Dear Evan Hansen One Shots [open requests!!]

Ben x Laura

"So how has Ben been lately?" Kristolyn asks as we eat our salads.

I take a glance around the mostly empty restaurant, shrugging. "Only okay."

"Had the depression gotten worse?"

"I don't think it's gotten worse. I just think that it won't go away. His meds aren't efficient anymore and he knows that, but he refuses to see a doctor. I have to drag him out of bed every day because he oversleeps, then doesn't wanna get up. It's very tiring for both of us, but he doesn't listen to me."

"Do you think it'll get worse soon?"

"Yeah, definitely. I've talked to all of his family and they've tried to talk to him, but he just doesn't listen. I don't want it to get worse."

"Babe, let's move on. I don't want you to get too upset." Kristolyn gives me a sad smile. "So, me and Mike went out to dinner last night and he got so drunk..."

I could barely pay attention during Kristolyn's story, although I knew it would be hilarious. I barely catch that she tells me the three of them are going back to her house for a movie night after our dinner.

Ben and I have been dating for years, almost six now. Ben has had depression and anxiety since we met, and even before that. He's been so good for most of our relationship, but lately the depression has been getting the worst of him.

"I should get going. It's almost ten. Have fun with Mike and Will tonight. Take lots of pictures for me." I give Kristolyn a hug before driving back mine and Ben's house.

I hang up my bag and take off my jacket, draping it over the back of the living room couch, not bothering to lock the front door for the time being. "Ben? Honey, where are you?" I call into the house, expecting to hear a muffled answer, but I get nothing.

My eyes dart towards the clock, seeing that it's past 10:30. Ben is very much a night owl and doesn't go to sleep until closer to midnight, so there's not chance he's asleep.

"Benjamin?" I call even louder, walking faster towards the stairs towards our bedroom.

I quickly kick off my shoes, noticing the bed perfectly made and the entire bedroom clean. Not a single thug is out of place. I wouldn't say that either of us are too messy, but neither of us are this thorough when cleaning.

"Ben!" I shout, walking towards the connected bathroom, the door closed.

I step further onto the rug, and my feet are suddenly met with a mushy and wet carpet. I scrunch up my nose, wondering why the carpet is soaking wet.

"Ben?" I knock on the door, turning the door knob to find it's unlocked. Maybe he just didn't hear me.

I slowly open the door, and nearly fall to the floor.

The bathtub is filled with bloodied water, Ben's wrists slit and his lifeless body in the tub. His feet are sticking out, along with his turned head and arms. He's wearing a stained-red white tee shirt and what looks to be sweatpants, his hair completely disheveled.

"B-Ben. Oh my god." My voice is barely there as I trip my way over to him, the tiled floor a big puddle.

I drop to my knees, turning off the running faucet that spews ice cold water, moving his head towards me. "Ben? Baby, can you hear me? Please open your eyes." I beg, tears filling my eyes and streaming down my cheeks.

My hands shake as I reach towards one of his mutilated wrists, then pull away. My stomach turns as I crawl over to the closet and pull out two crisp white towels, placing each one against his wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.