A Life Worth Living «tree bros»

14. your personal punching bag

((tw for graphic fight, and after that a graphic self harm scene.))

Connor did get violent when he came down from a high.

"C-Con-Connor!" Evan shouted, backing up as Connor banged his head on the side of the building they just climbed down from. 

"What the
fuck
do you want, Hansen?!" Connor screamed back, pure anger dropping from each word he said, and it pained Evan.

He already felt tears pricking in his eyes cause in all honesty, Connor did make him want to cry when he was angry. He aged being yelled at, especially from someone who he loved.

"Connor please--"

"Please what?" Connor yelled back, fist colliding with the shaky wood.

Evan already saw red smeared on the wood from his fist.

"Fuck, where is it?" Connor mumbles to himself, plenty loud enough for Evan to hear.

"C--"

"Don't try to talk me out of this!" Connor yelled. "I'll end up hurting you if I don't!"

"Don't what? What are you looking for?!" Evan yelled back, topping Connor voice.

"Something sharp!" Connor yelled.

There was a beat of silence, Evan's face contorting with fear, frustration and utter sadness before he finally came to a decision.

"Punch me," Evan stated, voice oddly steady as he looked directly into Connor's eyes, that soon filled with shock.

"Evan, n--"

"Punch me hard, Connor!" Evan yelled, voice raising with every word he cried out. "Think of everyone who's hurt you! Think of your family, think of everyone at school that looked down at you! Who started rumors! Think of how shitty people make you feel, and think of your pure anger towards the world. This is the way to finally say 'FUCK YOU' to everyone who has wronged you! Punch me, Connor."

Connor clenched his fist. It slowly wound back, and next thing Evan knows the air is forced out of his, fist colliding with his side, forcing him to slam into a nearby overgrown oak tree. Everything with the contact burned, stinging so deep under his skin, but he didn't want Connor hurting himself.

"You can do better than that!" Evan shouted at Connor.

Connor slammed against Evan on the tree, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him close to his face.

"Do you want to do fucking worse than that, Hansen?" Connor whispered in a low, deep and raspy voice.

"Do it," Evan challenged. "Give me your fucking worst. I can take it."

"This isn't right," Connor groaned back, anger still evident on his face, grip even stronger, but now his fists we're pushing into Evan's neck.

"Neither is pot," Evan shrugged, tainting him with a smirk. "Now fucking beat me up. Think of whoever used to do this to you, who used to slam you into lockers. Who used to call you the worst of names. Take it out, Connor."

Connor slammed Evan to the ground, causing him to sputter and cough from all the pressure suddenly released from his throat and shoulders.

While he was down, Connor kicked him. Kicked him hard in the side three times before Evan got up to his knees.

Once he did, Connor bent down and punched him hard against the cheek, feeling the warm, familiar feeling of warm blood plaster over his knuckles. That's what he needed. He needed bloodshed somehow.