Chapter Text
Todd rested his back against the door of his dorm, his suitcase full of personals thudding against the floor. The return to Welton after each break managed to get infinitely more unbearable despite it always amounting to nothing notable every time. It was routine. Go for thanksgiving, winter, easter break and return to the same old stuffy halls and itchy uniforms that reminded him of everything he didn’t want to amount to in life.
He wasn’t sure why there was an ever mounting anxiety regarding the return. Maybe something to do with the unignorable sense of being trapped that came with it. Maybe it was the fear that he would break under the pressure of that feeling each time.
He drew in a deep breath and let out a ragged sigh, thankful this was the final return to Welton he would ever have to experience.
There was a rattling of the doorknob that startled Todd from his position.
“Anderson? Are you already in there?”
It was Knox, persistently pushing at the door that failed to open against the weight of Todd’s belongings.
“Y- yes.” Todd replied, reaching to move his suitcase.
Knox came sauntering in, a light grin on his face.
“Hey Anderson.”
“Hi, Knox.” Todd smiled a little more than politely, grateful to see a friend.
It had also become routine to return to a room with Knox. At the very least routine for the last year. Todd was glad it was Knox, of course he was. Glad it was a person he knew at the very least. A person he knew, that wasn’t Cameron. Glad it was Knox who would come in and tell tales of his latest attempts to woo Chris and not expect Todd to utter a single word.
“How was your break?”
Not expect him to utter a single word after conversational pleasantries.
“Yeah, it was alright.” Todd shrugged, unpacking his belongings.
“Just alright?” Knox whipped his head around, staring indignantly at Todd from the opposite bed, “this is the last time we have to return to Hellton, Todd! I was celebrating!”
Todd chuckled lightly. Maybe Knox was also running from the suffocating dread of Welton.
“And before you ask, yes, I was celebrating with Chris.” Knox boasted, smirking, “Chris who I will also be celebrating my Harvard acceptance with if I can keep her.”
Todd gave a polite grin. He doubted Knox would be losing her anytime soon with his persistence in devotion.
“I know, I know, I’d be a total idiot to lose her now. If Charlie were here he would be rolling at the thought.”
Todd breathed out a chuckle, silently returning to unpacking. He was sobered by the reminder of Charlie’s absence. It had been that way for a year and a half yet it still stung as if he’d only just heard the news from Meeks, sniffly voice muffled through the splintering wood of his dorm door. It was far from the first time either of them had brought up Charlie and his absence. Far from the first time Todd had felt that expected sting that came with the reminder. Yet, it felt stronger this time, as if the end of his time at Welton resurfaced reminders of everything he wanted to leave behind.
There was a soft knock from the doorway. Standing there was Meeks, living up to his name in the way he meekly knocked to gain their attention.
“Hey Knox, Todd.” He smiled, lopsided, “you guys up for study group tonight?”
This was also routine. The study group had become so ingrained into Todd’s tenure at Welton that he began to wonder why the group continued to ask if it was happening.
Regardless, both Todd and Knox nodded a yes.
“Nice. Me and Pitts will see you then.” Meeks moved to walk off when Knox called out.
“Eight o’clock?”
Another question that Todd already knew the answer to.
——————
By eight o’clock the study hall was filled with the ambient chatter of students telling tales from their break. Todd sat silently as he listened to Knox give a romantic retelling of the date he took Chris on. Well, one of the several he took her on. He wondered how he found time to not fail school in between being such a hopeless romantic.
As Knox’s story came to a close and the group lulled into silence, Meeks piped up.
“So… What are we going to do as a final goodbye to Hellton?”
Pitts groaned, “Not fail my classes.”
“I second that,” Knox said, giving Pitts a clap on the back.
“Surely you guys have something better than that.” Meeks frowned
Knox shook his head, “Sorry, Meeks, but us regular non-geniuses have to actually try in school. Maybe if you wanted genius company you should’ve stuck with Cameron.”
Meeks made a face, “And deal with the company of that stiff?”
Knox shrugged, “I didn’t say it was a perfect plan.”
