#GRAB YOUR TISSUES | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justakitteh622 · 2 years ago

Text

Future!Donnie x GN!OC

ROTTMNT Future timeline ANGST! It starts with a lot of fluff and very quickly devolves so I hope you’re prepared! There is a bit of fluff at the end as a palette cleanser. You’re welcome <3

I might make this into a series if it’s well received. The next piece will be the story of Donnie and my OC in the present timeline and it’s a rollercoaster.

This is kinda cherry picked from the middle of a larger story, so for context: Soxx is a lynx yokai with owl wings. They are nonverbal but not deaf and use ASL primarily to communicate.

If you’re interested in seeing more from me please let me know! I crave validation :>

TW: ANGST, AMPUTATION, DISCUSSION OF TAKING SOMEONE OFF LIFE SUPPORT, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, HEARTBREAK, GRIEF, SELF NEGLECT, SELF SACRIFICE

“Untie Soxx?!” The comment surprised everyone in the room.

“Uhh Case?” Leo leaned toward Casey Jr. with confusion written all over his face.

“Sorry… uh. I’m Casey. You don’t know me, but I know you from my timeline.” Casey shifted uncomfortably and rubbed his arms for comfort. He was already tearing up, and he hated that this was his reaction. He should have been prepared for this.

Donnie cocked his head curiously, looking from Casey to his partner, Soxx, and back again. Soxx was looking at him for help, advice, information, anything to help, but he had none. The Hamato family had all gathered for New Year’s Eve, and although Donnie had been dating Soxx for months now, this was their first time meeting Casey Jr. Nobody would have guessed that he would’ve recognized them on sight.

“Soxx was in your timeline?” Mikey piped up excitedly, but it didn’t fit the air in the room.

“Yes.” The word stuttered out of Casey’s mouth like it didn’t belong there. Casey shivered and hugged himself tightly. Soxx was starting to get nervous, fidgeting with their wings to self-regulate.

What did they do?

Leo pulled Casey into a hug, only dampening the sound of his choked sobs. By now Donnie was also uncomfortable and took to placing an arm across Soxx’s shoulders lightly squeezing them close.

“Uhh… Casey?” Raph stood from his seat on the couch and apprehensively approached.

“Well…” Casey started, “it’s a sad story. But in a good way?” Now he had everyone’s attention as tears still fell from his cheeks.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Leo’s tone held an air of ‘I will kill anyone who dares to hurt you’.

“I think it might actually be nice to talk about it for once. And… It’s a pretty compelling story.” Casey pulled away from Leo and nodded decisively.

“Yes! Story time!” Mikey flailed energetically on his beanbag, squeezing an armful of blanket.

“Heh…” Casey sniffed, “I’m not the greatest story teller, but I learned from the best.” He glanced warmly at Soxx, putting them much more at ease. “Alright everybody sit. Story time is just better that way. And Raph?”

“Yeah?” Raph smiled kindly at Casey as everyone else found a comfortable spot in the living room to sit.

“Grab the tissues.” Casey’s tone and face were dead serious.

Once tissues, snacks, and drinks were acquired and everyone was comfortable, Casey sat in the middle of the room. Taking a deep breath he began.

“Untie Soxx was a yokai saved by Master Leonardo from a krang attack when I was only a couple years old. Their ability to fly silently seemed incredibly useful, so they began working at the main colony as a scout.”

“A scout huh?” Donnie smirked at Soxx, who was snuggling on his side.

“I keep telling you I’ve been a spy this whole time.” Soxx signed smugly in ASL.

“No interrupting the story!” Leo scolded, pushing his hand into their face.

“One day,” Casey continued silencing the rousing giggles, “Soxx was out patrolling and found a dead krang. Within minutes Master Leonardo and Professor Donatello had arrived at the scene. Master Michelangelo had stayed on base to keep things running, but was on call if they needed assistance.”

“Smart smart…” Leo commented from the sidelines.

“But when Donatello leaned forward to scan the krang’s body, it sprang up to attack!” Gasps rang around the room as Casey mimed the krang coming to life. “Fortunately, Soxx was standing close enough to grab him and take off into the air, saving him from what would have been a very horrible death. Untie Soxx always said that moment is when Dee fell head over heals.”

“Scoff! I do not ‘fall head over heals’.” In response, all three of his brothers, April, and Soxx sent deadpan stares at Donnie, who was getting very flushed very quickly.

“They said it was the look in your eyes and you never protested when they told the story.” Casey smirked at Donnie’s sudden lack of response. “Now then… the three of them killed the krang together. It was already greatly wounded but the fight was still intense. Throughout the battle, Untie Soxx and Uncle Tello were constantly saving each other’s skin. One block here, one swoop there… It was like they were meant to fight together.”

Sparkling eyes fixated on Casey from all around the room. “Of course… I wasn’t there and I’m pretty sure you both exaggerated the story quite a bit.”

“I would never!” Soxx signed defensively.

“They would never!” Donnie echoed, feigning offense.

“What I do believe about that story, is that Soxx had felt surface level adoration for Uncle Tello until that moment when, without question, they valued his life over theirs.” Raph eyes were already watering; he sniffed quietly as Casey went on.

“Uncle Tello was head over heals,” Casey sent a brief glare at Donnie. “and he couldn’t handle that. Master Michelangelo at first told him that it was just a combination of the exhilaration of battle and the isolation of the apocalypse, and maybe he was right. So Donatello buried it: hiding in his work as he often did.”

“He went to great lengths to avoid Soxx entirely even after they were promoted to Lieutenant. “We don’t work well together” he would say, but everyone knew he was lying. This drove a wedge in the war efforts as Donatello’s productivity fell, he refused to go on patrol, and he would often need extra debriefings after missing meetings.”

“Yeah that sounds like D.” Leo commented smugly. His smirk made Donnie roll his eyes.

“Eventually Sensei couldn’t deal with it any longer and forced Uncle Tello to admit his feelings to Untie Soxx or he would tell them himself.”

Soxx and Leo shared a knowing glance. He had done the same thing to Soxx in this timeline.

“So… with some protest, Donatello took Soxx to the rooftop of the colony to watch the sunset. It was both risky and beautiful; certainly not something you see everyday. Apparently,” Casey smiled warmly at Soxx. “you thought Donnie hated you, and were pleasantly surprised at the truth.”

Now Soxx was blushing too, covering their snout with their paws.

“Soxx and Donatello got caught up in the moment and…” Casey coughed and looked away embarrassed. “they had sex on the roof that day.”

