song of the chapter: take me to church ~ hozier
brb this song makes me cry so hard.
TW~~ huge canon divergence, mentions of suicide, just sad boi hours.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The attendance of the play was incredible, (y/n) thought as they entered the auditorium, which was wallpapered in gorgeous blues that complimented the scarlet-red curtains on stage. Actually, the curtains nearly matched (y/n)'s blouse, she thought offhandedly while trying to avoid the stares of some older men, who it appeared were judging her for wearing pants - not a skirt.
"Oh, to hell with them." she muttered to Meeks, who told her not to worry. The Dead Poets Society had gotten seats together, luckily the entire row had been free. Forever a nervous fidgetter, Keating was tapping his fingers on every surface he could find - his legs, the chairs, the book he'd brought with him - making (y/n) nervous in the process.
"Relax," she mouthed at the older man, leaning over Meeks and yet still too far to actually speak to him. The second Neil appeared on the stage, clad in a black ensemble complete with a very faerie-like crown of leaves and assorted twigs(that they had collected on one of their early-morning walks), majority of the boys jumped up in excitement.
"There he is!" Charlie whisper-shouted, outrageously overjoyed for his best friend. How crazy, (y/n) thought, that there was this version of her Charlie, and then the boy who had been degraded by an old man. In that moment, she was eternally grateful to have them all by her side - even as Keating was chittering at them to shush and sit down.
But they could hardly help it, could they? The cheerful atmosphere reverberated into the room from each of them, and (y/n) wiggled in her seat at the feeling. Meeks, gently, put his hand on her trouser-clad thigh, beaming broadly.
"Calm down, or you'll miss it all, my little honey." he whispered in Latin, earning a curled smirk from the girl.
"Stop being so beautifully distracting," the Latin rolled off her tongue like dew from a flower petal "and I will." The boy shook his head and laughed quietly, but then the pair drifted off into silence.
The play resumed, and Neil was by far the star of the show. Some of his mannerisms, like the odd noises he made out of sheer excitement some days, were often called odd in the social scenarios such as classes at Welton. Here, however, they earned the fierce admiration of everyone in the audience, who longed to see just a few more moments of his character in action.
The live pit band was exquisite as well, truly setting the tone for the entire show. It was beautiful, the girl thought in awe, grasping Meeks' hand and pressing a kiss to his freckled knuckles, how incredibly talented some musicians were. Thank God for music, for it would always be her savior.
Neil Perry pranced around the stage, talking in fervor to another young actress who played his counterpart, looking more alive than (y/n) had ever seen. Sure, at Welton he was amicable, but here? Here, he was a beautiful force to be reckoned with - not quite as gentle as a sunrise, but more like a natural disaster, bringing change and upheaval in the most delicious of ways.
"A merrier hour was never wasted there!" he exclaimed, earning a squeal from the other actress. "But room, fairy," his voice quieted every so slightly " Oberon is here." Neil and his fairy counterpart faded into the background, leaving room for Lysander and Hermia to take center stage. (y/n), who mostly came just to see Neil, got bored the second he stepped off the stage.
"Oi, boys," she whispered harshly "fork over some money, and I'll go get Neil a lovely bouquet!" Groans echoed through the group, leaving (y/n) to shake her head.
"I've only got, like, 2 bucks." Pitts said, handing a wad of change over to the girl's open palm. Charlie gave twenty-five cents the first time, but a glare from (y/n) forced him to hand over another dollar.
"What? I spent it all on cigs - don't blame me!" She smiled and rolled her eyes, before being given a few more from Cameron, Keating, Meeks, and even Todd.
"Get him something radiant," the infatuated blonde boy whispered in her ear "just like him." When (y/n) exited the row of their seats, she turned back to see Todd blushing profusely, adorable as ever. Her heart swelled with love as she made her way up the stairs and into the foyer, where a small florist had set up a pop-up shop, hoping to sell some flowers to passerby.
"Hello!" (y/n) greeted cheerfully, her personality dragging a smile from the elder woman who was working.
"Good evening, dearie," she replied calmly, gesturing to a bast array of dazzling beauties - gifts of the Earth.
None, however, could even come close to the pride (y/n) felt for her friend, and thus - she had a hard time choosing. Her brows furrowed together, confused.
"Miss, have you any suggestions?" she asked gently, reaching to stroke a petal of a rose. "Something unique, like my friend. He's playing Puck, you know." The old woman smiled, wrinkles overtaking her rather lovely face.
