Connor woke up. Now, usually that's normal for just about everyone, but. Its not normal after you just tried to kill yourself.
He squinted his eyes, and felt like gagging. everything was pure white, it was blinding. God, this sucked. something was stabbing him, and he hurt all over. It took connor to put two and two together. Everything was white.. he had just tried to kill himself.. everything hurt. So, either he killed himself, and he went to heaven or..
yeah. he was in the fucking hospital.
He let out a soft groan as he tried to bring up a hand to wipe his face , which felt like it had more stubble than usual, before realizing it hurt like hell to move his arm. "What the hell!" he shouted as he sat up. Or at least- tried too. "wh..at?" he murmered, his voice scratchy as he barely sat up.
he laid back down and felt sleep calling him.. maybe he was in heaven.. and maybe that thing in his arm is just a pinched nerve..
"u-uhm, connor? I-I mean, hi, connor..".
Well he'll be damned. the voice of god is Evan Fucking Hansen.
His eyes shot right open as he looked at the small boy. his hair was a mess and he looked like he had been crying, or at the very least, close too. "Hansen? the fu-" He bursted out into a fit of coughing, his throat hurting. "o-oh, right, yes, here." evan stammered, and handed a glass of ice water to connor. he took it with his non hurt arm. He chugged it all in one sitting, the ice cubes, made just small enough so where they wouldn't slip last his lips, but also wouldn't choke him if he swallowed one. Connor almost said thank you, but didn't, and just handed him back the glass.
He leaned back and rested his head against the pillow, his eyes falling shut. everything was quiet and all he could here was evans shallow breaths until-
"a-are you going to sleep?"
Connor didnt really know the answer to that question himself either, so he just shrugged. "no clue, but feel free to leave at any time."
he didnt. and connor fell asleep.