Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One day, for no particular reason except impulse and boredom, Connor went to an online chat forum. The way it worked is you picked an interest to talk about, it matched you up with a random person, then you talked.

Now Connor was heavily internet experienced, given he was only 13. His parents didn’t care much for technology. So Connor has one account that his parents can check, a secret one they don’t know about, and another just for an extra layer of security.

To keep them out of his chatting he switches accounts. Connor Murphy is now Matthew McGregor, a full name and theme change is an elaborate set up in case the parents do find the secret account.

Now it was as easy as typing a nick name, sitting in his bed, and picking an interest. He chose video games.

On the other side of town a young Evan prepared for a chatting quest of his own. He was running his dad’s old Laptop with possibly the oldest software that can still function.

He found an anonymous chat forum, and his parents never checked the laptop. They didn’t really care enough, or know enough to be concerned what Evan did at 13 on a computer.

He had just came into a new game. It was an action rpg but Evan spent most of his times in the lovely rendered forests, and picking apart some of the code.

Evan wanted to make a game. He wasn’t quite sure what about but he wanted to make one, so he was trying.

So he clicks video games and goes into chat.

XxConnor_MxX|

yo

what video games do u play?

._.Evan._.|

uhh

mc and this new game

rise of goblins or smth

idk i play for the game code and tree 

renders

In his house Connor scoffed. “Tree renders?” He asked aloud to himself.

XxConnor_MxX|

that makes u sound like a nerd

._.Evan._.|

yea but im like

a cool nerd

because im learning coding and 

studying rendering in order to code

my very own game

XxConnor_MxX|

what kind game

*kinda

?

._.Evan._.

uh idek yet 

;-;

Evan nervously traced his hands over the keys. Hoping there would be more of a conversation.

XxConnor_MxX|

maybe i could help

i play rise of the troll all the time

if thats the kinda game ur going

for

Evan smiled wide, but his fingers circled the keys and he didn’t know what to type. On one hand he’d love someone to help him out, on the other hand this could be a sweaty 37 year old man ready to kidnap him.

._.Evan._.|

first i need to know how old you

are

XxConnor_MxX|

im 13

hbu?

Evan bit his nails, suddenly realizing there was no way to confirm age online. He couldn’t just look at Connor and say: hey wait a minute you don’t look 13.

XxConnor_MxX|

yo evan

yo

yo

nerddddd

hurry up

im boreddddd

Evan typed back a response.

._.Evan._.|

im also 13

we should add each other

somewhere we can send pictures

for proof of age

He realized how creepy that sounded, less of an invitation for both of their safety and more of a: I’m gonna send you an unsolicited dick pic.

XxConnor_MxX|

yea sure

you wanna just do email?

i dont have any social media

Now technically that wasn’t a lie. All of Connor’s social medias are run under a different name. Just in case he wants a prestigious job, or a normal job at a shitty place, he can’t have a rant about that place pop up under his name.

Plus emails were easier to discard of, less of a long lasting trace than most social medias. 

Also, a lot safer if this Evan guy sends some weird or gross things.

._.Evan._.

ok sure

whats ur email?

ill email u :)

Connor sends over his actual hidden email and in another tab opens up gmail to check.

About 10 minutes and about 10 page reloadings the first email pops up. Connor realized why it took so long, this Evan guy wrote a lot.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Hey

______________

Hi Connor! 

This is Evan from the chat site. If this isn’t the same Connor I talked to then I’m sorry for bothering you and I hope you don’t mind!

If you are Connor then hi! You were right about what the game’s called! Maybe we could play together sometime? Sorry if that’s very forward.

And for my game I don’t know if I want an action rpg, maybe just an open world rpg would be better. However I’ll take any and all help! You don’t have to or anything by the way, I wasn’t really looking for help I was just trying to come up with a conversation topic so it’s totally up to you!

That’s all.

Sincerely,

               Evan :)

Connor read over the entire email and laughed. It was formatted like he was emailing a teacher. 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

yo

______________

dw abt it bro its me

also ill help u make any game im bored and dont have a lot of things to keep me busy lets do it

Just to tease Connor signs off with “Sincerely, Me” poking light fun at how Evan wrote the email.

Connor attached a picture of himself and captioned it: “Oh also proof of age btw.” Connor wasn’t sure if he looked 13, or how 13 year olds really looked.

He was at school, but mostly not in class. Connor spent most of his time in the bathroom, or nurse’s office, or maybe the guidance counselor if he had to.

Connor also, thanks to the hearts of his teachers and the manipulative power of tears, is passing all his classes. He gets extensions and he kinda just bullshits his way through.

Evan smiles at the quick response. He looked at Connor and thought he was just the coolest. He had dark brown hair that was wavy and medium length.

Evan realized now he had to respond with a picture of himself, which he really didn’t want to do.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Yay!

______________

I’m glad you’re willing to help me out!

You look really cool by the way!

Here’s a picture of me:

Evan’s cursor lay over the send button, his fingers not pressing on the mousepad. He scrutinized his own face before giving in and just sending it.

He spun away in the little spinny chair he was in and groaned. He was still in his clothes from the day even though it was late. He had been so caught up in schoolwork and such he had forgotten to change.

He walked off to change.

Connor’s eyes trailed over the somewhat familiar face. Where had he seen this guy? He had done a reverse google search which proved that Evan wasn’t lying about it. So Connor was stumped.

He knew this kid, he swore he did. But staring at him, he didn’t know who Evan was.

He shrugged, typed up a response. He said Evan looked cool too, then he bid him goodnight. After Connor was sure it was sent he closed his laptop and tucked it under his pillow before laying down to go to bed.

Chapter Text

Connor’s P.O.V

I woke up. Wow, awesome. In case you can’t read sarcasm, that was sarcasm.

I grab out a pen I had. If I have to be alive might as well be high. After a few hits and a little more laying down I was sufficiently convinced that I wasn’t going. Or that I was at least going to protest every step of the way.

First day of senior year. Hooray. I give so many fucks. When I sit up to change I feel the high and I allow a small relaxed smile. I get changed.

I’m still not going. My mom can’t make me. I get a little higher, for the hell of it. My mom stares at me the second I walk out of my room into the kitchen.

“Mom, I don’t feel too good. I can’t go.” She pauses the eggs she’s scrambling, and to my dislike she presses the back of her wrist on my forehead. 

“You don’t have a fever.” She pulls her hands away and goes back to cooking. “Yeah well I’d still rather not go in this state.”

I slump myself at the table. “Besides, there's always tomorrow.” My dad read a newspaper and my sister stared at her phone, paused only by a nasty look she threw when I sat down.

I set my head down on the table. “It’s your senior year Connor, you are not missing the first day.”

I lift my head up. “I already said I’d go tomorrow.” My dad grumbled.

“He doesn’t listen! Look at ‘im, he’s probably high .” There was a thick layer of disappointment in his voice that was hard to ignore. 

“He’s definitely high.” Zoe says, not even looking at me. I roll my eyes at her as my mom begins to speak.

“I don’t want you going to school high Connor!” I offer a snarky smile and stand up.

“Perfect, then I won’t go! Thanks, Mom.” I walk off to my room. I’d end up at school one way or another. Deep down I was a good son, not that anyone would see that on the surface. I still obeyed my mom and (most of the time) showed my parents respect. I just have to keep my defenses up or they’ll tear me to shreds. Even if it doesn’t matter, it never matters. No matter how hard I fight it I always lose.

I hear complaints about me. I love having thin walls because then when they try to talk shit behind my back I hear it, and I know, and it hurts less now when they say it to my face.

I shove some stuff in my backpack, hit the pen again and then stuff it in a deep pocket on my pants.

“Connor?” It was my mom. “Connor, please don’t do this today. Please just… Go to school and try to stay?”

“You don’t want me going to school high, remember?” I shove my feet into my shoes, barely taking the time to tie the laces. 

I swing my bag on and listen. “I don’t want you to be high at all Connor! School is important! Zoe will leave without you, and then you’ll have to walk. You have two minutes.”

I open the door and walk past her, my hand on the pen in my pocket, the other holding my phone. 

I joined Zoe in the car for the ride to school. I always end up going to school unless I’m actually sick.

“You even smell like weed. God are you ever sober?” A lot of our conversations were like this now. Antagonistic and tiring. 

“Why the fuck would I ever wanna be sober in a house with more yelling then a soap opera?” 

Zoe scoffs and rolls her eyes as we make a left. “Yeah well nobody yells unless you made them. Maybe if you actually tried to do anything they wouldn’t have to yell at you.”

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it Zoe. Just shut up and fucking drive. I’m not the only problem in that dysfunctional family.” I try my hardest not to raise my voice too loud, given I’m not trying to get in a crash.

“Yeah but you’re the most prominent one Connor. You’re doing drugs, you’re failing school. You’re acting like a future under the bridge junkie who whores themselves out for a bit of drug money.”

I don’t look at her, or respond, or really actually hear. I tuned her out after asking her to be quiet. She was saying more, I’m sure she was singing songs of my issues and praise to mom and dad.

I don’t hate my parents, but I also don’t like to be around them. It’s always fights and screams and my dad giving that sigh where I know he gave up on me.

He gave up on me when I was 14, now he just sighs. He used to give speeches when I messed up. Then I messed up a few too many times and he stopped beating a dead horse and gave up the monologues.

It’s not fun or easy to have someone give up on you. So I gave up on him right back. My mom doesn’t know when to give up otherwise she would stop draining herself trying.

I’m a dead man walking and she’s just a weight chained to my leg. I don’t know exactly when Zoe gave up on me but it feels like she did.

These lectures seem more an excuse to kick me when I’m down rather than to help me onto the right track. 

I wonder where taco nights, and bedroom sleepovers turned into throwing plates and screaming matches where nobody wins. I wonder where the smiles we used to share turned into the glares we hurdle at each other.

I look at Zoe, mouth open and spewing words that feel angry. I smile. I’m not fully sure why, but I do and I just look away. Some plan not fully rendered felt worth smiling about.

Chapter Text

Evan’s P.O.V

I wasn’t exactly excited to be going to school. I wished so heavily to do online highschool or homeschooling. 