"Just the thing!" she snapped once, leading the girl over to the other side of the cart. "These are some of my less popular flowers, since you young folks tend to go for the pretty ones. But these, my girl, these will show your friend how much he means."
(y/n) examined the flowers, ending up choosing to make up her own bouquet. Her mother was the gardener, the one who knew everything about the meaning of flowers - an art called Ikebana.
So, she gathered a few stalks of gardenia, purpe irises, and some darling little ferns. She watched, biting her lip to hold back a grin, the older woman tie the bouquet together with twine. The action seemed to cause her pain, and (y/n) imagined the old woman had arthritis from decades of delicate handwork.
"Thank you," the young girl repeated again and again, giving the florist every dime she had gathered from the boys, earning a smile from the elderly face in front of her.
"No," the old woman said kindly, "thank you. I hope these flowers bring your friend joy - and please, do feel free to stop by anytime. I own a larger shop on Main street." The girl made promises to return and bring a tea party to the woman, whose name she didn't even know.
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Her purchase made, the girl turned around to enter the auditorium once again, hoping Neil didn't step back onto the stage and she missed it. An older man stood by the door, almost as if he were debating entering to watch or not. Coming up closer, (y/n)'s face flashed with embarrassment and recognition.
The man, was none other than Mr. Perry, Neil's father.
The very man, who - the day before - the girl cursed so furiously the idea of speaking to him again made her want to vomit, despite the perfume-y aroma from her flowers. She cleared her throat, putting on her mask.
Her "mask", being the familiar tilt of her chin, so that - even standing multiple inches shorter than he - she gave off the impression of looking down at him.
"Ah, those are for my boy - I suppose." He spun around to face her as he spoke, seemingly aware it was the girl who approached from behind.
She nodded, observing his body language. "What business do you have here?" she questioned, her voice a deadpan.
"I should not have to make excuses to see my son," his words were choked, as if some internal conflict plagued him. "is he really quite good?" (y/n)'s face softened, mostly in surprise as she never expected this kind of humanity from the man.
"Yes, sir," she confirmed gently, "he is a wonderful actor. Everyone adores him," she paused, waiting to nail the final nail in the coffin to change Mr. Perry's mind. "you should be very proud of such a talented son."
With a gulp, Mr. Perry nodded - before sighing dejectedly as if he was debating whether or not to say something else. (y/n) arched a dark eyebrow, unconvinced.
"I am," he stopped to take a breath. "I am s-sorry." The words seemed to leave a sour taste in his mouth, and (y/n) couldn't imagine how his wife must feel some days. The poor soul.
And yet, her jaw fell open in surprise. She wasn't sure if she were being manipulated or not, but a tiny part of her felt almost bad, almost bad for being so rude that one night. She took a deep breath, since it was obvious his father was waiting for her response.
"That's," she coughed awkwardly "that's very kind sir. But please, excuse me. I am quite enjoying my evening." He nodded, even going so far to open the door for her to enter the theatre once again.
She quickly ran to her seat, trying to keep quiet so as to not disturb the other viewers.
"Excuse me, thank you," she whispered to a boy she didn't know, so that she can sit in her spot beside Steven Meeks.
"Mhmm," he hummed, taking a deep breath of the flowery aroma. (y/n) booped his nose away.
"Not for you! For Neil!" she nudged him with her knee, and he huffed a quiet laugh. Within a few minutes, which (y/n) spent clutching the bouquet, Neil was back on stage.
This time, however, was different. His face was pale, staring up at the back of the theatre - where stood Mr. Perry. To (y/n)'s delight, Neil continued on with his outstanding performance, not letting some unfulfilled old man dictate his youth.
The crowd went quiet, holding their breaths as if they were watching daybreak fall over crisp, fresh-fallen snow. The anticipation rumbled through the air, as Neil, or should I say Puck, gathered dew from a flower in a rather large leaf.
The rest of the company gathered around a body, seeming in celebration of life, before the entire stage went black - leaving only her brunette friend standing - arms crossed, with raw emotion on his sharp features.
"If we shadows, have offended," he recited, invoking a stinging sensation in (y/n)'s throat "Think but this and all is mended.
That you have slumbered here, while these vision did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream."
(y/n) noticed he was holding eye contact with his father, as if trying to explain through his character's voice the importance that acting held deep within his heart. And although she did not dare look back at Mr. Perry's cold blue gaze, she prayed to whatever deity that tonight would not end in tragedy.
Oh, how wrong she was.
"Gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, will mend," he continued bravely "And, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck; Now to scape the serpent's tongue, we will make amends 'ere long. Else the Puck, a liar call." His voice was so, so incredibly strong - something churned deep in (y/n)'s heart, calling out like an echo. "So, goodnight unto you all; Give me your hands, if we be friends. And Robin shall restore amends."
With that, Neil covered his face in his twiggy hands, stepping into the shadows as the curtains closed.
Riotously and without hesitation, the crowd erupted like a volcano in applause, to the point where (y/n)'s hands begun to ache, the lovely bouquet now having a home made in her lap. She shared so many smiles that night, her face hurt in the most delicious way, for seeing her grins returned by those she came to love so dearly - no matter how odd the Welton gentlemen were.
After only a minute of being closed, the curtains opened to reveal the entire class, relishing in the sweet taste of euphoria that only came with being so young and in love with life. The Dead Poets Society all stood for a round of standing ovation, which the rest of the crowd took part in as the wonderfully talented acting troupe took turns bowing to the crowd.
"Brava! Brava!" (y/n) called out, not caring who at all heard. Because in that moment, life felt perfect - like the final piece in a puzzle. Satisfying and glorifying. Neil's comrades of the acting world pushed him forward, receiving another huge round of applause and yells.
The curtains closed a final time, and then the show was over.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The Dead Poets Society chatted on amicably, cheeks rosy with pride and unfiltered joy. (y/n) finally turned and stole a glance at Mr. Perry, who was speaking to a woman - presumably requesting a private audience with his son.
Whether or not he was angry or happy, (y/n) was unsure. His cold demeanor did not suggest anything - like a stone gargoyle on a gothic façade. Terrifying, indeed.
Neil's friends, including their beloved Mr. Keating, waited outside of the theatre doors to properly congratulate their friend. However, his father was demanding they move so that he might take him back home.
Fear nestled under (y/n)'s skin, and suddenly she imagined her lovely bouquet on the top of his casket, not in his warm - alive, youthful - hands.
"Neil! Neil!" Todd called out to his lover, reaching across the crowds.
"We love you!" (y/n ) called out, blowing him mountains of air kisses and smiles.
"I can't guys," he cried helplessly, the definition of melancholy.
Neil's father continued barking orders and strode to his waiting automobile, dragging poor Neil along with him.
"Neil!" Keating spoke up, despite his father being so adamant on leaving the premises hastily. "Neil, you my boy, have the gift." From (y/n)'s perspective, the compliment did not seem to even reach Neil's ears. "What a performance! You left even me speechless."
"Get in the car." Mr. Perry ground out, shoving Neil roughly towards the machine. (y/n) quickly, dashed to her friend's side while his ruthless father was otherwise preoccupied with Mr. Keating. "Keating, you stay away from my son."
"Neil!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek "you were incredible!" He smiled weakly, accepting the flowers she held out to him.
"Mr. Perry! Come on!" Charlie tried futilely to stop the inevitable. However, the universe demands for certain things to happen.
It demands mass tragedy, to bring a world together.
It demands two young men, fated to be roomates - fated to fall in a love so deep they thought they were drowning.
It demands that, in the midst of chaos and sexism, a young lady and a young man find one another to hold on to - to keep from slipping away.
And thus, it demanded that automobile containing one of the most precious human beings to speed away, and a bouquet of flowers to be tossed out of the window, being tramped under teh weight of feet and damp snow.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The group of Welton socialites decided to walk back to their academic institution, not really thinking much of what might happen to Neil on the first night that he truly felt alive.
(y/n) knew she wouldn't sleep; she'd seen the horror in Neil's face to clearly to even dare think of what he might do to himself. And, in turn, to them.
Keating, however, stayed behind. Staring off in the direction of the car that carried away a talented young man and a ruthless father to whatever plans the universe had in motion.
When they finally reached "home", (y/n) nearly collapsed into Meeks' waiting arms the minute they stepped into the wooden foyer.
"I can't." she whispered, tears welling in her beautiful eyes.
"You can't what?" Meeks asked against her hair, where he'd laid his head.
"What's wrong with her?" Charlie asked hurriedly, genuine concern lacing his features.
"What's wrong with me?!" She cried, body racking with sobs now. "What's wrong with Neil? Guys, something terrible is going to happen. We have to help him."
"Slow down, slow down," Cameron tried coaxing her. "What is going to happen?" (y/n) shook her head and ran her shaking hands through her hair.
"Hey," Meeks whispered, taking her trembling limbs in his steady ones. "Breathe. Then talk to us. It's going to be okay."