“Seriously, though. I don’t want to leave with just a handshake and a diploma.” Meeks insisted.
“I thought you’d be all about that, Meeks. Ending this as smoothly and quietly as possible.” Knox raised his eyebrow.
“No- ” Meeks began to protest, “Well, I guess. I was just thinking about everything that happened.”
Neil, Todd’s brain supplied.
“After everything we learned…”
Keating.
“I don’t want that to be for nothing.” Meeks explained, “well, nothing good.”
Knox nodded, thoughtful, “sure, I see what you’re saying. What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing yet. That’s why I asked.” Meeks turned his head to Todd, “how about you Anderson?”
Todd startled at the unexpected attention. He’d fallen back into the awful habit of blending into the empty space of a group, or at the very least expecting to.
Todd shrugged, “um. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
This was a lie. He had the perfect idea, yet it was an idea that he’d built up in his head as a solo mission and he feared telling the others would result in a rejection so potent he would back out from doing it all together. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the slack skin at his knuckles.
“Are you sure?” Meeks pressed
“Yeah.” Todd said, softly
Meeks gave up at that, “alright, well, I don’t want to waste the last of our senior year so if any of you think of anything.”
“Maybe we could- ” Todd spoke so quietly he wasn’t even sure he said it.
He must’ve by the way Knox turned to look a him, raising his eyebrow, “could what, Todd?”
Todd debated backing out. Ending the conversation with a “nevermind” and letting Knox spin another overly-romantic recount of one of his dates. But he was weak-willed. He’d already started and he was no man, but instead an amoeba, under the curious gaze of the three boys staring at him.
“What if we had one final meeting? Something in Keating’s honour. And Neil’s.”
The others sat silent. Todd feared he’d made some awful mistake, like what he’d proposed had been an accursed spell that would immediately turn all his friends against him.
“Don’t you think they’ll catch us?” Pitts’ voice had lowered in volume considerably.
Todd shrugged while Knox butted in with an equally hushed answer.
“They never did before.”
“They didn’t know about it before. I am trying to graduate.” Pitts argued
“Nevermind guys, it was stupid- ” Todd began to backtrack.
“No! No it’s not stupid, Todd.” Knox jumped to his defence, “just because Pittsie’s grades are constantly hurting doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it. What do you think, Meeks?”
Meeks looked as if he was already mentally planning the meeting, “I guess I’ll try anything twice.”
Pitts caved at that, “fine, I’m in.”
“Tomorrow night?” Meeks asked
The rest of the group nodded in agreement.
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
——————
It was tradition for the first night back at Welton to contain the worst sleep Todd had ever gotten. He supposed this tradition wanted to go out on a crescendo as he lay awake, staring at the ceiling with eyes unclosing at 3am.
It wasn’t even necessarily Welton’s fault, although it remained a contributing factor. No, it was the anxiety of this plan. He’d wanted to do this just for Neil if he was honest, which is something he hadn’t been with anyone since Neil’s death. He’d wanted to give Neil some sort of memorial that wasn’t the stuffy, picture-perfect funeral service his parents wanted for their poor son. A plan that had never come to fruition for fear that any return to the cave and the meetings would feel hollow without Neil. He hadn’t been ready to confront that emptiness, and he wasn’t sure he would be now.
Yet, he was faced with one final chance and the perfect time to do it. Only problem was that it included other people.
Logically, Todd knew that the others would understand. He may not have known Neil for as long but with the way Todd had stuck by his side like some timid cat with attachment issues - the way he had screamed louder than anyone had ever thought possible when he learned Neil was gone - it was clear they had a connection. He still couldn’t help but fear that the others would look at him with scorn at the presumptuous decision that he was fit to give Neil this sendoff.
He also supposed it didn’t matter. He was almost out of Welton anyway, what was a few weeks of strained friendship, it was more than he ever had at Balincrest.
He rolled onto his side, staring holes into the wall, willing himself to toss his anxieties aside and get some damn sleep. A familiar sentiment drifted into his thoughts, a memory of something once treasured and true.
Carpe Diem.
Seize the final opportunity to say goodbye to the things he held dear. And by god he was going to.
