Carpe Diem |D.P.S. One shots

2. Work Late - D.P.S.

(Modern Day AU) Fridays are late nights for the Dead Poets Society, ever since Welton they've stayed up until Midnight and read poetry. Years after graduation, depressing news reaches the boys and they have one long awaited DPS meeting.

• • •

Todd watches the clock anxiously. He can't wait to leave for the night, he had been bugging his neighbor about taking care of his cat. Unfortunately the neighbors had been getting tired of watching the cat.

"She bites!" She complained. His neighbor was an old woman who waddled and whose name was believed to be Matilda. Todd groaned and looked down at the black cat, who had wrapped herself up around his leg.

"She only bites if you pet her face or tail."

"Well I'm tired of it. I'm also tired of you getting here at weird times."

"I can't control traffic!" Todd argued. Matilda huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'll give you one more chance," she warned and left his apartment. The cat meowed happily at her departure and walked towards Todd's desk, which was occupied by his typewriter and poems he was afraid of sharing with anyone.

So basically Todd was going to find a new cat sitter. Before the clock struck five, his phone rang. He checked the caller ID, Out Of Area, he didn't pick it up. When it rang again he answered. On the other end, he heard two people arguing.

"Hello?" Todd asked.

"Todd?"

"Yes?"

"Oh thank god, okay. I'm glad I got a hold of you."

"Who is this?"

"Knox, from Welton," he says. Todd hears another voice on the line. "And Nuwanda. Nuwanda is here, too." He could hear a faint, hello, come from the other end of the line. "Do you have a minute?" Todd looked at his watch, four fifty eight, it read.

"I got two."

"Can I Skype you?"

"For what?"

"So I can get the others here," Knox explained. Todd told him his email and within a few minutes he got a call on his computer. Knox Overstreet is calling. . . He clicked the green answer button and suddenly he was face to face with his high school friends. He could see Meeks sitting at his desk in a cubicle. Pitts was at what was probably his home, sitting in the kitchen. Nuwanda and Knox were sharing a computer screen.

"I feel like we're missing someone," Pitts says, biting into a sandwich.

"No, we've always been a few, lonely losers," Nuwanda says. "Apparently most guys didn't spend their Friday nights in high school reading poetry in a cave."

"Is there a reason why we're doing this?" Meeks asks. The boys go silent as they wait for someone to answer. Nuwanda clears his throat as he tells them Mr. Keating passed away.

"Who the hell told you that?" Pitts asked.

Nuwanda replies, "I read it in this mornings newspaper, with other obituaries."

"The hell were you doing reading a newspaper?"

"I wanted to check my stocks."

"What stocks?"

"We're getting off topic," Nuwanda states. Knox rolls his eyes and takes two mugs off his desk. He leaves, giving Nuwanda full access to the computer. Todd sees the redness in his eyes and notices he had been crying. Nuwanda doesn't bring it up and continues the conversation. "The Dead Poets Society is starting to fade."

"I think it already has," Meeks says as he packs a bag he has with him, sliding papers and a hat inside.

"Well, we're bringing it back. I am starting a new Dead Poets Society!"

"A new one?" Todd inquires.

"Yes, The Living Poets Society!" Nuwanda exclaimes. The others groan at the name and complain of it's simplicity. Nuwanda shrugs it off and goes onto The Poetry Foundation. "I dedicate this meeting to Mr. John Keating! May his soul Rest In Peace." A chorus of Amens was mumbled. As Knox walks back to the computer, Nuwanda huffs.

"What's wrong? Do the kids want to go home?" Knox asks him. He kneels next to him and hands him the cup.

"I can't find the poem."

"Which one?"

"Which one," Nuwanda mocks. "You know the one!" He goes to google and tries to find the poem. Todd runs his thumb across his wrist as that very poem spills from his mouth.

"I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deeply and suck the marrow out of life," he recites. The others listen intently as he speaks. He doesn't worry about getting the words right, he knows the poem by heart. It echoes in his head on late nights alone. He remembers it in Neil's voice, how he pulled out that thick, green book and read the poem like it was meant to be spoken. He finishes and the boys clap for him. That's when he'd completely forgotten about going home and finding a cat sitter.

They spend an hour reading poetry. They find poems and read them aloud. Todd forgets where he is when someone taps on his shoulder. The janitor is staring at him, "You got five minutes," he says. The boys look at their clocks and realize how late it is.

They say their goodbyes, except for Knox, who asks, "Again next Friday?" Everyone eagerly agrees. Todd logs off the computer and looks out a window. The sun is starting to set. He looks down at his wrist, he stares at the words, "o captain, my captain," and feels a flood of emotion falling over him. He doesn't look at the name written above it, a drunken mistake that he can't bring himself to fix (he hardly considers it a mistake, but his mother disagrees).

He holds his tears back as he takes the bus home. He goes home to find his cat curled up on the couch. He dashes to his desk with a new flurry of ideas, he doesn't notice the notification that says, "Charlie Dalton added you to The Dead Poets Society."