“Blech! Ew! I don’t need to hear that many details about my brother.” Leo started making intentional gagging noises. “Why do you even know that?”

“Funny you should ask! They both thought no one knew but… April put a bug on donnie’s battle shell.” Casey stifled a laugh. “The aforementioned bug was hastily turned off when Uncle Tello made a quote “turtle noise” that made Sensei dry heave. They kept the audio as blackmail for years, but never actually used it.”

“Unfortunate. That is fantastic blackmail.” April grinned suspiciously.

“After that, Soxx and Donatello spent almost every waking moment within each other’s sight. That is, until Untie Soxx moved into Uncle Tello’s quarters. Then it really WAS every moment, sleep included.” Casey punctuated his point with a single finger pointing into the air. “That’s how I actually remember them: inseparable. They worked, fought, slept, ate, and even bathed together. Both seemingly afraid the other would die the second they parted. And I don’t blame them… that’s how things were.”

“Yeah, that sounds like them.” Raph shrugged. Soxx sent a death glare at him, but didn’t respond. Casey paused, lost in thought, and for a moment the room was silent.

“I was 7 years old when Untie Soxx lost their wing.” Casey’s statement was blunt, and everyone’s face dropped. Donnie adjusted in his seat, pulling Soxx closer. “They had taken a calculated risk to buy the others some time and suffered the consequences.”

“What happened?” Mikey stated solemnly; he was on the edge of his seat.

“They were grabbed by a krang zombie and thrashed around by their left wing. The wing was unsalvageable but they would have died if Uncle Tello hadn’t jeopardized the mission to rescue them and haul ass back to base.” Casey paused again, taking a deep breath. “Upon returning, Soxx refused to communicate with anyone, even Uncle Tello. Everyone kind of just understood why; it wasn’t quite the same as loosing an arm or leg. It was more like being wheelchair bound. Sensei told me they would never fly again.”

Soxx shifted their wings, somehow needing to remember that they were there.

“Once they were stable and the amputation complete, Donatello left them in the Medbay and locked himself in his lab for over a week. He didn’t open the doors, didn’t accept food or water, and he likely didn’t sleep for more than a few hours total.”

Leo would have said something like “Yup sounds like Dee”, but that point had already been made, and he was deeply invested in this story.

“I was there the day he finally left his lab with a fully functional prosthetic wing.” Again, wide eyes from around the room were fixed on Casey. “It was perfect. It was beautiful. Not a single flaw. It had every bell and whistle you could imagine. Uncle Tello really had done his best, even in the middle of an apocalypse. It was the single greatest piece of technology Donatello ever made… and ever would make.”

Casey wiped a tear off his cheek, noticing briefly that the snacks were now going uneaten.

“He presented his work to Untie Soxx, who was still bedridden, with such pride, admiration, and fulfillment, but he had that manic look in his eye that everyone knew too well. Soxx all but ignored the tech, with their eyes only on him. The first thing Soxx signed after loosing their wing was “You look so tired, baby.” with tears streaming down their face. I committed the moment to memory.”

The room was still. Not a single person dared speak or move. The air was thick with emotion that went completely unspoken. Casey cleared his throat and sniffed away his tears.

“I was just barely 8 when Soxx and Donnie dedicated their lives to each other. Captain Dracum officiated a yokai wedding of sorts which included mystic vows and a binding sigil.” Casey pointed to his wrist, showing where the sigils had been placed. “It was emotional for everyone: a wedding in the apocalypse? Even the great Master Leonardo sobbed unapologetically. It wasn’t the most extravagant wedding, but there was real food, music and dancing… even a pseudo-cake that Master Michelangelo scavenged the ingredients for.”

By this point Donnie and Soxx were completely red and everyone else was grinning ear to ear with wet eyes.

“Did they dress up?” Mikey inquired hopefully, tears welling up expectantly.

“Yeah actually! They did. It was more uh… battle gear then black tie, but Untie Soxx wore a crown made from krang bones and flowers that Uncle Tello grew in his lab. I remember distinctly that they kissed in the air, it was… inspiring to everyone that saw.”

“I would never be so…” Donnie began, but Soxx put a finger over his lips and shut him up immediately. And that was everything anyone needed to know.

“Here was the cool part though! The wedding gave Soxx their own Hamato Ninpo! A wind power complete with force shields and a speed boost while flying!” Casey’s face lit up as he demonstrated the abilities.

“But that would mean…” Donnie trailed off to himself, thinking deeply about the implications that passing on Ninpo would have. Seemingly only Soxx heard because Casey didn’t acknowledge him.

“Soxx continued to fight on the battlefield by Donatello’s side for years. Fighting as one, they aced every mission. I mean they took down live krang on their own! It was incredible. They were rumored to be untouchable… Until they weren’t.” Again Casey filled the room with a sense of dread. This time, a warranted one.

“Like the titanic before them, the unsinkable duo were faced with defeat. Everyone knew the mission was a long shot at best and suicide at worst, but they had gotten confident… no… Cocky. In the end they were victorious but at a high cost. Donatello lost more than a leg that day.” April audibly gasped, sending shivers down everyone’s spines.

“Soxx was in irreparable condition.” Casey went on, “They were conscious but in a great deal of pain and not breathing on their own. Master Leonardo, the primary medic, had them on a ventilator and morphine, (both of which were more than short in supply) but there was nothing they could do to fix all the damage that had been done. I was young, so I wasn’t exactly given the medical rundown, but trust me… it was bad.”

Everyone waited with bated breath for him to continue.

“Sensei was the first to suggest it, and Uncle Tello tried to strangle him for even considering it. Had he not been so badly injured and a brand new amputatee, he may have actually succeeded.” Casey snickered, but it was dull not humorous. “It was terrifying to watch, but I also understood.”

Casey was lost in thought for a moment, seemingly remembering the events.

“Uncle Tello spent several precious days researching different options, procedures that were experimental even before the krang invaded, but he demanded they try. No one dared come between the mighty Donatello and his beloved, but they all knew it was false hope. Even Master Michelangelo wrote down his final words in preparation. They had all accepted it… except Donatello. No one could get through to him, he had made up his mind…” Casey trailed off for emphasis, or maybe it was for himself.

“It was only when Soxx refused to comply that he finally understood. They didn’t want to be poked, prodded, and drugged throughout their final days. They were already being kept alive by machines, and they didn’t want to keep living like that. So… I was 12 when I watched our family say their goodbyes to Untie Soxx.”

