Dear Evan Hansen Oneshots

Treebros

Connor walked. He walked and he walked and he wasn't going to stop walking until he allowed himself to. There were tears on his face, but they weren't from being sad, heck, he was the opposite of sad, because Connor was going to be free. Connor was finally going to be free from all of the pain in his life, all of the shit he'd endured for no reason at all, and he was loving it. Connor was finally going to be happy. He was going to be happy.

Connor was done walking. He would never have to walk again. Never ever. Connor wouldn't have to walk or run or exercise or worry about not being good enough, because Connor was going to be free.

Connor stood at the edge of the bridge, a smile on his face, and it wasn't a sad smile, because Connor was not sad, he was happy. Connor was happy. For the first time in his life, Connor was happy. And yes, suicide was supposed to be a sad thing, it was supposed to be something that made you upset while you were reading about, or made your eyes watery and your nose get stuffed, but this was different. This was different because Connor was genuinely happy, not high, not drunk, but happy. He was happy. And that was what mattered.

Connor slowly let himself let go of the bridge, and Connor didn't fall, he flew. Yes, technically he was falling, but he was so close to freedom that he could almost taste it, so in this case, he was flying, and it felt amazing. He let out a joyful screech, almost too happy.

But all good things come to an end, because Connor didn't in fact land in the water. He landed on something soft. Connor slowly opened his eyes. He was on a boat, a pile of blankets and pillows below him. All of the happiness left his body, because he was not in fact free. Barely feeling Evan sobbing in his shoulder, Connor's eyes filled with sad tears because he was not in fact free.

And Connor cried, because he would never, in fact, be free.