——————
By all means the first day of classes was average. Although Welton ‘average’ was still far much more work than Todd had space for in his brain.
He found reprieve in the library just before supper. He combed through dusty copies of what was deemed ‘the finest literature the world had to offer’ by the school board, only to rot away on a shelf for decades, and eventually found what he was looking for.
It was slim, its thinning canvas hardcover faded, but the title was still legible; A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Todd held it lightly as if it could crumble under the pressure of his grip. It was hard to gaze upon it again, he was frankly surprised the school hadn’t disposed of it. Then again, why would they have reason to? They had no clue it was the copy Todd used to help Neil rehearse. No clue about the trips down to the dock where he would timidly recite the lines from the page to cue Neil into the next one.
He held it to his chest like it would bring back any of the warmth he felt sitting beside Neil in those moments. He sat there for a moment, almost trying to trick his brain into thinking he felt anything change. He felt nothing.
Still, he tucked the copy away into his pocket. A familiar weight that somehow felt far more hollow than he remembered.
He got up to leave when he saw Cameron standing next to him, catching a glimpse of him swiftly averting his gaze.
Todd didn’t want to turn this into a conversation, much less an altercation.
“Shakespeare, Anderson?”
Cameron had other plans.
Todd turned away, avoiding whatever Cameron had to say.
“You’re not even going to say hello?” Cameron insisted, almost sounding hurt.
Todd frankly wasn’t even sure why Cameron was trying. He knew where he stood with the rest of the group and that place was outside of it. He’d held that place for a year and a half and Todd felt that now was hardly the time to make amends.
Yet, he surrendered, “y- yeah. Shakespeare.”
“I didn’t think you’d still pick that up.” Cameron was acting far too friendly, as if the tension of the broken trust between them was simply something unimportant and not in need of acknowledging.
“Well… I am.” Todd spoke curtly.
Not wanting to keep suffering through whatever conversation Cameron was angling at he moved to walk past him.
“Todd.” Cameron stopped him. His tone sounded warning, almost concerned, “don’t do anything stupid.”
Todd carefully kept his face neutral, holding back a scowl. It was a rich statement to come from Cameron. Cameron who, oh-so-wisely, threw his morals and friendships to the wind to save his skin and stupidly ended up with nothing in the process.
He didn’t dignify Cameron with a response as he moved past him to the exit.
——————
The rest of the evening moved far slower than Todd would’ve liked it. The flow of time moseying through the syrup of his anxieties. It seemed the rest of the boys felt the same way with the way Pitts’ leg restlessly bounced, the way Meeks carefully placed his coat right near the door to his dorm and the tense silence whilst they all brushed their teeth.
All the tension seemed to vanish as soon as it was lights-out. In its place there was a certain giddy nervousness Todd felt as he and Knox snuck out of their dorm with Meeks and Pitts tiptoeing close behind. Despite all his worries the thrill of defiance remained as he carefully sidestepped the creaky floorboards of the hall. They rushed into the night, a spur of shadow shrouded in a faint mist.
The route to the cave was still ingrained in their muscle memory, irreversibly carved into some formative part of their mind. Brittle sticks cracked under the press of footsteps as they ran, boisterous, through the thick of the trees. Todd only spared a moment's pause as he double - candidly, by that point quadruple - checked the copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream was secure in his pocket.
By the time they reached the cave Knox and Pitts were whooping, sounding a joyous barbaric yawp into the night. Todd found himself laughing along with them as they all piled into the cave.
“Hey, look, it's the god of the cave!” Pitts exclaimed, pointing at the faded drummer boy statue.
Its paint was looking worse for wear and Todd was pretty sure one of its sticks had snapped off. Additionally the half-burned candle recessed in its head was chipped. Regardless, Todd was shocked it had survived this long. He felt bad no one had come to grab it.
“Oh, great god of the cave, how we have forsaken you with our neglect.” Meeks joked
“Hey! Don’t speak his name in vain!” Knox responded wryly, elbowing Meeks
“C’mon, Knoxious, you know Meeks would never joke about that. That was entirely sincere!” Pitts jeered, elbowing him for Meeks
Meeks chuckled as he seated himself on a rock, “Alright, alright, are we convening this meeting?”