“What… what did they say?” Soxx signed apprehensively. It was as if part of them wanted to know, and part of them didn’t.

“Master Michelangelo went first. He had the warmest things to say and promised to visit them in the afterlife through meditation. It was heartwarming and refreshing. I think he was staying strong for the family.” Casey gestured to Mikey, smiling and empathetic. Somehow Mikey felt invaded, like Casey saw right through him.

“Commander O’Neil cried and could only manage a ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there.’ which Untie Soxx snuffed out with a ‘I’m glad you weren’t.’ but their embrace was touching and it held a thousand words.” April smiled to herself, knowing that likely would be her reaction.

“Sensei tried his best to joke and humor his way out of crying, but to no avail.” Leo chuckled nervously at the thought, though there were tears in his eyes. “Soxx held him as he cried and promised to “haunt his ass” if he ever blamed himself. That was… startling. I hadn’t ever seen him act so immature. It was like he didn’t know how to handle it. I’m still glad I wasn’t old enough to remember Raphael’s death. I’m sure it was worse.”

Raph froze in place, but everyone else nodded silently. Raph’s death would’ve been worse, they all knew that.

“Uncle Tello went last, and signed a long speech. He cried the whole time, kneeling on his one good leg by the bedside. Commander O’Neil knew some sign language but not enough to keep up with him. Master Leonardo and Michelangelo were both fluent, but Sensei turned away out of respect and Michelangelo was too busy wiping his face to see. So it was abundantly clear that Donatello’s speech was for Soxx and only Soxx.” Casey began to cry, tears dripping down his face, but he kept going.

“Except I know sign. I spent my formative years signing with Untie Soxx daily and I’m possibly more fluent than any of them were. Maybe even you guys. So… I watched in legitimate awe as the most deadpan, emotionless, level headed wall crumbled to pieces before me. I cried. I sobbed. How could I not? The speech was beautiful and raw and full of unbridled emotion like I have never seen.” Casey choked down a sob and looked to Donnie, who’s jaw was agape. “You held nothing back.” Soxx watched a tear slide down Donnie’s cheek; he didn’t bother to wipe it away.

“I can still remember every sign of that speech, though I’d dare not try to do it justice.” Casey wiped his face, trying to regulate his breathing.

“After holding each other for a long while, Untie Soxx also said goodbye. It felt… anticlimactic, but then again, how could they possibly follow up that brilliant display? Donatello cried into their chest for hours after their death. Grieving the only thing that kept him sane in that cursed landscape. When he finally left the medbay that day, he was never the same. Professor Donatello was cold, distant, and harsh.”

Casey’s face twisted into something sour, and his audience got the feeling that this story wasn’t over and it was not about to get any happier.

“He spent the first week quote ‘pretending he was dead’ as he called it; which was laying motionless on, what was now only, his bed. After seven days exactly of that, Master Leonardo, Master Michelangelo, and Commander O’Neil intervened. They dragged him out of bed and practically shoveled food down his throat. This wasn’t the first time I had seen them do this, but Donatello had no will to fight them… and that was way scarier.” Casey shivered then continued.

“The next month was spent sending someone to check on Donatello every day, but he was never any better. He didn’t even protest being bothered. He just… laid there and accepted it. Sometimes he would say something out of pocket like ‘Did you know people have actually died of heartbreak? They loose their will to live, but that’s not quantifiable so it’s untreatable.’ or ‘You know it’s really easy to make a nuke. I’ve done it before.’ But that wasn’t out of character, just a little surprising.” Casey shrugged, like it was no big deal, but Raph and Leo shared a worried glance.

“After the first month I wasn’t allowed to visit Uncle Tello’s room anymore. Sensei seemed to think it would be bad for my mental state. So I could only watch from the sidelines. During month two I overheard Master Michelangelo mention solemnly to Master Leonardo that he thought their brother was starting to loose his mind.”

Donnie shifted uncomfortably, like he was sitting on something. He tapped his fingers on his leg rhythmically, and Soxx could tell he was counting his breathing.

“But after three months of Prof. Donatello being out of commission, he finally left his room. He grabbed exactly one cup of black coffee and then wordlessly slipped into his lab. That month was a plateau. Donatello would wake up, get coffee, scarf down a rat or two and disappear into his lab until the next morning. One might think he was doing better, but he had stopped going into his room entirely. Which I assume was because that was their room, not just his.”

Furrowed brows were displayed across the room. This wasn’t even their Donnie, but everyone still carried a heavy burden of concern for his well being. Some of them wondered how Casey managed to carry that burden alone for so long now.

“It was five months in and Donnie hadn’t made a single thing despite spending all his time in his lab. He barely participated in the war efforts and never had any ideas of his own. It was a stark change from his usual… well… past behavior. It wasn’t until the end of the fifth month that he finally started acting somewhat alive again. He started sharing his thoughts during meetings and joining his brothers for meals. It was at that point that he told me to stop calling him Uncle Tello, so he became Professor Donatello again. That hurt, but I understood why. He was only Uncle Tello because Soxx had labeled him that when he carried me around as a kid.”

The air of the living room left no room for jokes or comments. Not a single soul wanted to interrupt or ask questions, even Leo.

“But… despite being somewhat functional again, he didn’t start designing his prosthetic leg until over 6 months after Soxx’s death. Even when it was finished, he often complained about it aching during use or being poorly engineered. He never bothered to upgrade it; he didn’t care enough about it to. Something inside of Donnie was gone, and he was never getting it back. His tech had no more inspiration; no more genius. Even the best designs were carelessly made and buggy.”

“Woah… that doesn’t sound at all like Donnie.” Mikey whispered to himself, but it was so quiet in the room that everyone heard it.

“Yeah. It really doesn’t. He was honestly more of an empty shell at that point.” Casey concurred.

“Haha shell. B-because we’re turtles right Casey?” Leo’s face was dripping with tears and he was shaking. His smile was disingenuous; he kept sniffing and looking around waiting for someone to laugh, but no one did.

“I… I can stop. I’m sorry for dumping this all on you guys…” Casey started to move from his spot, but was interrupted surprisingly by Donnie.

“No!” Donnie sat up hurriedly. His face was still wet from crying a few moments prior, but his expression was serious. “How does it end?”

“Oh! Well…” Casey sat back down and began again. “Donatello kept the prosthetic wing and hung it above the computer in his lab. I once caught a glimpse of him asking Soxx for advice, staring tearfully at the worn tech. He would never create another piece half as stunning even after its years of use.”