In the halls there are a bunch of eyes, and people, who are alive, who I’m probably bothering with my awkward noises and looks and self. 

I’m bigger than most. I don’t just mean I’m fat, not that that isn’t a factor. I have broad shoulders, and a boxy figure. Yet somehow I’m smaller than them all.

I try to be, anyway. My old choir teacher told me I reminded him of his great dane, Lucky, who tried to hide under a baby blanket a quarter of his size whenever lightning struck.

I had letters I was supposed to write to myself, and I worked on them, but I hadn’t finished one, or at least one I was willing to let my therapist see.

But even though I wasn’t exactly jazzed about going, I was still excited to see Connor. 

We found each other online and decided to meet up in person at a local park. He recognized me from lunch and the rest was history.

He was one of the only friends I had ever had. He was a great friend too. He listened well, he was mean sometimes but he always made up for it. 

He was there when I broke my arm. I get reminded of the sharpie in my pants, and how I was meant to get signatures. It was for my mom. I wanted to prove I was okay, I had friends and I am trying. None of that is fully the truth, but it would ease some of her stress and I’d do anything for her to stop looking like she’s dying.

I’m excited to move out. 

Not excited for being on my own. At least with my mom I always have someone around. And with my mom she encourages me to try.

It’s a bit pushy and annoying sometimes, but she’s trying. 

When I move out I won’t have that.

But she won’t have to push anymore. I think my mom will be better off once I’m out of the house.

I may even cut contact and give her less worry. I’d find a way to survive.

And when I move out I can do online college, and me and Connor plan to move in together. To keep each other sane and alive was what he said. I like that.

Connor feels like the kind of person that would be perfect to be my friend if I was better. Right now we feel out of whack to me.

He’s cool, and he looks better than me, he’s rough around the edges but he’s still a diamond. 

I am Evan Hansen. Nothing special. I’m not “clump of dirt” nothing, but I owe that all to Connor.

I make it up to him by usually paying for what we do, occasional rides to places. We rarely talked in school last year on account of only having one period together where the teacher sat us fairly far apart.

Connor is seen as a social outcast. Not in the same way as me though.

I’m an outcast in that people generally aren’t around me, or don’t want to be around me. That I am less than nothing, that I do exist but it’d probably be better for me if I didn’t.

Connor has a lone wolf type of energy. And while that is cringey to think it’s true, and it’s the type that drives girls crazy. The girls that think they can fix him that is.

He’s intimidating so nobody spreads rumors or looks at him like they do me. He’s loud so people do look at him, which is confident. And he speaks his mind. 

But he is still an outcast.

I think me and him are a weird pair. I like to be his friend though.

He makes me feel pretty cool.

I enter the school, and like a great dane with a baby blanket I hide. I’m hunched, trying to grow shorter. I squish myself against the lockers, only moving so nobody at their locker feels weird.

See if Connor actually showed up, he heavily implied he wasn’t going to school today, he and I now had 4 periods together, two of which being consecutive study halls.

Through a lot of cheating Connor had passed his Junior year, and therefore had like two actual classes to do his senior year.

I reached the library doors, where he said he’d be if he came to school. 

He was walking up. His hands were in his pockets, and I could tell by the way his eyes looked he was stoned.

He offered a small smile and I smiled back.

“Hey Connor.” He smiles at me.

“Hey Evan. What’s up this week.” 

I usually gave reports on local activities as choices for our hang outs.

Connor looked amused as he huffed air out of his nose while I scrambled to get my sentences in order. I had gone all summer without the reports.

I answered him finally. “There’s a uh– m-movie screening happening in the pa-park every night this week. Some r-roller rink uh– party thing happening Thursday, and school dance this– uh, Saturday.”

Connor nodded. “I’m busy most of this week.”

I nodded back. “I’m pretty busy today. But I think the movie screening sounds fun? I-If you wanna.”

Connor smiled wide. “Yeah of course. What time?”

“Uh they have a screening of 4-6 t-tomorrow?” His smile falters a touch.

“Tomorrow?” He seems to be thinking.

“Yeah. I-If tomorrow doesn’t work we could do it l-later in the week?”

Connor shakes his head at my offer. “No, no. I’m just- I was thinking maybe today woud work.”

I try not to let the dejection on my face. “Oh, yeah th-that’s okay. I can’t d-do today because of something with my mom otherwise I would have done today. We can always do s-some other time or something.” I try to swallow down a lump of panic that had formed in my throat.

“No. Let’s do it tomorrow. I’m actually not busy. I– uh, I can push back the other plans.”

I was red in the face, this was very very embarrassing. “You d-don’t have to Connor, i-it’s fine really!” 

“No, Evan. Tomorrow, 4-6, movie in the park. It’s a plan.” I felt bad for bothering Connor, felt like I guilt tripped him a bit on accident, but he was smiling and seemed so sure.

I smiled back, it was small, barely noticeable, but I did. “If you’re sure it’s okay.” I offer him an out once again.

“Yeah, sounds like fun actually and tomorrow’s warmer anyways. The bell’s about to ring. You oughta get to class. See ya around.” And with that Connor made a beeline to the bathroom.

The bell had three more minutes, which was just enough time for me to stumble into the correct classroom, mutter an apology and sit down.

Chapter Text

3rd person

Connor blew smoke from his mouth directly at the panel they put up to pretend they had a vape detector, just to taunt them. Who was he taunting exactly and why? Connor wasn't sure, but he blew another lung full for good measure.

Connor was worried about the idea of tomorrow. Today didn’t seem like the kind of day you survive.

Already the day felt heavy, his head basically just a layer of fog. The world was foggy, he was foggy, everything felt foggy, felt suffocating.

Connor felt dead. And as bad as it must sound, Connor loved feeling dead. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to be dead or just didn’t like being alive.

He was fixated on the intersection of four tiles, the top ones were over a bit and not even on top the bottom ones so the grout looked weird.

Connor traced it absentmindedly. He most definitely did not want to be alive, that was for certain.

Tomorrow? 4pm? Connor has to stay alive for 20 more hours? He had to go home and be alive for it?

Connor did not very well like the idea of living, but he had already agreed on tomorrow. One last hurrah.

Connor was being nice today, much for the same reason children are good before christmas. You can be a total sinner all days of the year, but if you’re extra good christmas week the ol’ fat man still gives you shit.

Connor wasn’t expecting to nice his way into heaven, suicide was against the ten commandments. Thou shalt not kill, but he did kill and when you’re dead you can’t repent.

Connor wasn’t religious though, he just felt it a fitting similarity.

Maybe there was a God, maybe it was a he, hell maybe it truly was a flying spaghetti monster. Connor didn’t know, Connor didn’t care.

Connor knew he couldn’t bs his way to heaven, so why was he being nice?

Because what else do you do when you’re dying?

‘You’re not dying dumbass. Get a grip. You have at least until 6 tomorrow.’ Connor forced himself out of the high trance and wandered slowly out of the bathroom to his first period.

He didn’t bother with an excuse, he just sat down and got his phone out under the table.

When a kid asked to sit next to Connor, Connor went out of character. Nothing crazy, he just looked at the kid and shrugged. “Sure.”

Normally he would have glared them off, enjoyed some peace. But he was dying and no dead man knew peace.

He didn’t know why saying he was dying was so easy, he wasn’t dying. He felt like it, but this time would be the same as all the others.

Whatever he tries will fail without any hindrance on his existence, he’ll feel guilty for trying and worse for failing then he’ll get over it a bit before trying again.

The weed in his system made his face tingly. His limbs were numb, he felt like the world was made of clay. His eyes were heavy and hot, and his mouth was dry.

He felt hungry, but in the way you feel like bees are buzzing in your throat after you get high. Or maybe his pen was burning out and it was actually killing Connor.

His hand patted his pocket without thought. 

Because dying men always indulge.

It was that final time that Connor thought about himself dying that he realized, maybe he was dying, maybe he knew something, maybe something else will happen this time.

Though Connor had previously embraced the suicidal ideation his heart was suddenly wrenched by a fear.

What if this time it works? And I don’t get to wake up? What if I can actually die, be done with everything?

The panic wasn’t aimed directly at those thoughts, it was aimed more so at the fact Connor didn’t oppose the thoughts.

And for a mortifying moment Connor realized that he was dying, dying because he wanted to be dead, he wanted to keep dying. 

And then it was gone. The panic freed his heart and mind as a wave of weed pulsed painfully through Connor’s head with his heart.

Now Connor just felt nothing. He couldn’t tell if it was the bad nothing, the vacuum nothing that consumes you inside out and is there because you’re bottling. Or the okay nothing. There is no good nothing.

You’re never completely numb and fully okay. Not for Connor anyways.

He decided to let this time be okay nothing, to be nothing because he was high. This time he got to not think about it, this time he got to be okay.

Because dying men always indulge.

Chapter Text

Evan chatted as if he couldn’t say enough words, like he was competing for a fastest speaking trophy.

Connor understood every three words, so he ended up with a mind full of questions that dissipated if he tried to single one out.

Connor admits he had done too much weed. But he had a new motto. If he was really dying he might as well go out with a bang.

If Connor Murphy was going to disappear he would be a star. If Connor Murphy was going to disappear he would explode and ripple the school. If Connor Murphy was going to disappear he was gonna make it worth his while.

But like a star nobody would care. They’d look at the explosion in awe, then ignore the empty place of the star, where outer space is a bit colder now, a bit more empty.

So he was nice. He didn’t tease Evan, he just gave genuine attention and showed as much interest as his inebriated mind was capable of.

Of course Evan picked up. Connor had held the door for someone and thanked them when they picked up his pen off the floor. 

Not abnormal for a person but for Connor it was just enough to feel different. And Evan didn’t like change, Evan liked when things were predictable, so Connor’s dying indulgence struck sparks of panic.

“Everything okay man?” Evan asks calmly, like it was a normal thing that Evan does all the time.

“Everything is great man.” Connor smiled. “I think I finally made sense of my life.” 

Evan looked hopeful. “Yeah?”

Connor nodded, seemingly very proud of himself for it. “Yeah. I figured out how I’m gonna do this, how I’ll get through.”

