DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

Prompt 2-Suicide Attempt: 16 hours (Treebros)

Jared dropped his grocery bag, looking at the roof, right next to his apartment. The balcony door was cracked open. Evan used the guest key to climb up. "Holy fuck," he whispered to himself, sprinting into the building. "Evan, I swear to god. Do not do what I think you're doing!" Jared flew into the door, dropping his groceries on the floor next to the stairs that led him to the balcony in his apartment. He felt his heart rate begin to rise as he tore the door open.

Just in time to see Evan fall right in front of him.

"Evan!"

Jared found himself tripping down the stairs, attempting to aid the poor boy who had just fallen three stories. He prayed that his friend was okay, but when he got there, Evan was lying in his stomach, his left arm bent at an odd angle, and blood was pouring from his forehead. Jared whipped out his phone, finding tears forming in his eyes. He couldn't do this. Not now.

"911, What is your emergency?" The operator spoke calmly.

"My friend... he... he fell off the building. He... he tried to k-kill himself," Jared whispered, softly. He spat the additional information into the phone, checking over Evan, trying to find any hip. He turned him over. "He... he's still breathing," Jared whispered. "Please help."

By then, the residents had heard the commotion and the fuss that Jared was making, and attempted to figure out what was wrong. Jared was trying not to touch Evan, watching him slowly die. He should have stayed down there. He should have helped him.

—

"ETA, 10 minutes. Patient unresponsive, approximately 29 year old male, head trauma, several fractures along his left arm. Fractures along the temporal bone and the parietal bone. No ID. Prep trauma bay six." That was Connor's cue. He yawned, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he stood.

"Murphy, you don't have to take this one. You're exhausted. Let me take it." Doctor beck looked at him. She was the night shift surgeon, and they were short a boss that night, so Connor helped wherever he could. He didn't let exhaustion stop him. He stood up.

"I should be fine," he sighed, looking at her. "You deserve a break."

"Yeah, Connor, but you need one." She sat him back down, looking at him. "I think I should be perfectly fine, Connor. Get yourself a soda. Rest. You've been working nonstop for four hours. I think I can handle this."

Connor sighed, looking up at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, opening her mouth to say something when the radio interrupted her. "ETA, 4 minutes. Patient identified by family friend as 28 year old Evan Hansen. BP: Sixty over forty and dropping. Heart rate: 124 and rising. Look alive." The radio went dead, and Connor's face drained of all color. It took him a moment to register, and he just sat in a daze for a couple of minutes, no one able to break through to him until the ambulance was outside.

Connor stood, not listening to the protests from his coworkers as Dr. Beck got prepped. "Connor, you can't operate on him."

Connor didn't even know that he wanted to until Evan was rolling past him, blood on his forehead, his chest barely rising and falling. "I... I have to. You don't understand. I have to. Evan!" E let out a scream that no one paid any attention to aside from the receptionist, and a couple of his colleagues, including his sister, who managed to get into the nursing profession.

Zoe Murphy was the one with enough pent up sibling rivalry hatred to be able to shove him back into the chair, holding his shoulders. "Connor," she started. "Connor, look at me."

Connor tried to focus on her, and not the boy who he had fallen in love with. Not the boy who he married. Not the boy who he could be saving, right now. He couldn't focus on anything else. "I... Zoe I can't."