“Now I feel challenged.” Donnie smirked, somehow now he didn’t seem nearly as distraught by the story as the rest of his family.

“I was almost 14 when Prof, Donatello went on his last mission. He couldn’t do it anymore. He just… wasn’t himself. Everyone knew, but no one could do anything to help. Untie Soxx was gone, and Uncle Tello was too. So on that battlefield, side by side with his brothers one last time, Donatello sacrificed himself to plug a virus into the techno drome and destroy it completely.”

A series of woah’s and breathy sighs cascaded around the room. Most of them were crying but surprisingly Leo was the most emotional.

“I-I didn’t think Donnie would be the-the one to pull a hero move. Heh. Th-that’s way more Raph’s style.” Leo took a tissue and blew his snout violently. Casey chuckled but ignored him and continued.

“Master Leonardo and Master Michelangelo didn’t mourn him they way they did the others, and it took a month of prying before Sensei finally told me why.” The family exchanged confused gazes, except for Donnie who was a little bit offended.

“The last time Master Michelangelo saw Prof. Donatello; he smiled, a real sincere smile. And Michelangelo saw a blaze of life, of raw ninpo, for the first time since Soxx had died. His last words were “Please let me do this for you.” Donnie wanted desperately to be with his beloved again, and he died for his family, for the world. But even without that, the family had mourned the death of Donatello a year and a half prior. Everything that made Donnie who he was, was buried with Soxx. There was nothing left to mourn.” Casey looked around the room at the tearful eyes staring at him and suddenly felt very apologetic.

“I’m so sorry! That was a lot and it’s a holiday...” Casey sputtered out a few more nothings as Mikey (who had been very uncharacteristically quiet) rose from his seat and approached him. Casey got very anxious very fast, but Mikey put a hand on his shoulder to silence him.

“That was… the best love story I have ever heard.” Mikey’s tone and face showed a deep seated bittersweet warmth.

A dark red flush attacked Casey’s face as he stumbled out a quiet “Thank you so much”

“Although…” Mikey questioned “I did promise to visit them in the afterlife right?” Casey nodded. “Did I ever do that?”

“Yes.” Casey smiled, a real smile this time not one just to comfort his audience. “Two years after Uncle Tello’s death, you thundered into Sensei’s room at like… 2am. With a bright smile and tears staining your face, kinda like right now. You told him what you had seen while meditating. Uncle Tello and Untie Soxx were together again and they were proud. More importantly, they were at peace with the rest of the fallen Hamato.”

Well that did it for Raph because the dam that was keeping back his sobs broke loose, and what was silent tears became full blown bawling. It didn’t take long for a hug pile to collect around Raph to comfort him. This was what Splinter walked into as he left his room.

“M-my sons?!” He rushed over, afraid that something terribly must have happened. And in a way, something did. Raph spoke first.

“It was… and then… Casey said… because… Donnie!… and then Soxx!… And and… and they got married! And then…” Splinter interrupted his blabbering. It was honestly surprising that he caught any of what Raph said, nobody else understood much.

“They’re getting married! Oh! My son! I couldn’t be happier!” A chorus of “uhhh’s and no’s echoed across the room but it seemed Splinter didn’t hear it. He rushed to hug Donnie despite his protesting and very quickly grabbed Soxx by the shoulder, whispering loudly into their ear. “You couldn’t have found someone better? I mean yeesh!”

Soxx growled as the notion, signing angrily in response. Usually Donnie translated for them because splinter didn’t know any sign language, but this time he said: “I’m not translating that. That is my father. Try again.”

So Soxx tried again, this time looking smugly at Donnie. “Nope. Again… my fa-ther.” Donnie pointed at Splinter while drawing out the word.

Soxx rolled their eyes. Signing yet another response. Donnie nodded approvingly. “They appreciate your input but chose me, the superior son and wouldn’t change a thing.

“That is not what they said.” Leo snickered to no one in particular. “Glad y’all are getting married though.” Leo had a shit eating grin that made Donnie’s blood boil.

“We are not…” Donnie paused his rage mid sentence, glancing first at his dad in front of him. Splinter was starry eyed and giddy with a smile that could cure cancer. Then Donnie looked at Soxx who was curled in his arms. They blushed at the eye contact, but nodded approvingly. Donnie rethought his statement, and mentally re-arranged his plans for the future.

“Yeah… I knew you guys would be stoked.”

7 notes · View notes

morg-among-the-stars · 2 years ago

Text

Find Words As Light As The Birds

Word Count: 5,983

This fic is inspired by the below prompt and it is beautiful and sad at the same time. This fic contains topics of violence, mental health, self-harm and other dark/depressing things. If any of those things may be upsetting or triggering to you, then please do not read this fic.

————————————————————————

"It's really not that bad." Evan tells Jared, whose hand is gently turning his head to survey the results of whatever happened in the computer lab that Evan won't speak of.

Jared's hand is soft against Evan's bruised jaw, while his eyes flicker with flames.

He'd practically picked Evan up off the floor and shoved him into the nearest bathroom, handing him wet paper towels to clean the blood from his split lip as well as dried paper towels to soak up his tears.

They're still in the school bathroom, roughly fifteen minutes after the incident; Jared locked the door so Evan could have a second to compose himself. (After Evan could breathe properly again, Jared shook off those stupid nerves deep him his heart and asked Evan if he could assess the damage.)

Students aren't supposed to lock the bathroom doors, they are only allowed to lock the individual stalls. If Jared gets in trouble for picking his friend up off the ground, then sue him.

"Really not that bad? He looked like he was going to kill you. You looked like you were going to die." Jared states.

There's a light bruise on his jaw that barely touches his cheek, it'll get darker as it heals.

A big purply splotch, another thing that people can stare at him for and furrow their brows.

Evan's lip is also split, though it has (thankfully) stopped bleeding.

Evan's self-esteem is more injured than anything. He already felt like shit about himself; getting his butt kicked by a sociopath didn't help him.

"Why won't you tell me what happened?"

Evan looks at him, then vaguely down.

"I don't- I don't want to make it worse." He frets. "What if he goes after you, what if you get hurt because, because of me?"

Jared is grateful that Evan wants to keep him safe, but he can fight his own battles.

He frowns and his heartstrings are not pulled, but yanked while looking at Evan like this.

A little bloodied and definitely bruised, colored pink from crying as well.

Evan has learned to not be a "cry baby," but having Connor Murphy beat the ever-living shit out of him triggered a reflex of tears.

"If he goes after me, I'll deal with it. I don't want you to get hurt any further."