Evan smiled. “That’s great Connor.” He worried his words came off less genuine than he was trying. He wasn’t a master at words, he was hardly a novice.

He hoped the look on his face said it all.

“Yeah.” Connor lost focus in his eyes. He looked tired, high, and calm. It was a change in the forecast. Connor was usually like a cloudy day, the chance of rain (yelling or anger) looming around the corner waiting for something.

A drop in temperature, a little more condensation, the wrong kind of wind and Connor’s face could turn into a hurricane.

Evan had a hard time relating the anger he saw so commonly in Connor to the Connor that he knew .

Evan stood eye of the storm most times, stuck out the whole thing. On more than one occasion the screaming has turned to full on break down.

One time Connor had been screaming and crying, bloodying his fists on a poor brick wall. He was screaming about how much he wanted to be dead.

Evan found him right as Connor was about to break his knuckles.

And the look he gave Evan looked much closer to fear than anger. And it was gone in a flash, replaced by a façade.

Connor showed no signs of any of that. He had a lazy smile, no anger, no screaming crying, no wanting death. Connor looked like a normal happy guy.

But Evan was unsettled by something he couldn’t quite place. He was searching his face and he made eye contact with Connor.

Connor has zoned out while staring in Evan’s general direction.

He found what had him all in a twist. Connor’s smile didn't quite reach his eyes, in his eyes he looked long gone. Evan pawned it off on the weed.

But deep down they both knew the deadness, the dullness, the lifelessness of his eyes were something further than a lingering addiction.

And like that it was gone, Connor came to, and put some life and shine back in his eyes.

Connor had a habit of doing that, realizing what he’d shown was not normal and adjusting himself back into the carefully crafted characterization of himself he often played.

Connor was two things. He was a monster, and he was dead. That’s all he felt like. He wants to die, but he doesn’t want to be remembered. Positive or not. So he was gonna make up for his shit, then he was out.

“Evan?” Connor’s voice was smaller than he would have liked.

“Yeah?” Evan matches Connor’s tone, leaning in to give the conversation a more private secluded feeling.

“You ever wish you were, like, some type of animal?”

Evan shrugged. “Sometimes. I think it’d be better to live in the woods, free without school and money and shit.”

Connor nodded. “I wish I was a bird. I think the world would look so pretty from that high.”

Evan started chatting about some alternative options that Connor only feigned half-hearted interest at. He was too busy peering out of the window at a crow he swore was making eye contact.

He’s pretty sure he read that one crow is an ominous warning of death or something like that.

He was imagining looking over trees and lakes, feeling wind blow over him.

In an instant the innocent idea shifted to a vivid feeling of Connor falling. The wind was still whipping him, the views below gorgeous, but he was getting closer.

He was able to snap himself out of the thought, it was intrusive and not welcome. 

Connor tuned back in to Evan’s speaking and they discussed some things, but Connor never really stopped thinking about falling.

Chapter Text

The day skipped by in a muddled blur as Connor dazedly took in the world through a kaleidoscope lens in his mind.

Every light was blinding, every color so nauseatingly bright. And all at the same time everything was yellowed out like an old picture from the 80’s.

Connor wondered if he had laced his pen and forgotten or something. He was pretty sure he was tripping harder than he should have been.

He didn’t feel like he was dying anymore, because he didn’t even really feel.

Suddenly cold air woke him up, his consciousness snapped shut in his body.

Connor, fighting through fog to think, looked around. He remembered he was supposed to meet Zoe at her car.

He did just that. He walked normally, a bit slower than usual, but he wasn’t a stumbling fool.

At the car Zoe was inside, tapping away at her phone. For a second Connor considered just leaving.

If he turned around and walked before Zoe could even see him he could probably make it far away enough to give him time to get further. 

He could leave it all now, then Zoe wouldn’t have a frown always on her face.

Connor wore out his dad so much he gave up, his mom is tired because of him, and his sister never smiled if she so much as heard his name. Now Connor was convinced.

He was dying because he wanted to die. And he was going to burn out like a star. He was going to fix everything and then he could be done.

So Connor didn’t run. He opened the door and got in quietly.

Zoe only looked to make sure it was Connor, then she waited. After school Connor was usually pretty easy to piss off, but he was too high to feel anything.

“What?” He offers lamely, pushing his a bit of his hair back from his face.

“I’m waiting for some kind of explosion.” Connor chuckled but she was serious.

“No I’m serious, be an asshole now so I don’t crash, explode now.” Connor shook his head.

“You haven’t said a mean thing since the car this morning, you nodded at me in the hall, something is up with you.”

Connor shakes his head again. “Cus’ I’ve figured my life out Zoe.”

Zoe now shook her head. “No, you’ve gotten high and are on the verge of a breakdown.”

Connor sighs, leaning back in the seat. “Zoe, for once I’m being okay. Will you let me be okay?”

Connor looked over, his sister staring at him. She was scrutinizing every shadow of her brother’s face.

Zoe had not in fact given up on Connor. She wanted to but felt too large an attachment to the monster that grew out of her brother, because she wanted to believe her brother was still in there.

She couldn’t give up on him, Connor was her brother, she had no choice.

Zoe pondered if maybe, by some miracle, her brother was saved, and that he had actually sorted his shit. But she saw his glassy eyes and knew he wasn’t really there. He was stoned beyond belief.

Through the glassy fog of his eyes she saw a light, it was small and it flickered and it scared her.

To see what she thought was long dead be reignited? She felt scared. Like seeing an abandoned lighthouse suddenly on and functioning. But the small child in her felt hope, nothing but hope.

She clung to the hope. “Okay. But if you say a single mean thing I’m pulling over and you’re walking.” She was half joking, half fully ready to dump him out in a snap.

She began to drive and Connor sat in his seat. He was quiet, he smiled, he didn’t say a single mean thing.

When they got home Connor even thanked Zoe for the ride.

Inside was different, because his parents were already yelling. His mom and dad exchanged harsh words thrown quickly, shot out of their mouths like bullets. That soured him, his defenses starting to build to avoid getting hurt.

It was one of those little “Connor isn’t doing anything with his life” spats, where his dad so loudly critiqued every grade Connor got and meticulously cracked down on Connor’s worst insecurities.

His mom would argue back that Connor is trying, and that he’ll pick up slack eventually and that if Connor has gone awry it’s his dad’s fault because his dad isn’t giving him a stable and supportive father figure.

These spats usually end up with Connor’s dad on the couch for a bit or Connor’s mom leaving for the night. Sometimes, if intercepted early enough, they just drop it.

Connor broke up the fight. He walked straight in between his parents, into the kitchen, and started making cereal.

“Excuse you?” His dad huffed angrily. “Me and your mother were having a conversation.”

“No, you were screaming your heads off at each other about how much of a disappointment I am.” Connor snapped before remembering his star mentality, his week before Christmas mask.

“I understand if you think I suck. You don’t have to yell at your wife about it. Quit screaming at my mom about me, cut the middle man, suck it up, and just say it to me.”

Connor looked at his dad dead in the eyes for the first time in a while. His dad stared back.

As had become common Connor’s dad just sighs. But much to Connor’s surprise he starts to speak.

“You have such a good life. I can get you an entry level job with my connections, your mom can get you promoted with hers! You could buy your own car, but you wouldn’t even have to because we could afford to cover it for you.”

“But you do nothing. You sit, rotting away, addicted to some high you get from smoking. You don’t try to make friends, you don’t try anything.”

Connor had to pretend like this didn’t hurt, it did, but he was going to go out as a star one way or the next. So he swallowed back the tears hard and pressed his jaw up, to lock it and stop any emotion from screening on his face.

“Your mother always says you're trying, but what are you trying? Does it honestly take all your energy just to fucking survive? What the hell is wrong with you Connor?”

Connor’s dad’s voice grew louder, and anger became apparent, he was now turning and jabbing his fingers at Connor and being expressive with his hands, flailing them about. Connor didn’t flinch, not outwardly at least.

“You are never going to do anything with your life if you keep acting like this!” Connor’s mom was covering her mouth, crying quietly. She tried to pull her husband and stop him, but it wasn’t working.

“You are going to spend the rest of your life in our basement making our lives miserable!” Connor stared at his dad, trying to keep a level head. Something in Connor sobered up and now he was putting up defenses faster than Connor could sober up, and incredibly angry that his father could do this. Not to him but his mother, who’s quiet sad noises and desperate tugging did little to calm the rage Connor felt.

‘Like a star.’ Connor repeated in his head ‘Like a star.’ He continued the chant. Connor wished he could explode right then.

Now his dad was off about how he wished Connor would try, accusing him of not trying, it was all about trying.

Connor was always trying. He was trying to stop yelling, trying to stop smoking, trying to be a star. Connor was trying.

But that’s not what he said, because when his father cried: “You’re not even trying to talk!” There fell a silence.

Now he could have some magic reconnection moment, share his feelings and shit. But he wasn’t building a galaxy, he was exploding a star.

“Do you feel better?” Is what Connor asks. His dad is huffing and his face is red.

“I feel better now that I know that you know what I think.”

“We have thin walls and you’re always yelling. I knew you gave up on me and I know you think I'm useless.”

Connor’s dad’s face sort of dropped with his words. 

“Was that all you had to say?” Connor’s hands were gripping the sides of his cereal bowl, the weed was suppressing just enough for him to hold composure.

His dad nods, so Connor nods back, gives a curt: “Okay.” and walks off to his room. No yelling, no holes in the wall, no mother crying and pulling on arms.

The star had begun to explode. His family was certainly acting that way. Like they got a forecast that said: Hey this star you live near is going to explode soon!

Even once he is in his room, there is silence in the house. Connor didn’t like silence so he put on headphones, blasted music, smoked some more, finished his cereal and began to paint his nails.

‘I wonder how long the nail polish will stay on after I die.’ A painfully clear thought peeks through like a bright sun through Connor’s muddy rainy brain. He groaned with the weight of being consciously alive.

Suddenly he wanted to call Evan. He was bored, Connor was bored. And acting as though he didn’t have a semi-finalized suicide plan. But that second part was irrelevant.