"No," she replied, tears leaking across her face. Her voice grew quiet with her next words. "What if he - what if, what if he kills himself?"
Pitts snorted in disbelief, but stopped when he noticed all eyes were on him. "Neil wouldn't really do that, would he?" Meeks pulled (y/n) close again.
"What should we do?" He asked her, looking at her in the way that only a god might look at his goddess.
"We have to break him out."
"Hang on!" Cameron shouted "There's no way. Mr. Perry'll kill us." (y/n) laughed deliriously, outraged.
"Don't you get it, you automaton?" she got up in Cameron's face "If we do nothing, Mr.Perry will kill him. Maybe he won't pull the trigger, but he'd have put the gun in Neil's hand." Charlie bit his lip in thought.
"I know his address. What are we waiting for?" He spoke up, checking his pockets nervously. Todd nodded, eager to see his beloved alive and well.
"Let's go get him." Todd agreed, already headed for the door.
"Alright, here's what we do." (y/n) led the way out the door, striding through the crisp Winter air towards their destination.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Neil's home was exactly as (y/n) imagined. Colonial, stinking of privilege. It was not, however, the kind of privilege that came without hard work. Something in her almost doubted Mr. Perry's limits, since he obviously cared very deeply for his only son.
In his own twist way, she supposed.
Taking a shaky breath, she stepped onto the front porch. From inside, she heard angry voices.
"Father," Neil was begging, near tears. "I love him, and I love acting!" Something crashed, like a fist hitting a hard piece of cedar - a desk, (y/n) guessed.
"We want what's best for you!" Came his father's reply, but Neil's mother was quite silent. The poor woman. Without hesitation, (y/n) rang the doorbell. All conversation halted, the only sound being heavy footfalls that she'd assumed were Mr. Perry's.
Meeks stepped up to grab his lover's hand, telling her without words that he would stand by her side - no matter the storm.
Finally, the door opened to reveal a rather disheveled Mr. Perry.
"Can I help you?" he snarled loudly at the group of degenerate children on his step.
"No," Charlie stated matter-of-factly.
"We're not here for you." Knox spoke up, not daring to look at (y/n), lest he knowing glare pierce his very soul. With that, (y/n) stepped around him and down the hallway, to meet with Neil and his mother.
"What?" The old woman gasped, looking as if she might faint.
"Oh, hello!" (y/n) called cheerfully. She bent down to kiss her hand in greeting. "I don't believe we've met, I'm (y/n)! These are my boys." She gestured to her little academic posse, who waved in return.
"Hey, Mrs. Perry," Pitts called out sheepishly, to which she smiled weakly. It didn't take long to notice that she was just as trapped in the twisted vise of Mr. Perry's love as their beloved friend was.
"What are you doing here?" Neil stood abruptly, grasping Todd's cheeks gently.
"Here to rescue our damsel in distress," the blonde boy breathed, before kissing him hard and fast. This time, Neil's mother did faint. Neil's father, dumbfounded, stared on at his sodalite of a son - who he found himself still caring for. Despite all his faults, but especially for them.
(y/n) fetched smelling salts out of her overcoat, smiling down at Mrs. Perry when she woke up. "Welcome back! We're taking Neil home." She looked on, very confused.
"This is his home!" She cried, near hysterics.
"We both know that's not true." (y/n) tsked gently. The chaos pursued until Mr. Perry finally took his tail out from between his legs and spoke up.
"Wait." he pleaded. "Please, Neil." At his father's tone, Neil let go of Todd's arms and stepped forward to face who they'd all assumed to be the villain of the story.
"What? Wait so you can keep killing me?" Neil was crying now too, which only spurred Mr. Perry on.
"I love you." His father's voice wavered "And I am sorry. To all of you. I'm an awful father, but don't resent me." Neil's gaze softened - but only slightly.
"Why should I believe that? All you want for me is-"
"You're wrong!" Mr. Perry gasped "I want for you what I never had. I want to give you the world, if you'll let me." Neil looked back at his closest friends in the world, admiring them each individually for a moment.
Meeks, with his goofy charm and (y/n) who was willing to go to hell and back for each and every one of them - clutching his arm with love.
Knox, the poor and awkward fella that somehow wound up in their society, but who he adored nonetheless.
Pitts, the quiet friendly giant who gave love as freely as anyone possibly could, and whose dance moves kept Neil from falling into a deeper depression.
Cameron, who sought out to compete with other's because it was the only way his parents showed him love, and finally - Todd.
