Connor Murphy: Case Reopened

Chapter Three: Arguments and Unexpected Visits

A/N: Warning, swearing and I guess a kind of grizzly description at the end. I know this is a bit slow paced right now, but fear not! There is a direction, and after this chapter the wheels of plot development shall begin to spin with vitality. I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I enjoy writing it!

"This is all you're fault, Larry!"

Larry Murphy sighed and looked up from the sports section, realising his wife wasn't going to drop her anger.

"Look, Cynthia, I don't see how this is my fault. It's not my fault our son was on drugs! I didn't force those pills down his throat!" Her expression darkened further, and she snatched the newspaper from his hands.

"This is what I mean, sports! He had to like sports, you always forced them on him, nothing he was interested in mattered at all to you, did it!?" Larry rose from his chair, anger forming now on his face.

"Well I'm sorry if I wanted my son to be normal! I mean he grew his hair and painted his nails, if I'd got him into sports he might've been like any other teenage boy, but no, he had to push me away!" 

"Well if you'd just shown some care towards him, if you'd acted like a father, he wouldn't have!" Larry's face was etched with fury.

"I TRIED, CYNTHIA, BUT I GUESS I FAILED," he tried to calm himself, "look, it doesn't matter now." He thought that might have dealt with it, but whilst her voice was lower, every word dripped with rage.

"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?"

"Look, you want it straight, Cynthia? Connor is dead. He was no good when he was alive, and whilst our daughter, the good one, is still here, she should be our focus now." Cynthia simply listened, and thought back to earlier that day, as tears began to roll down her cheek.

Why bother with me when there's Miss Fucking Perfect Zoe?

"Wasn't she always, Larry?" He looked confused.

"What? Of course not, we were too busy with-" Cynthia interrupted him.

"Yes she was Larry! Why do you think he hated us? It's because he thought we hated him! YOU! You never gave him any affection, you treated Zoe like a queen, but when Connor slipped up or cried out for help you were quick to slap him, LITERALLY sometimes, back into line!"

"What was I supposed to do? Connor was a drugged up psycho, Cynthia, and you know it! Remember that heightened craze he got into last year-" again, Cynthia interrupted.

"Yes! And you know what he said that was so threatening? He said that his parents hated him because he ruined the perfect family, and that everyone hated him!"

"How could you possibly know that Cynthia?" And then she crossed Larry's line.

"Evan said that-"

"EVAN HANSEN!? Oh, no Cynthia, don't you dare use anything that liar says to argue with me. You've fooled yourself into thinking Connor was a good person, but he wasn't," Larry's voice continued to rise to crescendo, "Connor was a bad person, a druggie, abusive, cruel and I'm glad he's dead!" Cynthia, almost channelling her son's anger, ended the argument.

"FUCK YOU, LARRY!" Cynthia stormed out of the living room and up the stairs. Standing before the second door on the left, the key in her shaking hand, she began to unlock the door. Connor's room. The door groaned from a lack of use, as it slowly revealed the cold, dark space. There wasn't that much furniture, just a bed in the corner, next to which stood a small bookshelf slash dresser, upon which sat ten dusted books. The only other things in the room were the broken radiator underneath the window, and an old Spiderman wardrobe Connor had since he was a boy. No one apart from Connor himself really went in here, maybe Evan once, but not recently. Cynthia began to tear again as she remembered that night, after Evan left. Larry had grabbed everything of Connor's, threw it in here, and locked the door. For months, no mention of him at all, he just faded away. Well no more. She reached down, snatched up Connor's backpack from the floor, ran downstairs, and without a word to Larry, flew out of the house.

Evan's house was only two blocks away, so she decided to go there. Given his anxiety, she pulled out her phone to let him know she was on her way.

Evan looked up from the reams of paper before him, and turned to "Connor", who seemed more preoccupied with the locks of his hair he was twiddling in his fingers.

"Hey, Connor, could you help me with his maths stuff?" "Connor" chuckled and looked over at Evan.

I'm just a figment of your imagination, I'm not some supercomputer made of maths. Why are you even doing maths, I thought you wanted to do, err, tree...stuff?

Evan sighed.

"You mean my combined degree in Biology and Advanced Forestry? (A/N: Literally made that up) I know, but I need the maths course to get enough credits to get into college. It's the only way." "Connor" was about to reply, when Evan's phone began to ring. Odd, an unknown number. Still, good enough a time to practice his phone skills. He answered.

"H-hello?" 

"Evan, its me, uh, Con-, uh, Mrs Murphy. I know it's late, but, can I perhaps pop round?" Evan was surprised by her desire to visit, but maybe some human company would halt his decent into madness.

"Of course Mrs Murphy, is everything alright?" Evan asked, concern in his voice.

"Oh, I'll be fine, I'm just, tried of having to pretend I have no son. Listen, I'm bringing Connor's backpack with me. It hasn't been opened since he was, found, with it. I thought we could have a look." Evan was slightly confused.

"Mr Murphy said he was found only with hi-, uh, my letter?" Cynthia made a sad chuckle through the phone.

"I hid it once we got to the hospital, the police only got a quick look, I knew Larry would burn it if he knew it was there. I managed to hide so many of his things in the garage, until, that night..." she trailed off. Evan was now slightly awkward.

"Listen, everything will be okay, I'll see you soon."

"Bye Evan." Evan hung up, and turned to "Connor", who looked straight at him, poised with curiosity.

"That was your mom, she's just coming over with you're old backpack, she wants to go through it with me." "Connor" slightly chuckled.

You gave my mom your number? God, Hansen, what is it with you and my female relations? His face then contorted into one of confusion.

Wait, what did she say she was bringing?

"Your old backpack, the one you were found with." "Connor" was still confused.

When the fuck did I ever own a-

"Connor" was interrupted by a knock at the door. Evan walked towards it. He assumed that Mrs Murphy must've called from down the street, for two blocks in twenty seconds was speed on a Usain Bolt level. When he opened the door however, he screamed, for instead of the slightly wrinkled, kindly, ginger Cynthia Murphy, Evan was face to face with a horrible sight.

It was a boy, about Evan's age based on his height, who was completely battered. His, brown (Evan guessed) hair was matted and a complete mess, and his face was drenched in sweat and dried blood. He sported a pair of broken glasses, the left lense having deposited itself as little shards sticking out of the boy's  blackened, closed eyelid. His other eye was open, but extremely bloodshot. Bruises completely covered his arms and legs, as well as hundreds of obviously self inflicted cuts, which trickled blood, pooling by his palms and slowly dripping onto the ground. His clothes were torn and dirty, and to top it he had a slight smell of, was it burn, or something else? Evan was terrified into silence, but luckily, the apparition spoke first, in a broken, pained voice.

"E-Evan..." Said boy simply made a sort of half groan, half hmm noise, as if to say 'I don't know you', to which the figure just whimpered, an aura of overwhelming sadness emanating from him.

"A-acorn..." 

At this, Evan gasped. No, it couldn't be, could it?

"Jared?"

A/N: Oh, I love cliffhangers! Ah ha ha, I'm so evil! Seriously though, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'm planning for the more detective side to emerge soon, but I hope the beginning chapters have been alright. Thanks again for reading.

Sincerely, Me. (References, yay!)