Evan was transferred straight from the hospital to a psychiatric facility, where he would stay for two weeks. Connor visited every single day, the two growing closer than ever. There was a lot of rainfall over those two weeks, and Connor had managed to convince Evan that school was canceled due to flooding so he could skip to go see him.
Evan did his best to pretend to be better. He tried to take complete control over his stutter, punishing himself whenever he began to. Patients couldn't have objects to harm themselves, so he had to get creative, sometimes pinching himself with his nails and twisting, others scratching himself to the point of drawing blood.
"You seem to be doing a lot better." Connor beamed at the end of the two weeks. "You're like, not even the same person."
Evan said nothing to this. He was the sane Evan, he just no longer showed it, and Connor liked him better that way. Connor liked him the most when he suppressed his feelings and pretended to be someone he wasn't. He always knew his anxiety was a burden, but he didn't know his entire personality was.
When Evan returned home after Heidi checked him out, he was surprised to see Connor in his driveway, "I thought we could celebrate your release," he said, gesturing towards his car, "You in?"
Evan smiled shakily and agreed before running inside to change. He had little time to decide what to wear as Connor was already there, but he was more stressed with his outfit whenever he was going to be with Connor. It was overwhelmingly warm outside, so Connor was confused to see Evan in a long-sleeved shirt pulled over his palms. They weren't even out if the driveway before Evan began sweating like a pig, Connor immediately turning the AC to the max despite his own chilliness.
"Interesting outfit choice." He raised an eyebrow at Evan. "It's like, almost ninety degrees."
"I, um, I get cold easily?" Evan said as he scratched the back of his neck, cursing his slight stutter as get dug his nails into his skin, "I wanted to b-be prepared."
"The AC is on high and you're still sweating."
"I'm just nervous."
This was the wrong thing to say. Connor raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Evan before smirking slightly, "So should I be flattered or offended?"
"Huh?"
"I make you nervous?"
"I, uh, that's n-not what I-" Evan looked away from Connor, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his nails into his already sore wrist.
"Woah, Evan," Connor's eyes widened as he reached over to pull Evan's hand away from his skin, "What the hell are you doing? I was joking."
"Right, sorry." Evan bit his lip and looked down. "Sorry, I'm trying not to b-be anxious, really am."
"Don't pretend to be okay if you're not. That's not what I want. Just communicate with me so I can try to help you."
"But it's annoying. I can feel people getting annoyed with me and I can't help it s-so I thought punishing myself would make me associate stuttering with pain and I'd s-s-stop."
"You're smart enough to know that that's not how anxiety works," Connor sighed, keeping his eyes on the road as he registered what Evan had said, "Wait, what do you mean punishing yourself?"
Evan remained silent, his face burning red as he perspired. Connor knew everything he needed to know. Evan was most likely not ready to come home from the hospital.
"That might explain why you're wearing a long-sleeved shirt in ninety-degree weather," Connor whispered as he parked the car in front of a retro ice cream parlor.
"I, are you mad?" Evan whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and looking at his lap, "'Cause I totally get it if you are."
"I am mad," Connor sighed as Evan tensed, "but not at you. I should have noticed the signs. I should have picked up on the little changes in your behavior, and I guess I did but I didn't think about it, and I should have. I should have known that you wouldn't trade your signature polo for anything, especially a long-sleeved shirt in the warmth. I should have known things wouldn't get better this quick. I need you to stop pretending to be better because I can't help you if I don't know. Let me help you."
"It's n-not your job to help me, Connor. I should just be n-normal, and even if not, that shouldn't be your responsibility."
"As your friend, it is my job and responsibility. You deserve to be okay. Say it."
"What?"
"Say it. I wanna hear you say, 'I'm Evan Hansen, and I deserve to be okay.'"
"I'm Evan Hansen, and I deserve to b-be okay?"
"Good, now we just have to work on getting you to believe it. I could kill for some ice cream right about now, you?"
The two smiled at each other as they opened the doors and walked up to the ice cream parlor, flustered, whether they showed it or not.