He then remembered Evan was busy, he said so himself. He cringed at his earlier obvious reluctance to Evan’s invitation, the poor guy started acting like a fish out of water.

It was a good idea, Connor just wasn’t sure being alive was a good idea.

He figured he’d just green out all his problems. ‘Tomorrow night,’ he promised to himself. ‘A star will explode. And nobody will notice the dark or the cold because there are other stars to focus on.’

Connor was trying to figure out who knew him and how he could undo that. Reverse all ideas and be gone in a flash.

Connor nodded his head to a beat and mouthed the words while layering on some polish. Music going like normal, like his mind isn’t riddled with death wishes. 

He felt rather than heard a knock. He paused his song and looked at his door, the non-star part of him getting angry.

Then he smoothed his face. His mom walked in.

“Connor?” Connor tucked the pen under his blanket discreetly as his mom closed the door. 

She turned and looked at Connor. “Your father is wrong." Her voice was shaky with her tears. "You don’t make our lives miserable. Okay? A-And you’re going to do wonderful things." Connor kept a blank face, and so she continued.

"He has an old school idea of what trying means. You’re doing just fine! Connor you just need to stop smoking," Connor suppressed an eye roll 'Right. Because that's all that's wrong, me smoking. Nothing else.' Connor locked his jaw again to remove all emotions from his face. "and you’ll be all better.” She pauses. “He’s wrong, you will do amazing things Connor.”

Connor looked at her and shook his head. But stars don’t make disagreements, so he said: “Okay.”

He kept his face void of emotion and bit his tongue. 

It was clear his mother was conflicted. On one hand she sensed the trouble there was, when the forest goes silent that is never a good sign. On the other hand there was peace, for once talking to Connor wasn’t a tidal wave of mixes of anger and sadness of screeching and raw throats.

She wanted to ask, to stop the silence of the forest, but in that moment, that fateful moment she didn’t, she figured she could better handle a monster than some large storm.

She didn’t know it wasn’t a matter of what she could handle but what he could. And a night alone in a silent forest was the seal on an envelope with Connor’s death certificate.

She nodded back. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Time was bleary. Connor had spent the past few hours in conversation with Evan after the movie. At home he made dinner for the family, set the table, and got them drinks.

Everyone was on edge, like Connor might flip at any second. It took a bit before they started to pretend it was normal.

That was a while ago. Now Connor was the only person awake, his only company a cheap bottle of booze. 

Connor wasn’t in his house. He left the second he knew everyone was asleep, and he walked, sipping from the spicy stomach burning liquid.

He was going to get crossfaded. He had prepared those around for the star to explode, now he just had to explode it.

Connor remembered Evan. He hoped so wholeheartedly that Evan would be okay.

Connor took a deep drink. His only other company rattled in his pocket. He brought Advil. If he was going out, there was going to be a bang.

Connor would never flicker or fade, he would burn out and explode.

Connor didn’t want anybody to know him, but he wanted to make sure people knew of him. Maybe. That's what he wanted at the start, now he just was glad he could finally stop the cycle of trying and it never being enough.

Connor had found a bridge to sit on. The sky was dark, but the sun, still two hours from rising, lit up and illuminated the East part of the sky.

Maybe he’d watch the sunrise before he exploded, say goodbye, have a star watch a star die. Be born into the sky as he died. A star birth and death all at once.

All Connor knew is that it was weirdly and pathetically poetic and that he’d love to have his last sight be a sunrise.

However, after a few more sips he started feeling lonely. So he took a few of the pills, he didn’t count but it was more than he thought he should. Then he chugged some of the booze. And now he was cold, and well he was only 10 minutes from his house, he could go grab a jacket and make it back before sunrise.

That wasn’t the issue, the issue was that the world was swirling and any coherence or intent to walk in a straight line wobbled out of him. 

The issue is that he was drawn to the edge to see everything from up high.

The issue was the railing was old and corroded and it fell with any weight.

The issue was that Connor had tripped into it.

The issue however, in Connor’s mind, was that now he’ll never see the sunrise. But he looked out and like the vivid image earlier he was falling. 

Then he hit the water, and now he felt like a glow stick, he felt cracked and like hot pin and needle pain was seeping through him as force tossed him around. He felt cartoony searing pain, then none as he swam up for air. He heard shouts, he shouted back.

Now there was water in his lungs. What do you do when water is in your lungs? You cough it up and take a breath of air. Connor coughs but breathes in more water. Now he was drowning.

Connor didn’t know what to do when drowning so he tried screaming again.

When Evan was 9 he went to summer camp. At that summer camp there was an older kid who would shove him off the boat in the deep end and paddle away.

Evan did know what to do when drowning but Evan didn’t even know someone was drowning. Not yet, anyways.

For Evan this night felt like the opposite of drowning. The movie was good, he and Connor had a good conversation, and despite his earlier worries at Connor’s sudden change Connor seemed happy now. Connor seemed good!

Evan was in his room, picking away at a blanket while he messed around with code. He and Connor had almost finished the game they started making back when they first became friends.

When Evan became friends with Connor he used to say I’m sorry, a lot.

On one occasion Connor counted, using a timer on his phone. 

The phone alarm went off in the middle of Evan’s sentence. He pauses as Connor taps the phone screen with over emphasized movements.

“Evan, Evan, Evan…” Connor started, setting his phone down to tap the tips of his fingers together in a wave.

“Over the last hour, keep that time in mind, I counted just how many times you say ‘I’m sorry.’ Would you like to guess how many times that was?”

Evan went red, he did apologize a lot. “I dunno like… 10?”

Connor imitated a buzzer sound. “Wrong! It was 67 .” Connor’s mouth moves over emphatically.

Evan’s face only further colored and Connor set his phone face down. “You haven’t done anything wrong. At this point I assume you’re apologizing for existing all the time anyways, save us both the time and keep it in your head.”

Connor pretended he was annoyed with Evan always apologizing. Truth be told, it made him uncomfortable. Connor hated those words, and he felt sad when Evan apologized for no reason because that meant somewhere he learned the idea that he had to apologize for being alive.

Evan just nodded. 

Now Evan felt closer to Connor than anyone else. Evan apologized constantly for the bad parts, and Connor basically said: There are no bad parts. Or; Even if there are bad parts it's okay you don’t have to apologize. 

Now mark this in your calendar’s folks because this is a big event.

From this point forward Evan will think of events categorized by when they happened timeline wise to this one.

Before The Phone Call, The Phone Call, and after The Phone Call.

Evan sees his phone screen illuminate. Hoping by some magic it was Connor because Evan was thinking of him. 

Of course it was just Jared. He clicks accept. “Can I help you Jared?”

“Connor just tried to kill himself.”

Chapter Text

Evan almost laughed at the incredulity of it, then he didn’t because he knew that was something Connor would do, and laughing would be insensitive.

Evan says: “What?” But what he means is: Where is Connor? Is he alive? How do you know? Where are you?

I guess maybe Jared and Evan are friends, or maybe the universe just felt nice in sparring Evan some knowledge.

“I just saw a guy dive off old maple bridge and I saw the long dark hair, watched them crawl out of the water, and this dude looks like Connor fucking Murphy! Connor just tried to fucking kill himself!”

Evan stood up. Didn’t accomplish much but it felt right. How do you sit down with news like that?

“Did you call a fucking ambulance?” Evan manages out.

“No I decided to fucking kill someone– Of course I fucking called an ambulance! I called you second because I thought he was your boyfriend!”

Evan couldn’t tell if Jared was teasing or being genuine. It didn’t matter to Evan. Evan’s shoes were already on and he was out of the house and driving before he even responded to Jared.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Evan was focused on what was in front of him, the cars and the path and the trees and the way the sky is like a threat of the sun peeking.

How could the sun rise on a day like this? Evan didn’t know if Connor was alive and the world had the audacity to move on?

The only person Evan had ever felt close to, the only person that was actually a friend to Evan, is laying somewhere half dead, and the sun is taunting the world.

It would be unfair for a pretty sunrise on a day like this.

At the bridge Evan was out quick enough he was fairly sure he had forgotten to buckle. Now, he realized, he might be faced with the dead body of Connor.

Evan realized either he had hung up or Jared had hung up long ago, and the ambulance was arriving just as Evan did. He sped down before they could speak to him, because he'd rather check if the maybe-not-connor person is Connor, and if it is he wants to check if Connor is alive then have to talk to the emergency responders.

Evan saw Jared and what looked to be a passed out individual, with flowy, pretty, dark brown hair. So Evan stood there like an idiot, thoroughly going through every memory he had with Connor, and praying that the face on this person would not be Connor’s.

They assess the neck and spine state, determine it’s safe to flip the body who was hopefully not Connor.

And no matter how much Evan liked Connor’s face, Evan would not be looking at Connor easily for a while.

The paramedics began asking questions, stuff Evan luckily knew.

Any allergies? History of drug use or abuse? Any prescriptions? A billion of these questions. And Evan knew the answers, because Evan knew things about Connor. Still it took Evan more effort than most conversations.

EMS worked with police, they were authority figures. They were also probably smarter. So Evan’s speech abilities decreased, his palms were sweaty and he was nervous as he sputtered out answers.

As nervous as he was he didn’t once have to double guess an answer. Evan knew Connor. Because Evan had nobody else to know, and Connor was really easy to learn.

They work on getting him into the ambulance and contacting his family. 

However Evan did not for a second try or want to ride in the ambulance with Connor. Connor was not dead, but they said high chance he might and they’d have to use CPR. And Evan loved Connor and wanted to be there for him, but he also didn’t want to see his best and only friend die.

So Evan drove behind them with Jared in his passenger seat and he called his mom to tell her.

6:54 am, Wednesday, September 29th. Exactly 2 hours and 37 minutes after The Phone Call.

Evan was biting his nails and tapping on the floor. The rhythm was a thrum of panic in his veins that nobody else could hear and was going much too fast for him to have been still conscious if his heart actually beat this fast. 

His thoughts raced as his mom, Connor's parents, and Zoe showed up. 

He apologized a bunch of times, to his mom for waking her up, to the Murphy’s for his lack of knowledge or ability to help, to them for when he was zoned out, to them because he couldn’t calm his legs.