“Yeah, lets convene,” Pitts nodded
“Anderson?” Meeks looked at him to proceed, clearly he was taking the mantle of the head of the meeting. Todd nodded.
“Alright… I hereby reconvene the Dead Poets Society.”
Pitts and Knox cheered at that. Todd sat smiling, a slight chill ran up his spine as if he could feel the ghost of Neil in Meeks’ words.
“Wait, wait!” Knox pulled the meeting to a halt as quickly as it started, “Here, Meeks.”
Rustling around in his coat he pulled out the battered copy of Five Centuries of Verse and passed it over to Meeks.
“Woah, how’d you get this, Knox?” Meeks asked, turning the book over like it was some impossible object
“I thought Keating took it.” Todd added, confused.
Knox shrugged, leaning back, “I found it when we moved into our rooms this year. Charlie must’ve nabbed it and hid it there.”
“And you just sat on it the whole time without telling us?” Todd felt a little betrayed at Knox denying him some scrap of the happiness he once had. It was a hypocritical feeling, he never let himself go back to that copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream before yesterday.
“I guess I didn’t know if you guys wanted to hear about it.” Knox shrugged, withdrawn in guilt.
Todd let his gaze fall to the cave floor. He’d regretted the lack of conversation any of them had had about Keating, or Neil, or the society in general after all was said and done. The only person that was graced with some form of mention was Charlie and it had taken a good three months before they’d started mentioning him outside of questions regarding his well-being.
“Well, thank you Knox.” Meeks said, accepting the book and flipping to the opening message.
None of them needed the book to remember it, each word of it carefully inked into their memory. As much as Todd renounced Welton’s affinity for time-honoured tradition (at least internally) he was particularly fond of the opening message as his own tradition.
They all spoke in unison; “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! To put to rout all that was not life and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
Todd found a certain catharsis in reciting it again, as if he was finally setting some long repeated mantra - caged in the back of his mind - out into the world. The room felt less empty as they recited it as if Todd could hear more than the four voices present saying it.
“So… Who’s reading first?” Meeks prompted
Knox jumped up, “I’ll start,” he carefully pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, “I know this meeting is for Neil and Keating but I’m just gonna ease us into it.”
“Yeah? Is ‘ease us into it’ code for you reading an original love poem?” Pitts teased
Knox just smiled, confident, “of course.”
He read off the unfolded page;
“To Chris,
Your golden hair and skin still blind me in the light,
How I falter every minute you’re not in my sight.
I knew to touch you would be heaven since the day we met,
But I’m still content in knowing you keep living yet.”
A chorus of schoolboy-ish oooohs echoed through the cave as Knox finished the final line.
“You think she’ll like it?” He asked, enthusiastic
“If you didn’t traumatise her from the last poetry reading, loverboy.” Meeks joked
“Ha, ha.” Knox rolled his eyes, sitting down.
“I’ll go next.” Pitts said, grabbing at the book from Meeks, “there’s one in here I want to read.”
“I’m surprised you remember what’s in there, Pittsie.” Meeks commented, passing the book to him.
Pitts fanned through it before parking on a page, “it’s a classic. From Uncle Walt.”
“Ah,” Meeks said among nods of recognition from the group.
Pitts read aloud;
“O Captain! my Captain!-”
With that one line Todd felt several emotions he’d long tried to smother well up to the
surface.
“-our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.”
There was a pause of silence. Memories of Keating hanging in the air. Todd remembered the sorrow in Keating’s eyes, but more importantly the ever defiant glint of hope as he stood on his desk. He’d done nothing with that hope he’d been given, merely returned to being an average student and the social equivalent of a ghost. Or, at least the closest he could get to it. He felt like a waste of Keating’s talents, still about as stirred up as a cesspool.
“O Captain, my Captain.” Knox said, solemn. The rest of the group echoed it back in respect for all Keating had taught, all Keating had changed.
Meeks gently gestured for the book, beginning to flip through pages.