Jared's words are firm and reassuring, and Evan feels oddly comforted by the soft touch on his face that accompanies them.

Comforted and safe. He is safe for this short moment in time.

"Are you gonna go to the counselor about this?" It's a genuine question, but Evan just laughs. A small, bitter sound in his throat.

"They never actually help, and I'm... non-confrontational."

Jared doesn't know how Evan can be laughing at this situation, but it's admirable in a weird way.

Evan can be a bitter, sarcastic asshole like he is; the dumbest, most impulsive thought crawls into the back of his head. (His mind is telling him to let Evan's face go, but his heart feels like it's achieved the tiniest bit of intimacy that only his subconscious knows of.)

"I know you aren't, but it wouldn't be a confrontation. And, you can't let him hurt you and not say anything about it."

"Do you want to tell the counselor?" Evan asks. He knows that he should give Jared his personal space, but after being torn down so harshly, this comfort feels grand.

Being touch-starved is another thing to add onto the "Facets of Evan's Shitty Mental Health" list.

He continues on with honesty and a sigh, "I'd prefer you didn't, but you do what your heart tells you to do, you know? My heart told me to write the truth and... look where that got me."

Evan is visibly calmer now, though his words are somewhere between wise and sarcastic. He is looking at Jared curiously, wanting to know whether or not he'll go to the counselor.

He should mind the awkwardness that is his family-friend's hand so gentle on his face, but he doesn't.

Jared knows he should mind it, too, but his hand is unexplainably frozen.

Going to the counselor isn't on Jared's mind right now, Evan telling him to do what his heart tells him to do is. (He could hear the tone-shift towards the end of his sentence, but that sarcasm is what he sticks to. Hearing the soft-spoken boy speak with cynicism the same as he, himself, does... it turned a cog in his brain. A cog covered in cobwebs that shouldn't be dusted off for both of their sakes.)

Evan is somewhat calm and pink in the face, his body catching up with his mind slowly but surely; a halfway sarcastic sentiment in the air that Jared stupidly loves.

They're alone in the empty boy's bathroom, no jeering classmates to say anything about anything.

Both of them are still, Evan knows that it would be rude to snap his fingers in front of Jared's face to get him out of whatever trance he's in.

Jared looks at the thin red line on Evan's lip.

He thinks of cynicism and his subconscious and Evan finding a way to laugh as opposed to cry after a shit-storm.

Evan not pushing his hand away, something so small that is truly something so huge.

Jared does something stupid and impulsive, he kisses Evan, right where Connor's knuckles had landed and left a split-wound.

It's only for a second, then the door knob starts to shake violently.

"Hey!" A voice calls. It's Connor's voice, pissed off as all hell. "Open the door! I saw you run in here, Evan. You didn't explain this fucking letter!"

Jared isn't stupid, but kissing Evan once he finally calmed down wasn't the smartest idea he's had.

Even though Connor is yelling on the opposite side of the door, Evan's mind is fuzzy and on a delay. His eyes are wide and his body is still when Jared takes one big step back from him.

That was his first kiss.

Holy shit. That was his first kiss. Jared had kissed him.

"Jared- What..."

"I know, I know. God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." He trails off and Connor becomes frantic with the doorknob. "I'll handle him."

Evan wants to say something, but he can't before Jared gestures for him to stay put, and then goes around the corner to unlock and open the bathroom door. (He'll clean up his stupid messes later, Evan can't afford another bruise. That is the message that is newly set into Jared's mind.)

A loud thunk is heard and Evan listens to an enraged,

"You fucking psycho-"

Another thunk; after a third one, he can't stay put.

Jared has never been a violent person, but Evan sees him swinging and swinging at Connor, laying into him relentlessly in the hallway outside the bathroom.

He didn't even know Jared could punch, he has never needed to see such a thing.

Evan is still on that delay and he is thinking about Jared coming to his aid and then kissing his split lip better like some miracle healer.

At least, he dumbly thinks that's one possible reason why it happened. (An obvious explanation is within his reach, but it is impossible. Jared doesn't... could he? No, he doesn't. There's no way he does...)

He can ask later, but seeing Jared punch Connor Murphy in the face makes Evan want to kiss him on his own merit as a way of thanking him. That is his true, genuine thought process. Irony or an actual consideration, whatever it may be.

Jared had always made the crude joke that Evan wasn't straight.

If he isn't, then Jared is the explanation, or the person to blame, or something else.

Whichever makes more sense in a nonsensical situation.

The school security officer is pulling Jared away from Connor in the blink of an eye and yelling, "Hey, hey, hey! Break it up, boys, break it up!"

He sees Evan standing idly in the bathroom doorway with a deer in the headlights daze on his face and asks him sharply,

"You involved in this?"

Evan shakes his head, but Connor is no help,

"Yes, that freak wrote a letter about my sister. He's in love with her."

Those words are heavier when said out loud. Love, not even the usual timid like.

The officer takes all three of the boys to the counselor, where they sit in a row.

Connor on the left, Jared on the right, and Evan in the middle; involved in this.

The counselor sits up and starts right away,

"What's this letter that Connor is referring to?" Connor reaches into his pocket to hand it to her.

Though she stops him and looks at Evan, "May I read it?" It's his letter, at least that is respected in one way or another.

Evan, self-described as non-confrontational, weakly nods his head.

She reads over the paper, reading out loud to the group, "Because there's Zoe... you assumed it was your sister, Connor? Zoe Murphy?"

"Yes. He wrote it to make me look crazy."

"Giving him a bruised cheek and a split lip doesn't help your case..."

"I'll give you one, too, Klienman-"

"Enough." The counselor says sternly. "Evan, is this about Connor's sister?"

Evan looks between them, at Connor's ice-cold glare and Jared's curious but slightly guilty expression.

"Yes," He admits, "But, but I didn't mean it in a creepy way. I just- I wanted a friend and Zoe is... well, nice."

"But you like her. You've been staring at her for years, I've seen you do it!" Connor spits out. Jared looks a little pained by that sentiment but he understands that it's a truth he'll have to-

"I don't." Evan informs everyone, his voice is unsteady and soft. The room goes quiet; Connor looks pissed (still) and Jared looks extremely confused and even more curious than before. "I don't like Zoe like that."

Jared leans towards Evan and his brows furrow together, he barely has to ask his question, though he still whispers it,

"But I thought you... y'know..."

Evan looks at Jared, at his lips as he speaks, since his eyes are too much right now.

He understands what the guilty expression was for and his mind is in a whirlwind.