If you look in the waiting room of a hospital at 7:06 am on a Wednesday you might just find the Murphy’s and the Hansen’s meeting for the first time.

From an outside view there’s three women, two clearly older and one a teen and aside from one seeming a bit on edge they all look fine. An older man with not an ounce of emotion. And a teen boy shaking like he had a gun to his head and panicking like he heard the hammer click down.

Now that you’re updated on Evan let me update you on Connor, but first I must paint a picture.

Imagine you just belly flopped onto a pool of solid concrete. Then, the concrete turns to water. Now imagine you’re drowning. 

Now imagine all of that pain but put it’s past tense. That was Connor.

Because Connor wasn’t unconscious, he was simply unresponsive. He wasn’t sure if he was doing that intentionally or not.

The world was still fuzzy, and shiney in a gross way. He heard a few words and pieced together what else happened. 

It felt like he was a bouncing ball, and his consciousness was bouncing in and out of bounds. The world felt like a microwave beeping, sharp and quickly fading out and in, and he didn’t want it. Not microwaves or being in the world.

Connor moved his arm on his own accord. He had a button he could press for painkillers, so he did. He pressed it, and in surges that felt sugary coarse and sweet and smooth, the pain washed away and ebbed out of him.

There were words and noises and people and all of that made a headache that settled in the core of Connor’s mind. It ate away at him and cohesive sane thoughts. Connor didn’t even know how much time passed, he just knew he didn’t want to be alive.

Evan learns that Connor is still alive. 

When Evan hears it he sighs in relief and lines up the questions he has.

When Zoe hears it she deflates in hidden relief and listens intently, ready to ask about visitation.

And when Cynthia, Connor’s mother, hears the words “still alive” she breaks out into sobs. 

The other three had mild reactions. Evan loaded question after question, he didn’t want to be annoying but he wanted to know all he could so he could prepare himself for everything that could happen.

Connor was okay. He has two broken ribs and a mild concussion as well as “pulmonary edema” a term that really meant Connor had water in his lungs. As well as a few broken bones. They said that his use of alcohol, weed, and Advil had almost led to liver failure but they caught it in time to reverse some of the damages.

He was alive and the doctor said he could wake up at any time, and that everyone was free to visit during normal visitation hours.

So everybody left to get on with their lives. Visitation hours didn’t start for a full hour and they had jobs. 

Except Zoe and Evan who sit opposite each other. They’re both bunches of nerves, but Zoe is more skillful at hiding it.

However Evan was making her feel panicked with all his panicking. “Jesus christ dude can you chill out?”

Evan suddenly became stiff. “Sorry. Sorry .” He picked at his pants and bit at his cheeks,  half zoned out.

“Why do you care about Connor so much?” Zoe’s eyes narrowed on Evan when she asked the question.

“He’s my only friend.”

“Oh.”

There was a long pause before she continued her reply, “That’s kinda sad.”

“What do you mean?”

“You only have one friend and you’re stuck with Connor.”

“I think Connor is cool.”

“Connor is a monster.”

“Connor isn’t a monster, Connor is misunderstood.”

“Connor is manipulating you probably, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him have a relationship besides for his gain.”

Evan paused to pick and flick a pill off his pants.

“Your brother is in a hospital bed because he tried to kill himself… And you’re shit talking to his best friend?”

There was silence. That moment set the mood for the next 45 or so minutes they had until Connor was visitable. 

Evan was upset with Zoe and Zoe confused with Evan.

Last she checked Connor didn’t have friends, Connor wasn’t all buddy buddy and nice with people. Especially not people from their school. So for this guy to show up out of nowhere, and he was (as far as she knew) there when Connor tried? 

Hell what if this Evan kid actually tried to kill her brother?

She knew what it actually was causing skepticism. Because if Connor had a friend that meant he was capable of being nice. That meant that Connor being mean to her wasn’t just something Connor did to everyone. It meant he could have been nice with Zoe.

If Connor had a friend she had to accept he was an actual monster, and that her hope backfired, and that Connor chose to cut her out.

How was she supposed to refrain from mourning Connor? He hasn’t even flatlined and on unspeakable metaphorical levels Connor, Zoe’s brother, was dead.

Zoe seriously wondered if Connor was nice on accident once and Evan got attached, if maybe it was a fluke. But Evan seemed more worried every second, he seemed too genuine to be an accident.

Chapter Text

Connor’s P.O.V

I jolted as I finally felt like I finished my fall and I felt a heartbeat pulse pain in my ribs. I feel for the button groaning.

I had only two thoughts: I wish I were dead and these drugs feel like dying. I was pretty sure I’m in a hospital where they won’t just let me die, so I’m going to painkiller my way out of all of it.

But I don’t feel the button so I have to open my eyes. But opening my eyes stuns me, makes me dizzy, makes me get a sharp throbbing headache.

I blink for a while and as my sight is finally becoming okay I hear a voice.

“Connor?” I was mortified. People were here? Fuck. I didn’t explode and disappear. People noticed. Fuck. People know about what happened. Fuck, I’m still alive.

I see two people, and it takes a bit longer than normal to recognize and name them both. “Zoe, Evan, you guys should go.” I manage to croak out.

My voice was hoarse and small, and I could barely move. Even licking my lips took a lot of energy. Every bit of me felt heavy to operate.

Zoe responded first. “No way. I need answers, and some explanation.”

I shake my head. “No, no answers, no words, no.”

Evan stepped up next to my bed. “I just want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”

I shake my head again. “No. Stop, just leave.”

Evan didn’t leave but I saw him take a (maybe hurt) step back.

I didn’t want them to be here, I didn’t even want myself to be here. I looked for the button with the medicine.

“They took you off the button painkiller.” Evan said, taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs. Zoe sits in one on the other side of the room.

I dropped my head back and tried not to cry, I wanted to disappear now. Now I would gladly flicker out or fade away, I would gladly just go away with no shockwave.

I keep my eyes closed, maybe I can pretend hard enough that I actually just die, or fall asleep or something.

Zoe’s voice breaks my pretending. “Connor you owe us a fucking explanation! You can’t just try to kill yourself and act like it’s perfectly fine!”

I didn’t like that. How bluntly she said kill yourself. It made me flinch. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself.”

Zoe glared at me like I just insulted her. 

“I got really hopped up on some shit and I tripped off a flimsy railing. Sue the fuckin city, this could be a win for our family. Problem fucking solved.”

Zoe scoffs. “It’s not about money or fucking suing, you almost died. Took pills with booze and you’re saying you tripped off a bridge? Connor, you're not stupid.”

I sigh hard. I was, I was really stupid. Stupid for not succeeding in my attempt. Stupid for being alive or thinking the universe would ever help me.

Now more than ever I wanted to be dead, the energy once there drained from my body, Zoe seemed ready to snap at me.

Zoe’s voice was exasperated. “Just fucking tell me why you tried to kill yourself?!”

I didn’t say anything.

Zoe doesn’t stop. “You think your life is so shitty you have to fucking kill yourself to escape or something? Get a grip Connor! You have a picture perfect life!”

And I could say what I thought. Picture perfect things were only perfect for the picture. I had both parents and a sister my age, I am financially secure, I’m not abused. 

Well I wasn’t hit. Emotionally and verbally I was battered from my parents fighting. 

But I don’t say that, because words were not worth it. I offer only one. “Okay.”

I hear the shift of the chair. I think Zoe stood up.

“Okay?!” She screeches. “Answer me! What the fuck could have been so bad that it made you suicidal?”

I shrug and open my eyes.

Zoe’s posture fell, like maybe she had finally actually given up on me.

“Do you really want to kill yourself?”

I look at her, not denying it but not outright accepting it either. I don’t want to answer so instead I say something else I wanted to say. “I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

3rd person P.O.V

Zoe felt like she was crumbling. He was sorry? Did that mean he did want to kill himself?

And Connor did really want to kill himself.

And Evan wanted to hug Connor. But he didn’t, so he just stood there because he wanted to, while Zoe’s legs struggled to hold her up.

“W-Why did you do it C-Connor?” Evan had managed through a strained stutter.

“I tripped into the railing.” Connor said, not lying in the slightest.

“No, why’d you drink and swallow those pills?” And Connor faltered, because he didn’t have an answer to Evan so he just shrugged.

“Were you trying to kill yourself with those pills?” Evan’s voice carries low.

“I’m sorry.” Was responded, low as well.

Zoe turned and left the room. Evan sat in his chair, and fidgeted. Connor got lost in thoughts.

One thing about Connor is that he bites the inside of his cheek. He has lines on the inside of his cheek of skin, pressed as the skin around caves, pressed away by Connor’s teeth.

Sometimes he feels like he may chew through his cheek. 

Well right now Connor was chewing. Those lines in his mouth are only getting more solidified.

He didn’t have answers, Connor only had apologies.

Evan’s timeline. Before The Phone Call, The Phone Call, and after The Phone Call.

Connor’s timeline becomes defined soon. Before The Event, The Event, after The Event.

The Event is a vague name, but Connor, even in that moment felt it coming, he knew and would never forget.

His parents barged in the room with Zoe, and after a few words Evan wandered out, making a half assed excuse to Connor. Something about the cafeteria.

Connor’s dad starts. “Connor. What happened? Were you pushed?” Connor shook his head.

“So you jumped?” Connor shook his head again.

“So then what the hell happened?”

“I tripped into the railing.” Connor replies, shrugging.

His dad scoffs at Connor. “Yeah hard not to trip when you’re high and drunk off your ass huh?”

Connor just shrugs again. Connor wanted so badly to feel numb, he wanted to be high again.

Connor hated being alive and sober.

“Are you some suicidal freak to be put in a looney bin or not?” Connor’s mom punches his dad’s shoulder.

“Do not say suicidal freak.” She said in a voice heavy with warning.

“I didn’t try to kill myself.” Connor just repeats the sentiment.

Connor didn’t like apologies. He especially didn’t like saying them. But he was still exploding, he felt like it anyway. And Christmas time was almost here. So he had to be real nice.

So before anyone says anything Connor just says: “Sorry.” In a lame tone.