“Where do you think he is now?” Pitts asked
Todd shrugged. He’d found himself pondering the same question on occasion, knowing he’d never find the answer to it and taking that as liberty to imagine a far better life for Keating than the one he had at Welton.
Knox offered an answer anyway, “Far away from Hellton, that’s for sure.”
Pitts hummed in agreement.
Meeks coughed politely as he stared down at the pages in front of him.
“Here. From Charles Wolfe.” He paused, looking up from the page, “for Neil.”
There were a couple of solemn nods from the group.
Meeks began reading;
“Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
We buried him darkly at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning;
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light
And the lantern dimly burning.”
He paused, drawing in a steadying breath.
“No useless coffin enclosed his breast,
Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him,
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest
With his martial cloak around him.
Few and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead,
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.”
Another pause, fighting off tears,
“We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,
That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow!
Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,
But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
But half of our heavy task was done
When the clock struck the hour for retiring;
And we heard the distant and random gun
That the foe was sullenly firing.
Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory;
We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,
But left him alone with his glory.”
Todd looked up to see Meeks solemnly closing the book, tears in his eyes. The poem felt right, as if it was the unspoken eulogy the poets held in their hearts during Neil’s service. Todd let out a small sob himself, tears springing to his eyes. The other boys rushed to comfort him, the warm pressure of their sturdy hands on his back.
“I… I’m fine. Thanks.” Todd said, choking on his words. A cool breeze drifted through the cave drying his eyes.
He sniffed before continuing, “A- actually, I wanted to read something.”
“You need the book?” Meeks asked, reaching it over to him.
Todd shook his head, grabbing A Midsummer Night’s Dream out of his pocket.
“Oh.” Meeks said in understanding.
Todd opened the back of the book, looking for Puck’s final monologue. He knew his tear-ridden, sob-riddled rendition would not be able to match Neil’s performance of the ending stanzas so Todd elected to read the first section.
“This one’s also for Neil.” Inhaling a shaky breath he tried to begin.
“N- now- the-” He drew in another breath, calming himself.
He began again, his voice small- microscopic compared to the enormity of Neil's performance so long ago. Yet it still carried the same weight, even if from an entirely different place.
“Now the hungry lion roars,
And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
All with weary task fordone.”
An unborn sob choked at his throat but he pressed on.
“Now the wasted brands do glow,
Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
Puts the wretch that lies in woe
In remembrance of a shroud.”
His focus was broken for a second by the quiet sniffles of the other boys. He allowed a moment to gather himself again.
“Now it is the time of night
That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream,
Now are frolic: not a mouse
Shall disturb this h- hallow'd house-”
Sobs constricted his throat, a few loose ones prying their way out of his mouth. He breathed a shivering breath that did nothing to help the crying.
“I am sent with broom before,
To sweep the dust behind the door.”
He closed the book devolving into sobs as his words were swallowed by the empty yawn of the cave. He’d thought it would feel more cathartic, like some grand send off to Neil and all that he meant in Todd’s life. Instead he was just left feeling hollow. Numb and raw in a way that he’d only been left once before.
They all sat for a moment, silently grieving.
Pitts was the first to speak, placing his hand on Todd’s back, “He would’ve loved to hear you read.”
This made Todd sob even harder, to an almost violent degree as a strangled “I know,” broke its way from his throat. The following “he did” was left unspoken, a fact that was better left shared a secret between him and Neil as Todd remembered the way Neil’s face would light up when he would help him rehearse.
Another cool breeze floated through the cave causing Todd to bundle up in his coat even more. He wondered if it was possible to disappear into it entirely.
After a few more moments of silence the other boys stood up, drying their eyes and gathering their things. Todd uncurled himself from the fetal position he’d scrunched himself into, following the other’s lead.
As they all solemnly departed the cave Todd stood alone, lingering at the entrance. That same cool breeze gently carded through his hair. Todd felt like he was forcing himself to imagine the faint whisper of words being carried along the breeze. He turned away from the cave, following the others back into the thick of the trees.
The sharp, fading echo of words called out from the cave;
“…Robin shall restore
amends.”