Chapter Text
Honestly, Connor didn’t know why the letter affected him so much. It was only a paragraph or two long... But it was about Zoe. He knew, he knew he had to control himself, he had to not storm into her room and start shouting and demanding she tell him his relationship with the cute, short guy. But he wanted to, so badly. Shut up, shut up, shut up, he told his thoughts fiercely. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than he already had. Connor dug out his stash and found his lighter. It took a couple of tries, because his hands were almost shaking already, but he managed to light it up and took a drag, trying to calm down. He had to stay calm, had to erase the anger. He saw a half-empty bottle of painkillers he’d nicked and impulsively took some. The drugs were definitely not helping. Did he really want them to help, though? He shook his head, took another drag. Time passed, and he lost track of how much he’d gone through and how many pills he’d taken. It couldn’t have been many, since it wasn’t working. He took another two. The smoke around him seemed unnatural all of a sudden. He didn’t mind, really, not even when it obscured his vision and he stumbled and fell on the ground. He didn’t even notice when the blurry grayness became black emptiness.
He heard a loud, annoying beeping noise and almost opened his eyes, but decided not to. He didn’t want to get up, or go back to school. Underneath the tone, though, he heard something that sounded like his mother crying... Warily, he let his eyes open and looked around. What the fuck? This wasn’t his room. Looked like a hospital, honestly, like the time he’d cut too deep and hadn’t managed to go all the way before his mom found him in the bathroom and called 911. The beeping finally stopped. Or did it? He looked around, realizing it had simply faded into the background noise, because it.. was just going on. And on, and on, and on... His mother really was crying, and it looked like even his dad was upset. Why? Not like anything was wrong, he was right there, didn’t they see him? He glanced around the room and finally looked down, practically leaping out of the bed when he saw it. It looked like him, but it couldn’t have been, he was right there, what the fuck? A doctor came in. Called the time. His mother started sobbing, and even Dad looked upset as he put his arms around her. Zoe- where was Zoe- she was there. Leaning on the wall by the door. Her eyes were a little wide. She didn’t seem to be particularly sad, though, which was good. Too many people were crying already.
He must have dissociated or something, because the next time he felt like he existed, the room was empty of even the body that was on the bed. He sat up as if in a daze, and stumbled out of the bed. He meandered around the hospital, losing his way over and over until he found the exit. Apparently... he was dead. He hadn’t meant to be, he didn’t think. Maybe. Last night was mostly just a blur, gray smoke and white pills and black letters on paper about his sister-
His eyes flashed, remembering the letter. He had to protect Zoe. He ran out the exit, not bothering to open the door, and was only vaguely surprised when he didn’t crash into it. He kept running, so long and fast that he was practically flying over the ground. He wove between buildings and cars on streets until he came to his house, where his dad’s car was in the driveway. He slowed down and had come to a walking pace by the time he came to the door.
The next week is weirdly not weird, in a way. Of course, Mom was crying more, and Dad’s calls had more to do with funeral preparation, but a lot of their routine... hadn’t even changed. It was like he’d disappeared without anyone noticing, like that Hansen kid mused on in that fucking letter. Days passed, his parents went out together one afternoon, which he didn’t think much of until they came back with a new kid in tow. Hansen.
He fumed in the dining room, alternately pacing back and forth and leaning on the wall while glaring bitterly at the boy. Apparently his parents thought they were friends- he practically spat the word to himself. His mom asked to hear about their “friendship” and the kid’s eyes widened in shock, he kind of shrank in his seat anxiously, which made Connor want to stop him before he had a full-blown panic attack. But the next thing Connor knows, he’s launched into this story about “end of May or early June”, when apparently they’d driven out to get ice cream and then gone to the orchard and talked about the most fucking cliche things Connor’s ever heard. He couldn’t believe his parents couldn’t tell he was lying through his teeth. He would never have said something as sappy as “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be” to this awkward shrimp with his arm in a cast labeled with his name. But once he got into his lie, the hopeful look on his face was almost endearing... like he wished it was true. Connor didn’t want to admit it, but he kind of thought that “picture-perfect afternoon” did... sound nice. Evan became more reserved as he lied about the branch breaking under him. Connor looked at him strangely. He’d said he’d fallen, not that the branch broke. Of course, he could’ve meant both, but it seemed wrong somehow... But the strange happiness and nostalgia on his face when he lied about Connor finding him gets his mind off of “this kid lied to me” and onto “does this kid have no actual friends?”. Finally, Evan finishes his elaborate lie and says something about emails. A bit later, he mentions needing to go home, and Connor makes an impulsive decision to follow him. It’s not like anything at home is different from when he was- was alive, anyways. He might as well see firsthand how these lies played out.