He doesn't know what he feels and he wants to ask Jared why he kissed him.

He'd still kiss him again as a thank you for standing up for him.

That thought alone, his odd willingness to kiss Jared keeps the whirlwind going and going.

But saying something definitive and clear is his best bet.

Even if it's partly a lie, a partial lie that he doesn't understand. It's better than saying that he does like Zoe.

The slight, silent movement of his head signals the "No," and Jared sits back in his chair.

"Then why did you write about my sister? Why her of all people? Why do you need her to be your friend?"

"Why do you sound like your accusing him of something? What, are you jealous he didn't want to be your friend or something?" Jared questions. He rants for a handful of seconds and Evan learns that Jared really does not like Connor, maybe even down-right hates him. "You aren't the most approachable guy out there, you're kinda insane and maybe a little full of yourself. Get that stick out of your ass and-"

"You've already fought enough, we don't need anymore." The counselor tells them, then looks at Connor.

"Connor, why did you need to result to violence with Evan?"

"I don't want a loner like him dating my sister, she deserves better than him." He answers instantly, then looks down at his lap, picking at the ripped threads of his jeans. "I'm trying to look out for her."

It's odd, but Evan finds himself laughing bitterly to himself. He was once told that it is easier to laugh than to cry and he really wants to cry.

So, he laughs for a second time today. (He laughed at some joke he overheard in the hallway earlier, which earned him a side-eyed glare. So, technically, the third time today.)

"Dude, what are you possibly laughing about now?" Jared asks him bluntly.

"Do you beat up everyone else who's ever tried to talk to her?" Evan asks Connor, fear still inside of him, but he doesn't know anything worse Connor could do to him.

"No, because no one else has written creepy shit about her."

"I could've written much worse." Evan states, ironically bold for him.

The room goes quiet, but for an entirely different reason. "I did write 'much worse'. I, I don't even think- I don't think you got to the bottom of the page before you, before you..."

Evan is stuttering and his voice is shaky, his bitterness (that Jared saw as ironically bold confidence) faltering. He gestures at his beat-up face, Connor sinks into the chair a little bit.

He coughs a little bit too loud and swallows down anything that is threatening to come out of him.

"Would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?" He quotes himself and looks to his right. "You know, Connor. I already feel like, like shit about myself. I didn't need you to beat me up, I do it myself enough." His words come out shaky, but they're undeniably truthful now.

Jared sits up, on alert for the second time today,

"Woah, what does that mean?" Evan is faced with the truth that he has barely skimmed the surface of with his own therapist.

Telling the counselor (who he avoids, because confidentiality doesn't exist as he's found out), the sociopath who knocked his lights out and his family-friend who kissed him who he may or may not want to kiss again makes his stomach ache.

The answer he gives is cryptic, but Connor gets it immediately and, after a few long seconds, Jared wears the expression of someone whose mental computer is struck with an error and all it can do is buffer, buffer, buffer.

"You know that pocket knife my dad gave me before he left? He taught me how to whittle sticks and then I taught you." Jared nods.

He vividly remembers Evan as a little boy, with that oak-wood-hilt pocket knife always on his person; ready for whatever box needed to be opened or stick needed to be shaved down into a toothpick.

It seems insignificant, but it isn't. Hell, the way Evan says it, with something close to a half-smile on his face takes more away from it.

That has always been one thing he is a master at, making his troubles seem smaller than they are.

Everyone is looking at him, ready for the "Well..." or something else, but it never comes.

It sinks in and Jared rests a hand on Evan's shoulder.

The counselor is on alert, telling him,

"Evan, that is a serious but separate matter we can talk about another time-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

He is pushing back, something no one in the history of the world has seen Evan Hansen do. Jared keeps his eyes steady on him, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

Though, his thoughts are cut short and shaken away,

"Jared, what was going through mind when you saw Evan in that state?"

"Do I have to say it? I felt... I felt terrible. What would you feel if your friend was on the ground getting pummeled? I tried to be a good friend and pick him up off the ground."

"But I thought we were just-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's bullshit."

"Watch your language."

Jared sighs and turns to Evan, holding onto his shoulder a little firmer.

"You're my friend, Evan. My real, legit friend, okay? I genuinely like you and I'd beat up any string-bean druggie to help you."

"Hey, dick-"

"Language-"

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry." Jared says, looking between Connor and the counselor. "But I wanted to help Evan. And if helping him involved getting all that blood out of his mouth and giving his pummeler what-for... then sue me."

It also involved kissing me, for some unknown reason, Evan thinks.

He also thinks how, in an instant, he's upgraded from family-friend to real, legit friend.

He might go home and throw up everything he's ever eaten, or run to the nearest bathroom and do the same.

Connor is already on the defense, saying that his family literally could sue him, but Jared is quick with a comment about how that wont hold up well. "You assumed the worst and gave couldn't-hurt-a-fly Evan Hansen a bruise on his face and a split lip."

Once again, their bickering back-and-forth is ceased and it comes down to this:

Three boys in a row in front of the school counselor's desk.

The first, Connor, resorting to violence in the name of protecting his sister. The last, Jared, resorting to violence in the name of protecting his friend (after many long years, he finally admits that he is Evan's friend). Evan, the in-between, more troubled than anyone first thought. Admitting that he, himself, hurts more in his heart than anything Connor's fists could ever do to him physically.

Jared, without the judgmental eyes of his classmates, sees Evan. He lets himself see Evan.

He knows that he'll have to explain himself for the abrupt smooch in the bathroom, he is trying to sort out how to do such a thing. How to explain something so illogical, something that he has come to terms with, but still plagues him, because it's Evan.

Evan, who he cannot have and hold.

The first and last are assigned after-school detention for the next few of days starting tomorrow, the in-between is told to go home for the rest of the day and to have a meeting with the school psychologist within the week.

From what he knows, the school psychologist is a separate version of the counselor, working closely with Dr. Sherman, but serving a more immediate purpose.

All three boys are dismissed and Evan makes the slow, utterly-drained walk towards the exit. He looks over his shoulder for a second and Jared is in the hallway, looking at him like he wants to say something.

If Evan squints before turning his head back around and walking out the door, he thinks Jared might've been wiping droplets off his glasses.

Unfortunately, Evan can't be picked up from school, so he waits for the public shuttle bus to pick him up.

Thick, grayish clouds hang high over his head. Great, rain, he thinks.

Evan loves the sound of rain, for it lulls him to sleep like a hefty dose of melatonin. But the feeling of cold rain soaking his clothes is one he despises, along with the startling and unpredictable sound of thunder.