“Sorry for what?”

“That I didn’t die.” And that was something he meant to think but not say, but the leftover painkillers made his brain too heavy and full to hold every thought.

His mom started to choke out a sob, his dad looked bewildered, and Zoe just huffed out incredulously. 

“Why do you want to die so much?” Zoe’s voice came out pleading.

“Why are you pretending you want me alive? You’ve wanted me dead before at least once, and you seem burdened by my existence.” Connor felt suddenly like he was given more something and his tongue was more loose, words falling out like crazy.

Connor’s mom was sobbing. “Dad gave up on me three years ago, and Zoe hasn’t thought good about me for five. You’re the only one holding on to me.”

Connor’s dad and sister go red when Connor makes a comment about his observations.

“Honestly even I’m getting tired of waiting for you to leave me.” Connor’s head lolls to the side, he is slowly knocking out. His heart rate was increasing subtly.

His parents noticed and called the doctors in. Connor, not knowing if these were his final words or not, mumbled to Zoe.

“If I die, let it be like a star. Cold and dark when I’m gone, but move the fuck on.” He grabs Zoe’s sleeve. “Zoe. I don’t want to be remembered forever, I want everyone to stop being stressed out because I’m here.”

His words were slurred but Zoe listened and nodded.

Then it blurred, nobody was in the room but doctors. They are shouting codes and trying, people go in and run out, and people deliver many things.

Evan thinks that Connor is probably dead.

Evan thinks that if Connor is dead then part of Evan is dead too. 

Chapter Text

So that means that technically for a total of 43 minutes part of Evan had died.

Connor died for the first time for 12 minutes. They were able to restart his heart for exactly 5 minutes before it failed again and they discovered that his lungs needed to be drained. Connor stayed dead for 20 minutes this time. They drained his lungs and got him stabilized for 30 minutes. He died once again, they tried for 10 minutes to no avail, considered stopping, but after another minute Connor's heart was able to beat on its own, as if started by the very idea of people giving up on him.

For the rest of the day and night Connor was kept on close watch by doctors. 

Cynthia was not very religious, she didn't force her children to church or do fasts, at thanksgiving they didn't hold hands and pray. Right now however Cynthia's hands were clasped over one another, tears like rivers on her face, and her thoughts were flung towards a higher power named God.

'Dear heavenly father. I don't know if you are real, I don't know if you can hear me or even if you care, but please save my son. He has sinned, but have some mercy. Do not take my son from me, I'll be a better mother, do not punish me for how I have gone wrong, just save my son.' 

Cynthia didn't care what happened, she just wanted Connor to be okay. She unclasped her hands and wiped at either of her eyes and then she looked at Connor, who lay asleep in front of her. 

She pushed hair out of his face and kissed him on his forehead before she sighed, her sigh was watery as was her voice. "I have to go now Connor. Don't die while I'm gone." She pushed a few stray strands of hair from her face, sucked in a deep breath, and left.

At the same time Evan's mom dropped him off at the hospital.

"Tomorrow I want you to try to go to school."

"Okay mom." Evan's voice would've been harsh if Evan wasn't exhausted.

He hadn't slept. His mom made him go home so he spent the day in his room, working on the game and biting his nails down until they bled. He hadn't ate either, nothing would go down. He was shaky, upset, and all out of order. He knew Connor died at least once, he heard the doctors yell code blue at least once. Evan knew what code blue meant. 

Evan was in an out of the hospital a lot when he was really young, he learned all the codes that way if the doctor said something he would understand what was happening. Evan hated when things happened and he didn't understand what was going on. 

So he heard code blue and his world was thrown into an earthquake. The ground was shaking, the lights were flickering, and everything was spinning. Evan threw up twice, got a migraine, and had a nose bleed all within the span of a few minutes of hearing code blue. His reaction alone was enough to panic the rest of the people there. 

They begged Evan for an explanation. He could only say that Connor coded and hope somebody could catch on.

A few minutes later a rush of doctors out and in again until, after an hour, all of the doctors and nurses flowed out of the room. Evan caught one of them and asked if the boy in the room was alive. There was a pause as the tired doctor tried to process everything they just had to do before nodding.

Connor was alive. But now Evan knew how close Connor was to death. He learned from a chatty nurse how many times Connor died and came back to life. 

Evan's mom had to wrench him away from the door of Connor's room. 

Evan didn't realize it but he also didn't stop crying for a while, even though he knew Connor was alive.

Evan went to open the car door and it was locked, he looked over at his mom for an explanation.

"Evan. I know Connor is your closest friend, but he seems like... A bad influence. He was on drugs, he tried to kill himself. I don't want you to..." She paused, clearly thinking better of what she was about to say. "I only want what's best for you."

"Connor is not a bad influence." Evan's voice was more tired and exasperated and annoyed than mad. He seemed more tired of having to say it then her accusation, as if he's had this conversation a million times (he has).

"Evan."

"No. He is there when I need him, he is nice, he has help me stood up for myself. You want me to leave him at his lowest? You don't know me if you think I would ever do what dad did and just..." Evan gestured with his hands. "...abandon everyone who I love. You think I would do that? I might have his genes but I am not his son. I'm honestly disgusted you would even insinuate that as an option." 

Evan loved his mother, he didn't snap at her, he was polite, he kept his head tucked. But there was a rage boiling his brain and making it so it didn't work like normal. So he compared his mother to his dad, got mad, and twisted her words.

"Please just unlock the door. I don't want to talk right now."

Silence.

Waiting.

Click.

"Call me when I need to pick you up." Her voice was small, and there was a clearly staged smile on her face, joy from that leaking to her words.

"Okay." Okay had become a popular word recently. It was easier to say okay then all the thoughts in one's brain.

He walked across the parking lot into the hospital, he and Cynthia do not cross paths but he arrives at Connor's room. He looks around and he's alone.

He was expecting at least Connor's mother but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and instead entered the room, moving close to talk to Connor.

"Hey Connor. I know you're asleep right now but I wanted to let you know I'm here." Evan looked at Connor for any response and there was none.

Evan sat down and sighed, staring at Connor. Connor's hair was all poofy from getting wet. One of his legs suspended by a contraption to hold it up, his arm on some pillows at his side. He had IVs like crazy, tubes running into his arm.

Evan looked at Connor's eyes, willing them to open.

Chapter Text

When Connor's eyes finally did open he wasn't fully present. They had put him on more painkiller, they gave him the button back. But when he checked back into reality, feeling that sweet sweet feeling of no pain, and only saw Evan, he didn't press the button.

"Evan?" 

Evan looked up from a book he had brought. He closed it on the book mark.

"Hey Connor, you need anything? Water, food, a doctor?" Evan felt a draw to stand up and do whatever Connor needed.

Connor shook his head slightly. "I don't need anything. I'm happy you're here."

"Where else would I be?"

"School, home, anywhere else."

"I would never leave you alone. Especially not when you're all hurt."

All of Evan's rage had dissipated, evaporated the second he saw Connor. It was Connor, his best friend, with a smile. 

But then there was a spike of anger. Connor tried to kill himself and he's acting like it's okay? Connor is smiling? Connor had tried to kill himself, Evan had died and shattered, and now Connor got to act like nothing had happened?

"I'm upset at you Connor." Is what Evan settles for. Guilt consumes him, gnawing at every nerve and making him feel nauseous. Connor had just tried to kill himself and Evan was getting upset. He felt unfair and guilty.

Connor's smile gets smaller. "I know, that's why I was happy you're here. I know a lot of people are gonna be upset for a while."

"I don't think you're treating this situation with the gravity I feel it's due."

"I've tried to kill myself more than once Evan, and this time I wasn't even trying. This situation barely has an gravity to me at this point."

There it was. A star and his planet. A star with so much gravity that suicide didn't matter, and a planet with so little that a suicide nearly destroyed it.

Evan's whole world felt like it was falling apart. Not an earthquake like last night, but like maybe a whole huge change, maybe like an ice age, or a volcanic eruption. But something changed.

"But this situation h-has a lot of gravity for me. I don't want you dead Connor."

"But you'd be better off."

"No the hell I wouldn't!"

"Evan how many times have I stressed you out, or made you cry, or yelled at you? C'mon think about it. You'd be better off without me in your life."

"Yeah but you've also made me laugh, helped me destress, you've made me much happier then you ever have sad. I felt like I was dying when you died. I would be so much worse off without you. You are not my only friend, but you are my closest friend. I would not be better off without you. Without you I'd have nobody who knew me, and I'd have nobody to know."

"I don't know if anybody knows me. I don't even know me Evan, how do you?"

"I know you Connor."

"Prove it."

"You love your mom. You show up to school for her, and those periods where you're sober is for her. You love your dad. You think he gave up on you a long time ago, but you still love him, you still want his respect. That's why you keep trying. I know you love Zoe, and I know she loves you back. I know you're both too stubborn to give up on one another, but you both think the other has been more than done with you." Evan pauses.

"You like the color black, but your favorite color is green, and you say that because of a fun fact our science teacher told us in 9th grade. You have a whole pocket in your messenger bag for injuries with stickers in case its a kid. You like to work with kids, volunteered as a camp counselor, but you gave up on the second week because a kid had nearly drowned and you got scared even though you saved her."

Connor looks at Evan, face twisting with thoughts and emotions. Evan doesn't stop.

"You're not violent or aggressive like Zoe or the kids at school might say or think. You're mad at yourself and scared that people might hurt you. You don't have a favorite animal but ever since you were little you've wanted pet ducklings because you thought they looked so fluffy and easy to hold. You used to call Zoe 'Zo-Zo' and you guys would have a taco night every Tuesday and a sleepover in the living room every other Friday until summer before 8th grade when you both decided to stop because it did more harm than good. You had a shared pet rat named Ramsay who escaped one day and you've never seen him since."

Connor is looking at the ceiling, blinking back the feeling of sobs in his throat.

"When you were really little your mom would sing to you and you preformed that song in a talent show when you were a kid and that's how you found out you really like music. You've written a couple songs and a few poems, and have made some songs for the game we're making. I know you Connor."

There was a long silence.

