After getting inspired by the many, many beautiful fanfictions for DEH on archiveofourown, I finally decided to write my own. Except since I love fantasy, I was just like 'Lets add magic!' And thus, this was born. I'm not really sure how long its going to be yet, but I'll update as often as possible. Enjoy!

Honestly, a part of Evan doesn't know why he came back. His cast is starting to become a lead weight, dragging him down. Maybe it's the atmosphere that draws him back, or maybe it's the memories this place holds. That's stupid though, because why would anyone like to come back to the place where they broke their arm?

It's quiet though, and its only him and the trees. No one is judging him, no one is staring at him, no one is laughing at him behind his back, no one is laughing in front of him. It's just him and the trees, and that's all he really wants. It's what he needs right now.

He walks up to one of the many fir trees, resting his hand on it for comfort. A warmth spreads through him as he truly relaxes, simply letting his barriers crumble in the tranquility of the empty forest. Something soft brushes against his cheek, and he opens his eyes to smile at the branch caressing his face.

He remembered when he first learned about magic, in a time when his parents were still together and he wasn't the broken mess he was now, he had watched his father move the soil around by simply twirling a finger and his mom summoned water from nowhere. He was so amazed, he couldn't stop asking about what his magic would look like.

"Well, there's no way to know until it manifests." His mom had explained to him. "It's different for everyone. A lot of times though, it'll be based on something you enjoy, or something you need."

Back then, he missed the sharp glances shared between his parents, the subtle warnings of what was to come.

Then the cursed U-Haul truck pulled into the driveway when he was 7, taking his father with it. His mom comforted him all that night, through his childish questions, fears, and naivety. But no matter how much she assured him, even his 7-year-old mind realized it was his fault for their separation. He couldn't control the way he felt all his peers were watching him whenever he was in class, or the stutter that had quickly formed as he focused on the thousands of ways that things could go wrong. He knew his father had only grown more distant when he started having issues.

His father had never even seen his manifestation.

Vines grow from his fingertips, wrapping around the fir, he feels the softness of the petals as flowers erupt from his scalp, curving themselves into his hair with ease. Normally, he would stop, normally he wouldn't let his magic get this far, not unless he wanted to deal with the snickers from his various classmates. Because, 'oh look, there goes the weird kid who has plants growing out of him.' His fears don't need encouragement as it was. But there is no one here now, save himself and the trees, and the trees can understand what his peers could not.

He didn't choose his magic, and the same goes for them. They knew that it was all up to chance. Why is it his fault if he got the short end of the stick? That his magic is stupid when compared to everyone else's?

Jared can interface with technology. Alana is notorious for picking up on thoughts and emotions. Zoe can make music out of nothing. Evan can grow plants and sort of communicate with them. The doctors said the plants are using his magic to move around on their own, responding to him in a sense, but Evan never cared for the technicalities of it all.

The point is, he doesn't understand why he's the designated outcast, especially when there was no reasoning behind it. Well, besides for his generally awkward nature. Okay, so maybe there is a reason for his outcast status, but that doesn't mean he had to enjoy it.

"C'mon acorn," Jared turned back to address him. "you gotta tell my mom I was nice to you so she'll keep paying my insurance. But try not to vomit flowers when you see her, she has allergies."

"S-sure." He replied, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He shouldn't have expected any different, considering he's been Jared's 'family friend-' god he hated those words- for a little over four years now, but disappointment and frustration still burned in his gut. He plucked the petunias blossoming in his hair and shoved them in his bag, wincing as something pricked his fingers. He looked down in surprise when he saw thorny vines curling around his hand, moving their way up his arm. Concentrating, he willed them to shrink, and they did, albeit reluctantly, until he could put them in his bag as well, sitting next to the petunias.

It wasn't like he wasn't used to it, because he was. But still, he didn't think the feelings that came with it would fade. Then again, who was he kidding? There was a reason he didn't make friends. He wasn't a fun guy to be around. He gets to nervous and stutters and then the other person looks at him weird and he just gets more nervous, which leads to more stuttering. And that's not even mentioning his hands, they always got sweaty no matter what he did, or they were moving around awkwardly, or pulling at the hem of his shirt, or playing with some sort of flora. And god, his magic. His magic had little to no self-control, often giving him flowers or vines that responded to his emotions- which was nice, until it started trying to reassure him with his favorite plants whenever he was have trouble talking, and then he had to deal with the flowers and the other person looking at him like he was a weirdo and then never talking to him again.