Neil's beloved Todd, who taught him to stop giving a fuck about society and rules and what's "Proper". Todd, who let him be loved without limitations and with all his imperfections.
These people were his family, and he'd do anything for them.
"No." he said slowly, stepping back to hold Todd's shaking hand. "I'm done. I'm going to back an actor, and there is legally nothing you can do to stop me, right Cameron?"
"Yes, sir," he nodded eagerly - always willing to stop drama in its tracks with solid facts. "According to Sanford, legally any child can become self-sufficient through emancipation if they so choose."
"Do you understand him?" (y/n ) jeered. "That means in a few months, you have no control over him." Neil coughed, when his mother began sobbing.
"Please don't leave me, my boy. Not in this house alone!" Her words struck (y/n) like daggers, each a cut in her heart.
"I'm sorry Mother," Neil swallowed to keep his voice from breaking.
"I can change," Mr. Perry tried, but Neil wouldn't have it.
"I'd rather be dead, than live by your rules." he admitted, finding strength in the prescence of his friends. "Even if that means I move in with one of them." (y/n) perked up.
"My mother's London flat has a spare bedroom!" She giggled when Neil's parents blanched. Then, Mr. Perry laughed. A real, loud and obnoxious laugh.
"He wouldn't." it came out sounding like a dare. Except, Neil was serious. He turned to (y/n), intrigued.
"I've always wanted to go to London." (y/n) smirked.
"I can show you each spot of Jack The Ripper's murders! What fun!" Neil's mother fanned herself.
"Dear?" she offered quietly, taking Mr. Perry's arm. "Perhaps we ought to love our son with less, well - less control?" Mr. Perry looked astounded.
"I- I'm trying! I don't want him to end up like me, working himself to death for a home." Neil finally took a step forward, engulfing both of his parents in a bone-crushing hug.
"But, I will be rich." he spoke lovingly, seeming to forgive them for everything. His mother, for her silence, and his father, for loving with such an iron fist. "I will be rich in life and adventures, and companions. I would rather be poor and happy than wealthy and lonely - like you."
Neil's father huffed out a laugh. "You teenagers - you get worse every year." Neil smiled too, although (y/n) couldn't decipher the inside joke they seemed to share.
"Yep!" he said, popping the 'p' quite happily "And you know what? Thank God for that."
Charlie looked at his watch and glanced up at the group.
"I hate to ruin this," he began tentatively "but Keating ought to be back at the school and if we aren't back before curfew..." he let the sentence run off unfinished, but each of them knew the meaning.
"Yes, well, Neil will stay here. With us," his father demanded, not ruthlessly as he had before but rather with a tenderness (y/n) hadn't ever heard.
"I will?" Neil asked, astounded.
"We have much to discuss," his father explained, putting a hand on his should carefully.
"Alright fellas," Neil surrendered with a sigh and turned to face them. "I'll see you in the morning for our Hellton hash, okay?" They each filed out, somberly wishing him a good night.
(y/n) however, suspected something would go amiss, for this was not a fairy tale.
"Ah, Miss (y/l/n)." Neil's father stopped her from leaving. "You are one of the most headstrong, rude young women that I have ever met - and I hope to see you never again." All the while, however he smiled at the girl who changed his mind, to accept his son for who he was.
"Oh, sir," she pretended to swoon. "My hate for thee runs deep as well. Oh, and tell your delicious wife that if she ever finds you unsatisfying, I'll certainly keep her entertained." The two smiled in understanding, because they were enemies no longer, but rather allies in helping Neil recover his life and pick up the shattered pieces of his heart.
"Goodnight, (y/n)."
"You too, sir."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
a/n: HOLY SHIT this chapter was literally 4.3k words oh my god. Also i got my wisdom teeth removed yesterday so this entire chapter feels like such a weird fever dreams BUT as always I sincerely hoped you enjoyed what I wrote, because this is always what i wished happened instead of what shall not be mentioned.
Does it make sense????
At the end, which is a bit confusing, Neil's father is almost thanking (y/n) for helping him to realize how close he almost came to losing his son, and I wanted them to have kinda a love-hate relationship.
In all honestly I don't think Neil's dad never loved him, I think he loved him too much and that's what caused all the issues! But yeah, this is my take!
Now, you might be wondering what other tragedy might befall the group?
Read on, if you dare....
P.s!!! Only one more chapter of canon events, then I am completely off the rails rewriting this fabulous film however my mind chooses! Deal with it uwu <3