Connor's voice was small. "I didn't want you to be hurt." His voice broke and he tried to hold composure. "You were the one person I really didn't want to hurt." As a tear trailed Evan rushed to fix the situation.

"I-It's okay Connor! Really, it's-"

"It's not okay. I really, really want to be dead Evan. But I really don't want you to get hurt."

Evan flinched when Connor said wanted to be dead, it reminded him of when Connor was punching the wall and screaming about dying. 

Dull thud after dull thud against the wall. Now Connor's knuckles hurt really bad, they felt all bruised and sore and they were bleeding too. 

Connor's voice hurt too, because he had been screaming. Sometimes words or sentences, sometimes just screams. Mostly he was screaming about how badly he wanted to die. He was sobbing too.

His shoulders shook as they pumped his fist forward, more dull forceful pain as his fist collided with the wall. His face was wet and his hair was frizzed up.

Evan walked around the corner of the school and spotted Connor, who pulled back his arm, ready to spring forward. 

"Connor?" When Connor looked over and met the gaze of Evan he was scared, he looked more scared and sad than angry. He covered it as quick as possible. Set his fist down, stopped the tears and wiped the remaining, hoping he can play it off as sweat. "What's up?"

"Why're you punching the wall?"

"Got angry."

"Okay, well stop.

"Okay. Sorry."

"It's okay, let me help you get patched up."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Evan shook his head. "Why are you always worried about me getting hurt Connor? What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're hurt, why doesn't that matter?"

"My hurt is hurting other people, that's why it doesn't matter. My pain is just wrong."

"All pain is wrong, you shouldn't be in pain. Even then, there is no wrong way to hurt. Your pain is still pain even if you're not the only person it's hurting. Especially if you're not the only person it's hurting."

"I just wish I didn't hurt everyone."

"You don't hurt everyone."

"But I hurt a lot of people."

"People can heal. You have to heal first though."

"Or die."

Evan sighs. "That'll hurt more people."

"But I won't be alive to know it."

There was a small pause. 

Evan broke it. "Would you be able to go through with it knowing you'd be hurting people?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

Now the conversation felt dead.

Maybe Evan didn't know Connor as well as he thought it did.

"Probably not." Connor's voice was low.

"Hm?" Evan wasn't fishing he had genuinely just not heard Connor or processed his words.

"Probably not. If I knew when I tried that people would be hurt I probably wouldn't do it. I don't want to hurt anybody."

Or maybe Evan knew Connor just as well as he thought he did.

"I know you don't."

"Can I have a hug?"

Evan did not miss a beat (although he was slightly caught off guard by the question). "Won't that hurt?"

Connor shrugged. "Probably not."

"Then yes you can." Evan stood up, happy to be doing something, happy to be able to hug Connor. He walked over to Connor. Connor lift his non casted arm to hug Evan.

Evan, leaned over the hospital bed, hugged Connor. Connor felt like crying, like it was finally going to be okay. Someone knows he wants to die. Someone wants him alive. Someone knows him. 

Someone knew Connor, they knew he wanted to die and they knew he hurt people, they knew he loves his family, they know about Connor, and they still want to be around him.

"I love you Evan."

Chapter Text

It wasn't like Evan and Connor didn't say they loved each other, they did. It still made Evan sad, to think Connor really wanted to die and be gone and the fact he thought Evan would be better off if he wasn't here. So Evan returned it. "I love you too Connor."

"No, Evan, I love you."

He hear the words leave Connor's mouth, still leaning over his bed, one of Evan's arms stabilizing him while hugging. Evan pulled back, Connor's arm falling off as the two shared a look.

"You... What?" Raw confusion, something Evan didn't feel often, plagued his face. Evan knew Connor loved him but Connor said he loved Evan. "Am I reading this right?" Better to avoid miscommunications, especially right now while Connor is injured and morale amongst everyone was fairly low.

"Yeah... I think so." He seemed nervous, which wasn't Evan's intention, Evan didn't like when Connor was nervous. Evan loves Connor too. He loves Connor. But as his mouth was opened to return this sentiment there was a voice behind Evan.

"Why are you standing above my brother like that?" Both boys look and standing is Zoe Murphy. She looked at the situation. Evan was really weirdly close to the bed, his knees almost scraping the shitty bedsheets. He had a look of pure confusion, some look of almost mortification, and a bit of happiness that was only present in the very slight (but visible to the cynical Zoe) upturn of the very corners of his mouth.

Evan's face (already beginning to blossom red from Connor's admission) now grew a deeper shade of red. "Oh, we were just talking. He just woke up." Evan then felt a drive to leave the room, a heavy tension falling in place.

"I have to use the bathroom, I'm also going to uh go get some things from the vending machine." And with a scratch of his neck, and an awkward glance at Zoe (stood at the door with crossed arms) Evan left.

Zoe watched as he left then turned back to Connor. Zoe was a lot of things in that moment. She was confused at what just happened because it was apparent that whatever they were talking about was something she couldn't be there for, something she had interrupted. She was still angry at Connor for the suicide attempt and lack of explanation, this anger only surging stronger when she saw proof that Connor was capable of being a good person, capable enough to have a close friend.

But out of everything Zoe was scared. She was scared of three things, she was scared that this would change everything. She was scared Connor would get exponentially worse from this moment on until he left Zoe's life, be that college or death. She was also scared that nothing would change, that Connor would be the very same monster and Zoe would have to live with the fact he is choosing to do this. But most of all, trumping all of her anger and confusion was a fear she would lose her brother.

Connor Murphy is Zoe's brother, Connor is the monster. Connor Murphy is the little boy attacking her dad with a plastic sword to save her, Connor Murphy is the little boy who gave Zoe his ice cream when she dropped her own, Connor Murphy is the boy in the race car bed that always has room for two if Zoe has a nightmare. Connor is the guy who's high all the time, Connor is the guy who punches dents and holes in the wall and bangs on doors and tells people he wants them dead, Connor is the guy who you walk on eggshells around.

Staring at the boy in the bed Zoe wasn't sure who was there, she wasn't sure if it was the same boy she made pillow forts with or if it was the guy, the monster, the horrid beast that had killed her brother and took his place, that had rotted her brother into a shell, a mask. 

Neither of them spoke, for a good long while, but Connor had wanted a moment alone to talk, and Evan would be back any minute.

Even though he had taken a breath intended to be used on words (words Connor hadn't planned out yet) it was in fact Zoe who broke the silence.

"Who are you?" 

"Your brother?"

"Which version?"

"What?"

"Are you the brother I grew up with, or the monster of a brother I live with?"

"Jesus Zoe I died like ten times yesterday, and you're just going to call me a monster to my face... again?"

"Do you remember what you said to me last night?"

"I said a lot of thing."

"Your dying words."

"I remember them, vaguely."

"I remember it word for word. Even wrote it down in my notes app." Zoe holds up her phone. 

"Okay? What about what I said to you?"

"Your final words were about wanting everyone to forget you."

"My point still stands. If I die in this hospital then move on for fucks sake."

"And you said you wanted everyone to stop stressing out because you're here."

"I still don't see your point."

To be honest Zoe didn't know fully where she was going either, she didn't really have a point, just emotions. She didn't know if she was going to yell at Connor, her array of anger ammo all lined up. Or maybe she would cry at him, show the fear and how she missed Connor Murphy. Or maybe she would just give up, follow her dad.

Instead, with a surprisingly level tone, she spoke. "We don't want you to die, we don't want to forget about you, and the whole killing yourself thing? That doesn't get rid of stress."

"I already talked about this with Evan." Connor didn't want to repeat a conversation, waste energy on words already said.

"I'm not Evan."

"I know."

Zoe sighed, exasperated. She was tired, every attempt to reach Connor Murphy a farther reach and every attempt fell more and more short. Talking to Connor only ever proved more fruitless then whatever result came last. 

Connor spoke up. "I'm sorry."

"You said that already." 

"I'm sorry for a different thing now."

"Oh yeah? What are you sorry for then?"

"I'm sorry for placing the weight of my last words on you, and I'm sorry I brought up Evan. This is a conversation between us and you want answers, hell you deserve some answers."

Zoe was (pleasantly) surprised at Connor. His apologies the day before felt like excuses he could just chuck at the situation he didn't want to acknowledge, but he explained this time. 

"Why did you try to kill yourself?"

"Last night, I genuinely did not. I drank and had a few pills because I was going to kill myself. I got cold, stood up to go home and grab a jacket, and the combination of everything led to me being unstable on my feet. I tripped into the railing and I fell over."

"Why were you going to try to kill yourself then?"

Connor took a pause. Why did he try to kill himself? It was the same question Evan asked yesterday, but he still didn't know. For most of highschool and the ending of middle school Connor had felt a draw towards death. It usually presented in him sleeping a lot, or being high, avoiding at all costs an unaltered state of conscious, anything that could leave him alone with his thoughts. However Sophomore year Connor read a book and that is where the idea of suicide came.

Connor would never have to be alone with his thoughts again, and he could stop relying on drugs to get him by. Nobody would laugh at him, he wouldn't fight with his parents or Zoe, he'd never feel bad ever again. This came, of course, with the huge consequence of... well.. death. Death wasn't just all of the bad things being gone forever it was Connor being gone, forever. It meant; sure Connor never had to worry about bad stuff again, but he would never enjoy anything again. He would never get a chance to reconnect with Zoe, he wouldn't get to finish the game he and Evan made and get to see it become popular.

Connor would be gone. 

And like most things usually do it became increasingly scary when Connor thought about it. Until last month of Sophomore year.  

That thought had gotten to its peak, it was the scariest it'd ever be. But slowly Connor lost the good things. Evan was always gone all summer. Connor hated the summer too, always hot and he had to wear clothing that revealed his body, something he admittedly didn't love. Connor also lost his plug. Meaning looming ahead of him was almost three months of unaltered consciousness, his only escape being sleep.

If Connor had to guess why he wanted to kill himself last night he'd have to say that he was just continuing what he had already started, stepping up to bat yet again.

"Last night wasn't the first time. But stuff started to feel bad again, bad enough for my fear of death to not be a good enough reason to stay alive."