Absentmindedly, he tugs one of the flowers from his hair, he recognizes it as a honeysuckle. He asks the grass lining the forest floor to make some room, which it obligingly does. Tucking the honeysuckle into the new patch of dirt, he wills it to grow roots, to take a firm holding in the soil so that it can thrive. It does, even growing a few new blossoms as well. He thinks that honeysuckles represent happiness, which was nice.

He walks forward, travelling down the well-known paths. He can't get out of his head though, especially not after the day's events.

Jared had started it all, smirking as he strolled in front of Connor Murphy, Zoe's brother, if Evan remembered correctly. Honestly, Evan was kind of on Connor's side for this one, Jared was being an ass, egging Connor on like he was.

Then he had shifted slightly, his hands finding something new to focus on besides for the growing pool of students who had stopped to observe the exchange. Connor had turned on him in an instant.

"What are you laughing at?" Connor had a grip on the collar of Evan's shirt, his eyes bitter.

"I-I was-" Evan tried to explain himself, but Connor's eyes only got darker as he spoke.

"You think I'm the freak? Well you're the freak!" Connor shoved him, hard. Between the tile floor and sharp edge to Connor's voice, Evan wasn't really all that surprised at the aspen leaves that sprouted around him. But when he looked back up to Connor, Connor's gaze had widened, looking almost...regretful?

Either way, Connor took a step back, his form wavered for a second, and then he simply vanished. Then Evan really noticed the eyes that were on him. Because yet again he made himself look like an idiot covered in leaves that were all over the floor. He would have to pick those up, and he wasn't sure if he could fit them all into his bag. What if they ended up spilling out in class? Then he'd have to deal with everyone staring at him and his weird leaves. Maybe he should just-

"Evan?" A hand was reaching out to help him up, but he only needed the voice to recognize just who was talking to him.

"Uh, yeah, j-just give me a- a second-" Evan gathered some of the leaves surrounding him before taking Zoe's outstretched hand. "-sorry about that."

"Why are you apologizing? My psycho brother is the one that pushed you down." Zoe snorted, a concerned smile on her face.

"T-that's okay, well, to you it's not, but I'm kind of used to it by now. Not from Connor! Just, in general." Evan shut himself up before he could ramble any further, his hands going back to playing with his shirt.

"I'll help you pick up the leaves." Evan saw the flash of worry that crossed her face, but she didn't comment on what he had said, thankfully.

"Oh, no, no, no, y-you don't have to worry about it. T-they're really annoying and they slip out from your fingers and there's a lot of them- don't worry about it." Evan shoved the first handful of leaves into his bag, reaching down grab some more.

"It's cool. It's the least I can do to make up for Connor." Evan nearly froze, because he couldn't remember the last time someone had offered to help him simply to be nice. Although that wasn't completely true, she was just doing it to make up for Connor, she probably didn't want to do it at all- god she was going to hate him for this. Still, he made sure to pick up as many of the leaves as he could, making sure he didn't touch her hands, because he knew they were sweating by this point and he really didn't need Zoe knowing he had sweaty hands.

Needless to say, this morning had been a mess, and he was infinitely more grateful that this park was nearby. Ignoring the less than pleasant memories, the park is still his favorite place.

The grass tugs at his shoes, stopping him from running into the tree that is now only a few inches away from his nose. He looks up, his stomach pooling with dread as he recognizes the familiar texture of the apple tree. The only apple tree in the entire park.

The bark stung his hands slightly, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He couldn't find it in him to care about a lot of things recently.

One foot after the other. One hand above the other. The ground slipped away as he looked upwards, focusing on just getting as high as he could. He appreciated how the branches shifted so he could reach them easier.

Once he thought he was high enough, he stopped, sitting down on a branch. He could feel the sun touching his skin, and for a second, the view was enough to rekindle his will to live. It didn't last long though, not with the realization that even now, he was still alone. He hardly saw his mom anymore. Jared only contacted him when he wanted Evan to come over, which was about once a month. He still hadn't been able to make any real friends, hell, he couldn't even order takeout because he couldn't talk to the delivery person.

