"Take a deep breath." (Barclay/Haley)

AU: "Dear Evan Hansen" (Content warning: references to depression, anxiety and suicide)

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Reginald Barclay sat on a hard plastic chair in the wings of his school's auditorium, rocking back and forth with his head in his hands. He was supposed to give a speech to the entire student body in less than five minutes, and he'd never felt so nervous in his life.

A hand touched his back. He jumped.

"It's okay," said Haley.

"N-n-no, it's not," he moaned. "I … c-c-can't go out there."

"Sure you can," she said, kindly but firmly. "Remember why we're doing this. Not just for him, for everyone."

Her hand touched the small plastic button on her purple sweater, printed with a musical note that looked like the letter J and the words The Joseph Project. Reg looked down at the matching one on his shirt pocket. This was the project's starting event, a fundraising concert whose proceeds would go to refurbish the school's music room, as well as setting up a counselling program for students who needed it. Reg could only imagine what vitriolic remark Joseph Zimmerman would make if he were still alive to see this. Then again, if Joe were alive, they wouldn't have started this in the first place.

"I know," said Reg. "That's the w-worst part … W-what if I let you and … and everyone else down?"

"You won't." She took her guitar case off her shoulders, leaned it against the wall, sat down next to him and rubbed his back. "When you get out of your own way, you're the most talented speaker I know. It doesn't matter if you stutter, okay? Just … take a deep breath and keep going."

He looked down at his left arm, which was in a cast from wrist to elbow. The name JOSEPH was scrawled in black marker like an epitaph.

A talented speaker. She had no idea how much that compliment stung. He hadn't lied, as such, but there was no denying he'd put his own spin on the truth, and the more time passed, the more it seemed to be spinning out of control. He had the horrible feeling that, if he gave the speech he had prepared today, he'd only be making it worse.

But what if he told them the whole story behind the signature on his cast? Reg would never live it down and, worse yet, it would be disrespectful to Joe's memory.

It was Haley's eyes that decided him. With her ash-blond hair, slim figure and heart-shaped face, she didn't look much like her late brother, but she shared Joe's hazel eyes and they saw right through him. Joe had been an angry, sarcastic, and deeply troubled person, but he'd never been known to lie.

What would be more disrespectful to Joe, Reg wondered: telling his story the way everyone wished it had gone, or the way it really had?

"Th-thank you." Reg stood up and squeezed Haley's hand between both of his, trying to express without words how much her support meant to him. "I'll ... try."

Out in the middle of the stage, student council president Katie Janeway was wrapping up her introductory speech. He'd been shocked at first when the brilliant, charismatic senior girl had admitted to him that she took antidepressants, and her ambition to raise mental health awareness was about herself as well as Joe, but today he respected her all the more for it. She gave him a dazzling smile and swept her hand out, gesturing for him to join her.

"Let's hear it for my co-founder, Reg Barclay!"

Reg found himself standing where she had just stood, clutching the microphone, before he knew how it happened. Being taller than Katie, he had to fumble to adjust the microphone stand. It seemed to take forever.

"Um … good morning," he mumbled.

There was a piercing squeal of feedback, making him recoil and the audience laugh. He couldn't make out a single face from up here, only a dark blur as he stood under the spotlight. His palms were sweaty. His head swam. He wondered if this was how it felt when you were about to pass out.

He shot a frantic, fleeting glance sideways to where Haley was sitting in the wings.

Take a deep breath.

It might have been the medication he had taken earlier finally kicking in, or it might have been her smile. Either way, his anxiety swung over into one perfect moment of clarity.

For once in his life, he knew exactly what to say.