Treebros Oneshots

Connor In The Bathroom

A/N: Welcome! Hope you enjoy!

What better way to start off a fanfiction than two fandoms in one title?

"Connor! It's time for school!"

"Moooom," Connor groaned, flipping his pillow over his head. "I don't want to go!" came the muffled complaint.

"Too bad! Get up dickhead, I'm going to be late!" Connor heard his sister, Zoe, shout from downstairs. She was a year younger than him, and yet, she was still smarter, though he would never tell her that.

"Fine," he muttered to himself, swinging his legs off the bed. He lifted his arms above his head in a stretch and yawned.

Connor glanced around his room. His room was where he spent almost all of his time, so it obviously looked lived in. There was so much stuff cluttered on his desk, it was practically it's own storage area. His bookshelves were packed with books he never read, covered in dust. It smelled faintly of weed and smoke, but maybe that was just his imagination. After all, he did have a lifetime supply of air freshener for just that reason.

He finally got up and didn't even bother to change out of his pajama shirt; he just threw on a sweatshirt and some jeans. He tied up his sneakers, ran a hand through his hair, and shuffled downstairs.

Cynthia, Connor's mom, was washing dishes, busy cleaning, as always. Larry, his dad, had already left for work. Zoe was sitting at the table, doing god knows what on her phone.

It was the first day of school after Christmas break. While other kids would be talking about what they did and how much fun they had, Connor would be dragging his feet in the shadows behind them. Watching. Waiting to be seen.

The rich kids would talk about how much fun it was in Hawaii, or Paris, or Italy. The poor ones would pretend to know what that's like, and try to fit in. The in betweens would talk about their family and how boring it was, and how the only thing that kept them going were their presents. It would be the same thing, every year.

Whoop-de-fucking-do.

Zoe stood up and walked to the door, slamming it against the wall. "Finally," she muttered as she passed Connor, and he rolled his eyes.

"No need to be such a bitch," he snapped, already in a bad mood. Cynthia had just said goodbye before he slammed the door and walked to Zoe's car.

"Well, if I'm such a bitch, maybe you can just walk to school and freeze your ass off. How about that?" She replied haughtily.

Connor didn't say anything, knowing that she wouldn't hesitate to leave him in the cold snow. He didn't want to suffer that much.

He and his family didn't have that great of a relationship. Connor was in therapy, but his therapist wasn't helping him in the slightest. His parents didn't know what to do. Even with all the money they had, they still couldn't figure out what to do with Connor.

When Zoe and Connor got to school, there were no kids out front. They were already inside. Class started in two minutes.

"I told you we would be late," Zoe said, grabbing her backpack and running to her first class. Lucky for Connor, his first class was quite close to the entrance, so he didn't have to walk far, which made his lazy self feel a bit better.

He walked into English and sat down just as the bell rang. Mr. Kleinman, the teacher, was an annoying as hell asshole, but he wasn't bad. Not as bad as Ms. Colin, the science teacher.

"Alright class," he said, gaining their attention (which is not an easy feat with high schoolers). "Today, we are going to..."

Connor zoned him out. He looked around, studying his classmates, trying to figure out where they had been over break. Nathaniel, Sarah, and Melanie all had new tans, so he guessed Hawaii. Everyone else probably just stayed here, because none of them were that rich.

He looked up front to where Evan Hansen sat. Connor was pretty sure he might be the only person in the school who knew Evan's full name. His left arm was covered in a cast, and it was clear he still wasn't used to it, which means the break must have been recent. Connor wondered what happened.

He was jolted back into reality when he heard someone repeatedly yelling his name. "CONNOR MURPHY!" Mr. Kleinman yelled.

Connor looked up. "What?" he sighed.

"You must be able to answer the question," he said, exhausted. "What does a sentence always have to end with?"

"I don't know. *insert smart aleck answer heere because I'm too dumb and lazy to think of one*

"To the office," he said, eerily calm. "Now."

Connor shrugged and walked out, down the hall. But he didn't go to the office. He went in to the bathroom and pulled out his emergency stash of weed.

He lit a joint and leaned his head back against the wall, sliding down to sit on the the ground. Some may say it's disgusting, but it's Connor. What do you expect?

He didn't know how long he was in there, but he knew it wasn't long enough to get as good a high as he wanted, because suddenly, the door opened.

Evan Hansen comes running in, gasping and breathing hard. He leans against the wall and then notices Connor, and his breathing gets worse.

"W-what are you-what are you-what are you doing h-here?" he asked. "You're s-s-supposed to b-be in the o-officcce."

"Yeah, well, I didn't feel like it," he mumbled, standing up. "Are you okay?"

"F-fine," Evan replied, voice wavering. Connor stood there, and after a little, Evan's breathing finally slowed, until it was normal again. Connor thought about asking what had caused that mini panic attack, but decided against it. Evan probably didn't want to tell him anyway, and, besides, he didn't really care.

Right?

"So, uhm, what happened to your arm?"

"Oh, I, uh, I fell out of, of a t-tree."

"You fell out of a tree? That is just the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard. Oh my god."

"Y-yeah." Evan tried to laugh to, but it came out as a sort of strangled cat noise. He cleared his throat and then continued. "But-but it was really funny because there was just this solid ten minutes where I was just like, laying there, on the ground, and I kept thinking, 'Any second now. And second now, someone is going to come and get me, and they'll take care of me, and I'll be okay. Come on. Any second now.' And it felt like I had been there for forever and I just kept waiting, and, the funny thing is, no one ever did come, I just ended up laying there for a long time and, that's, the, uhm, funny part, so, yeah."

Connor was speechless. He just stood there, looking at Evan, feeling a slight hint of pity for him. "Jesus Christ," he said, running a hand through his hair.

Connor looked at Evan's arm, trying to picture him falling from that height, and laying there. Then he noticed that the cast was blank, completely white.

"No one's signed your cast," he said.

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's just 'cause—"

"I'll sign it," Connor interrupts.

"Oh, you don't have to, it's just—"

"Do you have a sharpie?"

Evan reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a thick tipped sharpie. His hand was shaking when he handed it over, Connor noticed. It was also wet, and warm, probably from his hands sweating, but Connor didn't mind.

He held Evan's arm and started writing in big, bold letters across the cast, filling the whole space up.

'CONNOR'

"Oh, wow, uhm, thanks," Evan said weakly.

For once, Connor smiled. A real smile. And Evan smiled, too. It felt good to be on the receiving end of that smile.

A/N: Woo! First oneshot done!

Tell me what you think in the comments, and any feedback you may have, or requests! I always need new ideas.

I'm really lazy, busy, and I procrastinate a lot, so the updating schedule will be very inconsistent.

Hope you enjoyed! Bye!