Neil presented Todd with the box of chocolates with a huge smile on his face.
"What's all this for?" Todd asked bashfully.
"I just wanted to do something nice for you." Neil had been doing that lately. Something about Todd made Neil feel like he was melting.
Todd smiled pure sunshine and accepted the box graciously. Neil quickly kissed him on the cheek before plopping down his bag and kicking off his shoes. Unlike Todd, who wore his ratty white sneakers almost everywhere, Neil would rather die than wear his shoes on the bed.
He began to unpack his rehearsal bag, tucking his costume in the back of his closet while Todd ate his candy.
Neil settled in, unwinding in his usual way: setting up his spot on the radiator, grabbing his script and a highlighter. Neil liked to annotate, write notes in the margins. It helped him define his character, and only made it easier when he ran lines by the dock.
Todd cleared his throat, and flipped a page of his book.
Neil popped the cap of his highlighter and it fell to the ground. He reached down, patting around the floor, but couldn't find it.
Todd coughed, catching it in his elbow. Neil looked over at him. Todd had a confused look on his face and a hand hovering over his throat.
"Are you okay, Toddy?"
Neil's heart began to beat very quickly. Was something the matter?
Todd looked as though he was being broken out of some trance. "Yeah, yeah, I'm...um, actually I..." He began to breathe very roughly, Neil could see him break out in a sweat.
"What's wrong?" Neil stood up, his blanket falling at his feet. "How can I help?"
Something was wrong.
Todd was wheezing now. "Desk drawer..." he managed to say.
Something was wrong. Something was wrong.
Neil sprung into action. He didn't know what was happening, but it scared him. He rooted through Todd's desk, and found one drawer that was empty, save for a clear tube with a yellow label.
That was it, it had to be. Neil grabbed the strange tube and handed it to Todd, who snatched it out of his hand.
Todd fumbled with it for a second. He wasn't breathing at all now, but was keeping his cool. He had been here before, every motion was mechanical.
Neil wasn't. He knelt beside Todd, holding his free hand with pure fear in his eyes. He could feel the pulse on Todd's wrist, calm and collected unlike the frantic drumming inside his own chest, like a toddler banging on pots and pans.
Then, in a swift, practiced move, Todd plunged the needle of the Epipen into his thigh. He grit his teeth in pain, squeezing Neil's hand as he held it there, then almost scornfully cast it aside.
A second passed, then he took a deep, gasping breath in.
"Todd? What's going on?"
Was it over?
Todd leaned back against the bedframe, closing his eyes as he caught his breath. This sent Neil spiraling once again.
"Todd? Darling, wake up. What can I do, how can I help?"
Todd flicked open his eyes. "I need to," he raised his hand back to his throat, "I need to go to the hospital."
"Alright," Neil said gently. "Okay, I'll go call an ambulance."
"Thank you, dear."
Anaphylactic shock. That's what the EMTs called it, just before rudely denying Neil the right to ride with Todd on the way to the hospital. Severe hazelnut allergy.
They had pulled him out of there on a stretcher, Todd bright red from embarrassment.
"I can walk," he said. "Just let me walk."
They did not. In fact, to top it all off, they slid an oxygen mask over his face.
As a result, Neil recruited Charlie as a sort of bodyguard, and boy was he good at his job. The minute a crowd began to form, he was on the scene. He yelled at the students craning their necks, and even picked up and walked away with a nosy seventh grader.
Pitts happened to walk by as Todd was being transported. He went up to Charlie.
"Jesus, what happ-"
"KEEP WALKING, BUDDY."
Charlie was very good at his job.
Neil was beside himself. He threw the box of chocolates out the window and deep-cleaned the whole room. He dusted off his shitty medical textbooks and read everything he could on allergic reactions. He felt so stupid, this shouldn't have happened.
The hospital who too far to bike to, though Neil would've anyway if the other poets didn't stop him. Cameron had threatened him in every way under the sun, Knox practically held him down to stop him from biking there and almost certainly getting hit by a car when he passed out from exhaustion.
This had outraged him.
"Is Jeffrey at least there?" he had asked into the phone. Neil had called to ask for visiting hours and an update on the situation.
"I'm sorry, who?"
"His brother, is his brother visiting him?"
The receptionist paused, checking something. "No, he doesn't have any visitors at the moment."
"So he's alone?" Neil had to stop himself from yelling.
"Yes, sir. If it's any help, I can assure you his condition is stable. He's only staying the night for observation, he's set to be discharged tomorrow."
That was a relief. But it didn't do anything to settle Neil's mind. As far as he was concerned, a hospital was a hospital, and Todd was probably scared to death.
Charlie sat on Neil's bed as he paced around the room. He yawned.
"I should probably start packing my things," Neil said.
"Why's that?"
"Knox doesn't have a roommate, right? I can move in with him."
"Calm yourself. Why are you moving out?"
"Because Todd's going to hate me. He won't want to live with me anymore."
Charlie almost burst out laughing. Todd hating Neil was ridiculous, unthinkable. "That's crazy."
"I put my boyfriend in the hospital, for christ's sake."
"You couldn't have known."
"But I should've!" Neil sat down on the radiator, resting his head on his hands. "I..I should know him better than that. I'm an idiot," he groaned.
It wasn't just performative, Neil meant every word he said. He had almost killed Todd, Todd! The last person he would ever hurt.
Neil really, truly hated himself. And Todd had every right to be mad. "I should start packing," he said again, opening the closet.
Charlie threw a pencil at his face.
Some part of Neil's unconscious brain heard a rustling in the dark, and he jolted awake.
"Todd?" he whispered, squinting his eyes to make out the figure in the doorway. It was a miracle that Neil had gotten to sleep at all, as worried as he was, and now something was interrupting.
"What a coincidence," said a calm, friendly voice. "That's exactly who I've come to talk to you about."
"Mr. Keating?"
"Brace yourself," he said before flicking the lights on.
Neil closed his eyes before the light came on, and managed to avoid those few seconds of blindness that come with a sudden change of brightness.
When his eyes opened again, he saw something that made his stomach sink.
Mr. Keating was holding a book, Todd's poetry book, one he had been filling all year long.
He placed it gracefully on Todd's desk as Neil's stomach sank further.
Why did he have Todd's book?
Where was Todd?
"Cap, is Todd..." Neil searched for the right word. Dead, he wanted to say. I killed him. But he was cut off, rather accidentally.
"You may want to put on your shoes and coat, Mr. Perry."
"Is Todd okay?"
Keating considered this, really mulling over his answer before delivering it to a hopeless Neil.
"No," he pursed his lip. "I suppose not. Which is why we'd better get going."
Neil froze in place, jaw agape in unimaginable terror. He'd done it. He'd killed his love. His lip began to quiver as he stared up at an unblinking Keating.
"Neil, why are-- oh! Dear God, oh no, boy, that's not what I meant!" Keating realized his fatal mistake. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Where is Todd?"
"Alive and well."
"Then why did you say...?"
"Because he's not okay, Neil. The boy's absolutely restless. I only just went to drop off his workbook, to give him something to pass the time. But he didn't want it. He only wanted one thing, and I couldn't give it to him."
Neil was on the edge of his seat. What was it Todd wanted, and how could he get it to him? Alcohol? He'd smuggle it in. Or maybe it wasn't something bad, maybe it was something Keating didn't know about.
Did he ask for Edmund, the childhood bunny plush tucked in the back of his closet somewhere? Neil would dig it out if he had to.
"What did he ask for?" Neil said, prepared to spring up and swim across the Atlantic to find it.
Keating smiled, shaking his head. "Only you, Neil. Only for you."