made and found in abandoned homes. They walked miles each day, bearing the elements at night, only finding food with the occasional squirrel, and sometimes Even an abandoned house with goods.

They could do this, just the two of them, except—

"Help, someone, please!"

Evan glanced over at Alana, giving his companion a skeptical look, to which she gave a scared one in return. "Don't."

"I have a gun."

"Evan you fucking idiot."

Evan sprinted to the source of the sound, finding a large house at the end of a round about, two people standing in the front yard, a girl crouched over a boy, her hands pressing a damp rag to the boy's stomach.

But the girl stood up when she heard the boy, pulling a dagger out of her pocket and narrowing her eyes. "Who are you?"

"Evan." He answered her nervously, throwing his hands up in defense. "I heard you call for help. Are you... is he okay?"

She slowly slid the knife back into her boot, her hair in her face as she looked back down at the boy on the ground. "My brother was shot." She explained. "If you can't help then get lost."

Evan shook his head, reaching into his bag and pulling out a needle, some sighing wire, some gauze, rubbing alcohol, and tweezers. "Is he conscious?" He asked her.

"Yes." She frowned. "Be careful with him."

Evan nodded and crouched next to him. "Is there an exit wound?"

"Yeah, But it's tiny." She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "You said your name was Evan?"!She asked. "As in... Evan Hansen?"

He looked up at her in surprise, before he placed where he'd seen her. "Zoe... oh my god," he gawked, looking down at the boy again. "Shit, Connor?"

The reunion was well lived, and though Evan didn't have much anesthetic, if any, the pain knocked his friend out until he could finish the job.

Then the were back on the road, trying to find a place that the war hadn't ruined, and wasn't currently ruining. They couldn't get very far, walking around four miles a day, carrying Connor as he recovered. They had to keep moving, to find somewhere; some place that wasn't littered with radiation and bullet shells.

But the further they traveled, the less hope they were able to hold onto.

"Can we just..." Connor breathed, rolling his eyes at his sister's protective stance. "It's been a month and we've only gotten to the outskirts of the city. We need to rest." He gestured to a small mechanic shop on the corner. "Just for tonight. We can move out in the morning."

"You're such a fucking wimp," Zoe muttered.

And they did. They walked straight into that shop, expecting to find at least a roof to put over their heads, maybe a working sink or toilet. But what they found wasn't what they were expecting, and it was much less welcoming.

A gun click.

Zoe whipped her head around to find herself face to face with a pale boy, still a bit meaty despite the situation. He had oil and dirt on his face and his brown hair was stuck together. He wore khaki shorts, and a tank top, a large sweater draped over his shoulders.

But most importantly, he matched her stance, holding a gun up to her own. "I'd put it down, honeybunvh."

"You don't tell me what to do."

"I was here first. Put it down, and I won't fire," he growled, narrowing his eyes.

"Wait!" Evan called, looking around. "Wait I know this place." He let his eyes search around the building for a second, before it settled in. "This is Jared's dad's old place." He looked back at the boy with the gun, squinting to look at the shell that resembled what once was his friend. "Oh my god, Jared."

He lowered the gun and looked at all three of them, a gasp escaping his lips. "Holy shit," He squeaked. "Holy shit, Evan? Alana, Connor... Zoe?"

The five friends were at last reunited, after plenty had thought the others had died, or been drafted. Most figured out a gun, and learned how to treat people from Evan's skills. They never broke apart after. It was only the beginning of their journey, and no one knew how long it would take them to reach the end.