He could disappear and it wouldn't make a difference.

His mom could finally move on with her life without having to deal with all his problems. Jared could finally not have to worry about using him for insurance. The rest of the school wouldn't have to see the quiet, fidgety, awkward kid who never did anything.

The plants would care though; already, a branch from the apple tree was wrapping around his arm, as if it was trying to keep him there. But in the end, it wouldn't affect them if he lived or died. They were plants, they could move on easier than people did.

He coaxed the branch to release his arm before standing up. He only kept one hand on the tree to steady him, taking in the sky one last time. From here, it almost appeared to go on forever, expanding farther and farther past the horizon. For once his mind was calm, no anxious thoughts, no worries, no fears. He wished this was how it could always be, but he knew better.

He let go, the world tilting as he was pitched towards the ground.

He wondered if anyone would hear him as he hit the ground.

Even as he was falling, he laughed to himself. Who was he kidding?

Evan realizes he's shaking as he turns around to step away, and then another. His breath is coming out in frantic huffs, and he can feel tears sliding down his cheeks.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." The sharp voice snaps Evan out of his memories, and he scrubs his eyes quickly before turning to see who it was. For a second, Evan thinks he's hallucinating.

Connor Murphy was standing a few feet away, under the shadow of the apple tree, staring down Evan once again.

"Hansen?" Connor looks nearly as disbelieving as Evan feels, which is surprising enough.

"Hi- I mean, hey- t-that sounded even more stupid, sorry. I'm not used to- you know what, I'll just be quiet now." And just like that, Evan's sure Connor is going to turn right back around and leave him on his own.

Evan swears that he heard a small mutter that sounded suspiciously close to "fuck it" from Connor, before Connor steps out of the shade. For a second, Evan catches something metal that glints in the afternoon sunlight in Connor's pocket, but it's gone with a sweep of Connor's hand. Evan chooses to ignore it in favor the rising wave of panic as Connor walks closer.

"Look Hansen. I'm sorry about the whole shoving thing. Okay?" Connor offers out a hesitant hand, looking resolutely down at the grass below them.

Evan makes sure to wipe his hand against his shirt before tentatively placing his hand in Connor's. He really didn't need Connor to feel his sweaty hands, because then he would tell Zoe, and by that point Zoe would probably tell Alana or something and the entire school would know that he gets sweaty hands. "It's, um, i-it's fine."

"Cool. So, how'd you break your arm?" Connor asks, drawing his hand back to shove it in his pocket.

"It's k-kind of funny. I-I fell out of a tree. T-that one actually." Evan points to the tree behind Connor, and nearly has a heart attack as Connor gives out a snort followed by a wheezy laugh.

"Isn't that the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard." Evan can't remember a time when Connor was laughing, or smiling for that matter. Was Connor just making fun of him in some roundabout way? Evan thinks that might make slightly more sense than what he's seeing now.

Connor looks at Evan's cast, his mouth curving into a small frown. "No one's signed your cast."

"Oh-"

"Want me to sign it?" Connor offered before Evan could begin to stutter out some pathetic attempt at a response.

"Wh-what? Oh no, you don't have to. It's really not that big of a deal. R-really." Evan's hands were definitely sweaty now, and he can feel the flowers rooting themselves in his hair. He's half expecting Connor to laugh and call out the fact that Evan's really just a giant loser who needs to get a grip.

But he doesn't. Connor just raised an eyebrow and asked, "You got a sharpie or not?"

Evan fishes around his pocket for the sharpie his mother gave him on reflex, his mind still to preoccupied with the fact that Connor hasn't come up with some excuse to leave yet.

"H-here." He shoves the marker out in front of him, making sure that their hands don't touch as Connor takes it from him. Connor holds out his other hand, and Evan realizes that he actually has to give Connor his cast to sign.

He practically flings his cast into Connor's hand, biting back the pain as Connor accidentally twisted his arm a little too far.

"Sorry." Connor mutters, his gaze flicking to Evan's face for a moment before focusing on the task of writing his name on the cast. He writes it in big, sloping letters, covering most of the cast. "Why didn't you just get it healed magically?"