Zoe's world seemed to be crumbling a lot now. Crumbling when she heard her brother was in the hospital, crumbling when Evan first said suicide, crumbling when Connor said "I'm sorry", crumbling when all of this happened. Her world once again started to shake with the familiar feeling of fault lines cracking. 'Last night wasn't the first time?' She thought.

Here comes The Event. A big moment of change.

Zoe walked to Connor's bed and he held his hand still, despite the urge to start doing something with it. She stood exactly where Evan had not even five minutes ago. And for the first time in many years, Zoe hugged Connor. 

His movements were delayed, because he was shocked, but he brought his arm up to hug his sister, who ended up sitting down in the space Connor's arm had once occupied. She was crying softly into his shoulder, trying to not let it be a cry that showed how crumbly her world was, but her shoulders ended up shaking anyways.

Connor kept his hand rubbing in circles. He so badly wished he had both arms at his disposal right now so he could really hug his sister. The cast and such made it too heavy for him to move. He was crying now too, the weight of his actions, the weight of people knowing, the weight of, well, just about everything under the sun, all crashed into Connor at that moment.

The Event lasted a few minutes. A few minutes of them both crying and hugging. 

When Zoe pulled back and she looked at the boy in the bed she saw him, she saw Connor Murphy, she saw the race car bed and the tacos, she saw the ice cream and the pillow forts, she saw the plastic sword and the boo-boo kisses, she saw playing in the sprinkler and dancing in the mud. Zoe saw her brother for the first time in years.

"I'm sorry." She said. The roles were now reversed. 

Connor went to speak but she cut him off.

"I'm sorry that everything has been so rough and that instead of helping you we all got mad at you. And I'm sorry for being upset that you have a friend. I'm sorry that your life got so bad that you thought..." She couldn't bring herself to say it, despite her earlier will to sling it around. "that what you did yesterday would be better than living."

Connor shook his head, denouncing the apology. "No. I'm sorry. When things got rough I got mad at everyone else, I didn't ask for help or-"

Zoe cut in. "Connor. Both parties are at fault here. We fucked up by not being there and you fucked up by not letting us be there. But you are owed an apology as much as anyone else, and out of everyone who has been in this room so far only you have apologized. I am sorry, I can't speak for mom or dad, but I am sorry."

They were both sorry. They both could have apologized for a million things, and said a million words. But they didn't. Because they were the Murphy siblings, and siblings understood each other.

So in a shared look Connor searched Zoe for any hint of sarcasm, any sign of a will to hurt him and Zoe searching back equally. They both silently closed the conversation. Connor had apologized, he had made up with his sister. Zoe had apologized, she had found her brother and got him back.

Connor remembered Evan and looked at the door. Connor caught a glimpse of Evan walking back. 

"Zoe when Evan gets here, can you pretend to go somewhere? I uh... I need to have a private conversation with him please."

Zoe nodded, a smile on her lips. She never thought she'd be smiling so close to a disaster like this. "Yeah sure." She stood up from the bed. "I'll grab us all something to eat from the cafeteria or something." 

Evan entered the room, holding three bottles of water. "I got us all water." He offered with a smile, noting the new air in the room.

Zoe smiled. "Perfect, I was just about to head to the cafeteria. Keep Connor company I'll be back in a bit."

She left the room, grabbing a water from Evan's hand. Evan watched her leave then turned back to Connor. Connor who loves him. 'I'm alone with Connor.' Evan realized. 'Now we get to talk about what he said.'

Chapter Text

When Evan left the room he felt bad. He knew about Connor and Zoe's strained relationship and he knew Connor couldn't leave and that Zoe was stubborn enough that she probably wouldn't leave. But really, what was Evan supposed to do? Sit there and watch and listen as they made the room heavy with years of tension?

Evan had also figured that maybe they needed a moment alone to hash it out. He trusted Zoe not to further injure Connor.

So Evan took the long way, walking slowly to the other side of the hospital and he started to think. Within the next few days Evan likely wouldn't have much time alone with Connor, especially if his mom made him go back to school, so he needed to know what he was going to say to Connor.

But really, what was Evan supposed to say? What do you say in a situation like this? Years ago when Evan met Connor he already knew he liked guys, and he found Connor attractive. He thought Connor was the coolest person ever, he had his flaws but he was still cool. That made it even better to Evan. Evan knew nobody was perfect, so he was skeptical and disliked anyone who appeared that way, but Connor never tried to seem perfect. Connor never tried with all his might to come across as porcelain. That's why Evan liked him. He was so amazing, but he was flawed, he was human. And to Evan that was more perfect than anything else.

Evan had caught feelings for Connor, many times. He tried to push them down or away or anywhere but where they had holed up in his heart. Obviously it had failed, he spent most of his waking hours being around and talking to Connor, and being around your crush 24/7 didn't leave much room for the feelings to escape.

So Evan had to know exactly what to say to convey that: I love you too Connor, and I have for a while. 'Should I ask him out? Or just... Confess?' Evan began to try and bite his nails, but they were all bit to blood last night, so Evan had to settle for biting at his lip.

Evan had made it to the bathroom, but he didn't really have to go so he sought out the closest vending machine. Evan always carried fifty dollars (two twenties and a ten) in the back of his phone case, it was "emergency" money for when he didn't bring his wallet. So he got out some money and after a lot of indecisive scanning of all the products he decided he wasn't hungry either and just got three water bottles.

His walk back was even slower than his walk to. He took tiny leisurely steps, not wanting to walk into the room at the wrong time and interrupt something that needed to happen. However when he saw Connor's room he knew Connor probably saw him and begun to walk at his normal pace (so as to not look weird or worry Connor) before entering the room.

Evan smiled. "I got all of us water."

Zoe, who was standing next to Connor, began to walk to the door. "Perfect, I was just about to head to the cafeteria. Keep Connor company I'll be back in a bit." She grabbed a water from Evan's hand and continued to walk out. Evan watched her leave and turned back to Connor. Connor who loves him. 'I'm alone with Connor.' Evan realized. 'Now we get to talk about what he said.'

Evan walked to Connor's bed dragging a plastic hospital chair over. When he sat his knees were pressing into the bed, and he still didn't know exactly what to say. Connor who sat looking at Evan had a similar problem. Neither of them had any idea where to go with this. Connor didn't know if Evan liked him back and Evan didn't know how to just say that he loves Connor too.

As the silence set the worry grew for Connor. Evan had been staring at his pants, picking at any loose thread or making loose threads. Evan started by handing Connor water. "You really should drink some water." And so Connor did, because it was better than staring at Evan panicking about what he could say or do. 

As Connor put the bottle to his lips Evan finally spoke up. "I love you too." He started, just to clear the initial air.

"And I'm not just saying that to be a people pleaser or because I'm scared of your reaction if I don't. I have loved you since practically when I met you, but I could never tell you because not even in my most wildest lucid dreams could I ever imagine you'd like me because you're the cool Connor Murphy and I'm just Evan."

Connor took a sip of his water, and closed the cap. Using some buttons on the bed he sat himself up as much as he could. Then he looked at Evan, who was biting his lips and nervously looking at Connor.

"Evan, y'know how I only have one arm right now?"

Evan nodded. "Yeah?"

"Could you do me a favor?"

"Uh- Sure? What'd you need?"

"If this situation were any different I would kiss you, so do me a favor and you kiss me." Connor had died, a few times, he wasn't really afraid of much. But this was scary, because Evan didn't respond right away.

"You mean... It's okay if I kiss you?" 

"Very okay."

"Okay." So Evan (with the same amount of kissing practice as when he was born) leaned in. He wasn't sure how it exactly worked, he knew you pressed lips and that some people used tongue (which he was not expecting for a first kiss). But he didn't know what to do with his hands, and he didn't know how long it was supposed to be. 

But Evan would never miss out on this chance. One of his hands brushed Connor's long hair away from his eyes before leaning in. Once he was sure their lips would line up he closed his eyes, because that's what everyone did in the movies and staring at someone while kissing them felt awkward. 

 Connor's free hand flew up to the back of Evan's head to pull him as close as he could. 

 After Connor had expended the breath he took he pulled back and fluttered his eyes open. Evan sat, still leaned forward, red in the face.

"Connor?"

"Yeah?"

"That was my first kiss."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. Well was it a good first kiss?"

"It was a very good first kiss. I have no comparison but it felt pretty good."

"You're such a dork." Connor was smiling fondly at Evan. Evan smiled back. 

"I love you Connor."

"I love you too Evan."

Chapter Text

Connor had built a galaxy. He was a star, he had his family back and he had Evan who were all there now. It took him a while to heal, but he had people to help him now. He had his sister back, his dad was back, and his mom was less tired, less drained. 

Zoe had gotten Connor Murphy, she had gotten her brother. She drew stars on his casts, she made the stuff for taco nights, she slept over in Connor's room. She took the time to talk it through, Connor was not a monster, he was afraid. She no longer held a difference between Connor and Connor Murphy, between her brother and the "monster" she knew. 

Evan and his mom had a few talks (and a few arguments) about him and Connor. They worked it out. Evan telling her that he was old enough to discern whether or not somebody was bad for him, and her accepting that she cannot control his life and that she has to allow him his own life. Evan had also told his mom in a particularly heated fight about him and Connor dating. She was very accepting of Evan liking guys, but she still disagreed with Connor being the guy.

Of course Connor and Evan's mom, Heidi, had met, but Evan decided he wanted to have dinner with his mom and Connor to clear the negative thoughts Heidi had about Connor. It had worked as well as expected, Connor being unreasonably polite, he had even made dessert. 

Connor and Evan spent most of their time around each other, even more so than before The Phone Call. 

Cynthia got Connor therapy, and signed up for some family sessions. Connor was initially hesitant, but did what his mother wanted regardless. He ended up really liking his therapist, and with someone to talk to and someone to help him understand why he felt how he felt and what to do to help Connor got better. It was not a smooth path that only went up, it was a bumpy roller coaster, but he was getting better.

By the end of his senior year Connor had been 3 months sober from weed, and he hadn't thought about killing himself for longer than that.

Things had worked out. No exploding stars, no acting like a child the week before Christmas. Only a star and his planet, a star and his galaxy.