Lightning (visually, at least) is something he likes, though the fear of getting struck by it takes over the small appeal that's there.

When it finally arrives, he rides the bus home while looking out the window, watching cars and people go on by.

The grayish clouds are fully gray by the time he gets home.

School has barely been in session for a week and he can sum it up in three words: exhausting, confusing, and surreal.

Zoe Murphy almost talked to him, he wrote the truth (of nearing hopeless for the school year, but holding hope that the kinder Murphy sibling would say, "Hey, Evan." to him) onto paper instead of fluff and over-optimism, one person (or as Jared called him, one "fucking psycho") signed his cast, Jared is his friend (who gave-slash-stole his first kiss), he admitted that he... never mind, and Connor Murphy nearly killed him.

(That last part is hyperbole, but he surely felt like the golden gates of Heaven were going to open any second after the first blow to his jaw... or the fire and brimstone of Hell would swallow him up, whichever he truly deserved. Sometimes, when he thinks of being old and gray, or in reality, finding a taller tree, or when he climbed that not-quite-tall-enough tree during summer, he hopes for the former, but believes that he is destined for the latter or nothing at all entirely.)

What a great list of things to tell his dad! (Sarcasm, so much sarcasm. Jared has more of an impact than he may think.)

If his dad ever calls to ask about his senior year, that is.

Evan trudges into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. He doesn't even bother with kicking off his shoes before shrugging off his backpack and falling onto his bed with a bouncing thud.

His exhaustion, both mental and physical, overcome him and he is out like a light.

A knock at the front door, followed by clap of rumbling thunder stir him awake a couple hours later; the sun has already set.

Going in and out of consciousness, his eyes fall on his cast, on those awful, big, bulky letters.

CONNOR

The knocking at the door pauses, then resumes, and Evan fears the worst.

Connor is outside his house, ready to really give it to him, to kill him and then go around school talking about the letter.

He pushes himself off the bed and peeks through the blinds of his window.

Through the now pouring rain and darkness, he can't see any cars. He can make out a car window, but nothing else.

To live or to die, that is the question.

Stay up here and hide, but live, or face Connor head-on and get his ass handed to him worse than before, but possibly (probably not) explain himself and clear his name.

The first is safer, but the second could help him in the long run.

Evan slowly goes down the stairs, making soft steps as if to act like the house is empty; it makes no sense, he isn't being robbed.

What is there that a burglar would even want? Nothing much besides his laptop, or the living room TV.

Focus, come on. Deep breath, open the door, is the last thought he has before his shaking hand twists the door knob and pulls the squeaky front door open.

"Jared, hi. What are you doing here? It's... late."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. I tried calling, but you didn't answer."

Jared is standing in the doorway, hair wet from the rain and his face painted with concern and sadness, but it feels more raw then it had in the bathroom earlier.

It was anger, earlier, but now it's worry.

Plain worry, Jared is worried about Evan, which he never is.

"Oh, I'm sorry... damnit- I was asleep, taking a nap upstairs."

Jared doesn't need those specifics, he knows that Evan sleeps in his bed. He steps into the house when he is motioned to do so.

Evan doesn't want him to catch a cold, even though his nurse mother told him that rain and inclement weather don't cause illness.

Jared has something he wants to tell Evan, something to talk to him about and neither of them want to continue the conversation in the entryway of the Hansen household, so they go up to Evan's room.

"I'm sorry," Jared says, pulling off his jacket and setting it near the bedroom door. Evan sits on his bed, fiddling with fixing his just-slept-on throw blanket. "I'm sorry about today. I shouldn't have... it was stupid, alright? I don't know- I don't why I did it that way."

"What do you mean?"

"I should've, y'know, asked at the very least. But I know you don't, um, swing that way, and it was stupid. And creepy."

There are words that Jared is beating around, right there in his mind. Evan's anxiously curious gaze isn't helping.

"Why did you..." Evan starts himself, but he doesn't want to think about it.

Jared can't like him like that, why on Earth would he? What is there that Evan has that's attractive? What could Jared see in him and think-

"I like you," Jared says out loud, then repeats himself within the second, "I like you, Evan."

Evan sits on the edge of his bed and he can't believe it. He almost doesn't want to believe it. Someone likes him, someone wanted to kiss him.

Someone so close and so far at the same time: Jared Klienman.

He is silent and his eyes are on Jared, who sits next to him on the bed and looks back at him, waiting a moment.

A moment before anxious thoughts take center-stage with one word.

"Why?"

Jared chuckles to himself, because the question is ridiculous (at least to himself, it's par for the course for Evan).

"What do you mean, 'Why'?"

Evan's instant thought is to think about that millisecond before Connor's fist hit his face, when his life flashed before his eyes and all he saw was a clear blue sky and tree leaves; he was on the forest floor of Ellison State Park once again. Broken, scared, somehow alive. His next thought is the first time that pocket knife had been used for a purpose besides opening packages and killing time with loose sticks.

A burden, a waste of money and time. The loner-loser who can't bring himself to say, "Hi." to anyone in school and who can't make a simple food-service order for himself. Who couldn't even succeed in getting rid of himself for the sake of his weary-eyed mother, Jared "Family-friend, why-would-I-sign-your-cast?" Klienman, and his dad who can't remember when his birthday is to send him a card or a text message at the very least: Happy birthday, buddy. Hope you have a great day. Love, Dad.

"Because I'm, well..." Evan is hesitant, he can't bring himself to laugh anymore. "Me, Jared. And, and I don't get why you'd like that." A shiver of sorts runs through him, and he closes his eyes.

Tears fall, one by one, then two by two, and more and more. He opens his eyes after a second, and talks as he lets the tears come down, "You couldn't- you wouldn't sign my cast, because we're 'family-friends', but now we're legit friends and you kissed me and you like me and... I don't get any of it."

Jared is quiet for a long moment, but he eventually figures out what to say,

"I'm sorry," He repeats, then stands up. Not to distance himself from Evan, far from it. (During some stressful times, Evan wants closeness and other times, he feels suffocated. His shoulders are tenser than usual; this is an example of "other times.")

He paces back and forth and Evan keeps his eyes down and barely focused on his knees.

"I'm stupid, alright? I have liked you for years, really. But neither of us are popular, let's be honest, and I wanted to try." Jared tells him. The brutal and honest truth, "I thought by being a dick to you, it would get me in with the cool kids, but it didn't. It never has, it's never worked. I'm sorry. You're the one person who isn't an asshole to me and I love that. So much, God."