"Ah- magic healing was a little too ex-expensive and my mom already works hard enough so I didn't bother with it." What Evan doesn't say is that he had also wanted the cast so he could remind himself of his biggest shame, his darkest secret. So that he could look down and remember just what a failure he was. The idiot who couldn't even do suicide right.

Connor steps back to admire his work once he's done, mindlessly handing Evan his sharpie back.

"There, now we can both pretend we have friends." The barely disguised pain and longing in Connor's voice catches Evan off guard. And when Connor looks back up, Evan's entire view of Connor is thrown for a loop.

There's an emptiness in his eyes, a lack of caring, a lifelessness. Evan knew the look well, it's like he's staring into his reflection in the days before he broke his arm. It makes him want to just drop everything and wrap Connor in a hug, to tell Connor that there's someone who cares about him, that it's not worth it.

"See ya, Hansen." Connor turns though, the moment fading as he walks back towards the shade of the apple tree.

Time seems to have slowed down, every step Connor takes away from him only building the pile of guilt and regret haunting the edges of his mind.

"Don't kill yourself!" Evan finds himself shouting before he could process what he was saying.

Connor freezes, turning on his heel to stare Evan down, his eyes a storm of anger tinged with surprise. He hisses, hands clenched, "What the hell did you say Hansen?"

Evan is left fumbling for words, the initial push of whatever it was that prompted him to shout before long gone. "S-sorry, but you just looked like you wanted t-to- it was a stupid thing to say, sorry. Just, if you're th-thinking about d-doing it, it's not worth it. I-I-I…"

"No, no. Go on." Connor is livid now, his voice a dangerous mix between a shout and a snarl. "Tell me exactly why I shouldn't fucking off myself, because apparently you know much more than I do." Connor raises an eyebrow as Evan stays silent, wondering if there's any way to fix what he's started. "What? Can't think of anything to say? Then just leave me the fuck alone."

"Wait, Connor-"

"Shut the fuck up Hansen. I'm sick of hearing the same shit. 'Why would you do something like that? Don't you want to live? It's not worth it in the end.' Bull-fucking-shit. Have you ever considered that the world would be better off without someone like me? So, drop the charity case act Hansen. Just move on with your normal little life and forget about me. Save your consciousness the fucking effort."

Evan can hardly keep track of his own head by this point, let alone take in the fact that Connor's face is now inches away from his own, the boy closing in with every word of his tirade. Emotions and memories run wild inside him, begging to be unleashed. He can see the peonies that are overflowing from his hair and falling onto the ground. Leafy vines are curling around both his arms, and he can see the surrounding trees reaching out their branches to offer support.

"It's not like that!" Evan shouts, the raw emotion in his gut overriding his anxiety. "What do you know about me? I didn't even fall! But you believed it no questions asked just like everyone else!"

Connor is the one reeling now, his eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"I- the tree, I didn't even fall. I-I let go." Evan gave a bitter laugh at that. "All th-that I ended up with was a broken arm. P-pretty pathetic, huh?"

"I- well shit, I'm sorry." Connor runs a hand through his hair. "God I'm an asshole."

"I'm sorry too." Evan is taken aback by the confusion on Connor's face at his apology. "I mean- I r-really shouldn't have yelled, and I felt kind of bad about it, s-so yeah, sorry."

Connor sighs, and Evan's heart sinks, expecting Connor to turn right around their and leave before Evan can work up the courage to try and stop him again. But instead, a small smile emerges on Connor's face. "Oh my god Hansen, do you really think I give a fuck about you shouting? If you haven't noticed yet, half of what I say comes out in some form of screaming."

"Oh, s-sorry then." Evan scratches the back of his head, and is reminded of both the vines resting on his arms and the flowers sitting in his hair. "D-do you maybe want to sit and j-just talk? You don't have to- I don't think I could make you anyways, but I not like I'm going to try or anything like that."

"Sure." Connor says quietly. "Not like I have much else to do."

I literally spent almost an hour looking up flower meanings for this fic XD

Petunias often stand for anger and resentment. Aspen trees are often associated with fear. Peonies can represent shame, and also compassion.