Chapter Text
It took Todd Anderson all of two minutes to puzzle out the various clues and finally figure out what happened. This is still longer than it probably should've taken him.
After all, it was so painstakingly obvious. Neil being shepherded away by his father, Neil mysteriously not returning back to the dorm that night, Neil's things having disappeared when Todd went up to the room after class the next day. Despite seeing for himself the talent that was his son, Mr. Perry had to have put his foot down - Neil must have been gone, shipped off to some other prestigious school where he could not be touched by Keating or his poetry.
The realization, though, was by far the easiest part. After that came the daunting task of continuing as a typical Hellton student with no one to laugh at his rare, feeble jokes; no one to steal glances at his poetry over his shoulder; no one to curl against in the middle of the freezing nights; no one to kiss softly under the cover of darkness. The Poets were friends, even brothers, to Todd, but some small part of him couldn't help but fear that they loved Neil's Todd, not the one that agonized over choosing each and every word before speaking. How could they?
In that respect, though, Todd was lucky. Charlie, Knox, Steven, and Gerard remained steadfast in their friendship, forever dedicated to the great Dead Poets Society. Really, they only seemed to grow closer in the days following the discovery - each of them were bonded by a wretched, overpowering feeling strangely akin to grief, and they suffered through the absence of their best friend together. Keating, too, encouraged them to stick together, but it was only so long until they lost him too.
If you asked Charlie, he would say it was Cameron's fault, and the others would probably agree with him. It was simplest to blame the traitor. Yet Todd couldn't help but channel his resentment toward none other but Mr. Perry. What need would Cameron have to fink if it weren't for him? Why rat out Keating and the Dead Poets Society if an investigation into the unorthodox teaching methods hadn't been demanded by the family of a "troubled" former student? It was simply a case of shooting between the messenger and the one actually at fault - Todd chose the latter.
Regardless of the real criminal, the investigation rolled forward at full speed in the days after Cameron's confession. Students of all classes and grades were being questioned about Keating's inappropriate and overbearing advice, and for the members of the Society, life continued only under the close watch of all trusted teachers, who were quick to report any misdeeds, however minor, to Nolan.
Pressure pulsed through the air surrounding the Poets; tension pulled all their interactions taught. It was hard not to be drowned in resentment for their situation - Neil was gone; Keating was soon-to-be gone - but they did their best to pull through. They exchanged self-deprecating jokes and committed themselves to silence, a silence they swore would go unbroken when the time finally came for each of them to be questioned.
Todd could not know exactly what had happened in his peers' meetings with Nolan, but it would be impossible to forget being the last one to trudge through the heavy oak doors of the headmaster's office and face his parents, each looking painfully disappointed that he'd already managed to tarnish Jeffery's legacy. A sick taste tinged his tongue and he felt the spirits of his friends weighing down on him as he sat in the chair that waited for him. Somewhat predictably, Nolan presented him with a paper smearing Keating's teaching methods and denouncing the activities of the Dead Poets Society. In such instances, this was to be expected. Keating was the scapegoat, of course they'd expect the students' cooperation in dragging him down.
What Todd did not expect, however, were the neatly scrawled signatures at the bottom of the page:
Richard Cameron
Charlie Dalton
Steven Meeks
Gerard Pitts
Knox Overstreet
And, before them all: Neil Perry.