He almost says that he loves Evan right then and there, but he doesn't. There are some things that can remain in his subconscious. He continues on, "I treat you like shit and I'm not cool for it. But I saw Connor going nuts and I thought, 'There's my chance, I can treat Evan like a reasonable person! I can help him and be a good fucking friend for once!'"

Jared's words come out pained, like he wants to beat himself up for all that he has done. Evan looks up at him after a while, he sees and hears repentance. Though, Jared is far from done. (Evan sees himself in Jared, rambling and explaining and pacing back and forth. It's incredible.)

There's a self-depreciating tone in Jared's voice, one that Evan has never heard before. "I tried to help you today, I cleaned you up and looked over the damage in the... in the gayest way I could, really. I didn't need to get all up-close-and-personal with you, but I did. Because we were in private, I didn't need to be 'cool'-"

Evan stops his rambling and asks the elephant in the room that he needs to know,

"Why did you... do what you did?"

Jared's pacing stops and his eyes meet Evan's. He knows what he means. It's what he was going to eventually reach, but he planned on stalling for a little while longer.

"You looked, I'll be honest, like shit, but you managed to be funny about all of it. And I've never seen you do that. You said something about, 'doing what your heart wants' and you let me keep my hand on you for way too long and-"

He pauses to catch his breath, Evan is hanging on to every single word. "I did what you said, I went with my really dumb heart. And I'm sorry-"

"You don't... you don't have to keep apologizing. I forgive you. It doesn't excuse what you did, but I can't tell you how happy I am that you're my friend. My actual legitimate friend."

It is all Evan has ever wanted, a friend.

In part, he gave up on Jared and knew that there was no point after a while. He couldn't ever get up the nerve to talk to Zoe or anyone else for that matter, so he accepted his fate of being alone.

But then, in his time of need, Jared showed that there is a beating heart underneath the wanting to belong and the desperate attempt to give up any feelings for Evan and his cool-guy act that he uses to get people to laugh at his jokes and invite him to their lunch table.

Jared looks a little stunned, like he is being forgiven too easily (Evan forgives easily, because he has never had to reason to hold grudges against anyone, except his dad) and he asks,

"So... you aren't- we're okay?"

Evan nods,

"Yeah, we're okay."

He now wants closeness. He dries his eyes on his shirt and non-verbally tells Jared to come back to sit with him on the bed.

Evan wants to hug him, in all honesty.

Though, Jared has never been too much of a hugger, which he respects-

"I know I already... y'know, but can we... hug it out?"

They don't need to hug anything out, but Evan takes this opportunity while it's right in front of him.

Jared hold him secure in his arms, longer than a hug typically lasts, but neither of them are letting go.

Evan closes his eyes and he thinks about Jared wiping off his glasses after the meeting with the counselor.

But for the moment, he stays silent.

He feels safe, a different type of safe than he'd felt earlier in the bathroom.

Maybe it's because Jared is hugging him for the first time since they were kids, or that they are definitively alone; in Evan's house at night while the rest of the world settles down.

The rain comes down hard outside the house and the settling world, and they hold onto each other in silence.

Until Evan speaks up softly,

"Were you crying earlier?"

"What? When?"

"After we left the counselor's office."

This is the least vulnerable thing Jared has said the whole night. He admits,

"Yeah... I was."

"Why?"

Jared's hold on Evan tightens,

"I didn't know you- that you were in that kind of pain, but I never asked, because I was too much of an ass." Evan hugs him tighter in return,

"You didn't know, I didn't tell you or anyone until today."

Jared sighs over Evan's shoulder,

"I know but, but I should've at least tried to ask if you were okay; you hide it well."

A little too well, Evan has always been good at hiding his troubles and hiding the ways he copes with them.

"I want to be a better friend to you, alright?" Jared tells him. Evan wants that, too. He wants to hold up his end and be more honest, more truthful, even if it hurts.

His truth made Jared cry, he's never seen Jared cry.

He doesn't want to see Jared cry, he wants to turn a new leaf.

He believes in Jared, that he can change.

In turn, he can believe in himself.

"Alright."

It's a long, tight embrace that falls into silence.

Silence of understanding, understanding of each other.

Today was painful, tomorrow is a new day.

Before Jared inevitably goes home, Evan does thank him, though not how he thought of during the day.

He doesn't kiss him. He tells him how much he means to him and how thankful he is that someone stood up for him.

(He keeps the latent thought that he is glad his first kiss was with someone he cared about to himself. Previously, in his mind, he envisioned being out at a bar to legally drink away his troubles and some girl would be intoxicated and find him handsome when not all-there, and invite him back to wherever she lived. In his life-long desperation for some sort of connection, he would be seduced and get the milestones of a young man's life out of the way, no true feeling involved.)

But, though it was not super ideal, his first kiss was from someone who likes him and that's more than good enough for him.

Jared gets through detention and Connor avoids his glares, though there are plenty of them.

The school psychologist is helpful and she advises Evan to get rid of the pocket knife if he can, though she understands that it’s the one remaining piece of a happy father-son bond he has.

Evan doesn’t get rid of it, but he does hide it in the back of his closet, out of his easy reach.

He gets better at talking to people, talking to Jared at least, about how he feels. He doesn’t feel alone, he is not a burden or a waste of anyone’s time.

Jared goes out of his way to prove this, he has a sleepover with Evan for the first time in years and he has never seen his friend smile or laugh so much in the span of a few hours.

Time goes on and Evan stops needing those painful ways to cope with his loneliness, he isn’t lonely anymore.

Though, he still has bad days. Days where doubt slithers into his mind and he thinks that Jared will leave him once again and he’ll be back at square one.

But that doesn’t happen, Jared is in no place to leave. He isn’t the best with reassurance, but he says enough to get his point across; he’ll be with Evan until the end of time if he can help it.

It’s what Evan has always wanted, a friend to be by his side, to stand up for him and to hug him when he cries and hoist him up and cheer when he achieves something.

It’s what Jared has denied himself for so long, Evan’s friendship and kindness, which he will not take for granted. Never again.

Senior year turns out alright.

It started off less than ideal, but it turns out alright.

#dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen fic #kliensen #i love kliensen <<33 #evan x jared #movie evan hansen #movie jared klienman #angst #so much angst #GRAB YOUR TISSUES #I CRIED WHILE WRITING IT SOOO YEAHHH #I wrote the saddest and then the sweetest parts all in one go #yay for me lmao

6 notes · View notes