BMC/DEH One Shots (Requests Are Closed) Discontinued

Treebros- He's Still Here

Thank you to NotTheRealAthena the amazing story request!

This get really dark at the end so, TW: MENTIONS OF SELF HARM, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, AND DEATH. sorry...

Holy crap. I think to myself. These are Connor’s parents? I shift uncomfortably in my chair with my words looking back at me. “Mr. and Mrs. Murphy, I-I. Well, first of all I'm so sorry for your loss. You see I-”

“Evan, it's your loss too. You were friends with him, right? The letter is addressed to you. Dear Evan Hansen, that's your name.” Mrs. Murphy says.

“I-It is, but, Connor-”

“He wrote that letter to you. Do have any idea what any of it means?”

“I- no, but, um.”

“Evan, it's a lot to take in, I know,” she grabs her husband's hand, “We know, but you have to try and help us.”

“Honey, maybe we should give him some time,” Mr. Murphy looks at his wife.

“I suppose,” she looks over at me now, “Evan, how about you come over for dinner on Thursday? We can talk more then. Is that alright?”

I panic, “Uh, Uh yeah! I mean, yes. T-that would be nice.”

Mrs. Murphy smiles. She digs through her purse and pulls out a slip of paper and a pen. She scribbles something down and hands it to me. I look at what she wrote. It's an address.

“Our home address,” she says still holding it out to me.

I gingerly take it. I try to pull my arm back in, but Mrs. Murphy has a hold on it.

“Larry, look!”

I realize now my grave mistake. I reached out with my casted arm. I curse myself in my own head.

“It's his name,” Mr. Murphy exclaims. “So, you really were friends.”

I pull my arm in with some force, “I need to leave.”

“Evan wait!” Mrs. Murphy calls after me.

Like an idiot, I pause.

“Were you friends? With him?”

I can't do this, “I have to leave.” I pull open the door and speed walk out.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this. I sit at the table with the Murphy's in their home. I bounce my leg up and down and up and down and up so violently that I'm practically murdering the table.

“Evan, are you okay? You're shaking,” Mrs. Murphy puts her hand on top of mine.

“Uh, sorry,” I pull my hand away.

“Sorry? For what?” Mr. Murphy asks.

I struggle with my words for a moment, “Sorry. I have a bad habit of apologizing.”

“Well, nonetheless, we are happy to have you here.” Mr. Murphy smiles.

I chuckle nervously.

“So, what was your relationship with Connor like?” Zoe, who's sitting a few feet to my left, glares suspiciously at me.

“We, uh. He wanted to keep it, like, uh, a-a secret? I don't know why. I tried asking him, but he kinda j-just, like, got mad? So, I, uh, I didn't press on.”

Mrs. Murphy looks at me then at her husband and back at me, “Why would he want to keep it a secret?”

“I-I don't know. M-maybe it's because he wouldn't have wanted to be seen with a loser like me.”