Chapter Text
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Todd sobs into his hands.
“Todd,” Charlie replies, voice breaking as he puts a hand on his friend’s back. The rest of the boys surround them, all sheltering Todd from the audience’s vision as they initiate a massive group hug with Todd at the core. “It’s gonna be okay, Todd. It’s gonna be okay.”
“He wouldn’t— he wouldn’t have done it,” Todd slowly emerges from the pile of his friends and crosses downstage right. Charlie follows, and so does Meeks.
“You can’t explain it Todd,” Meeks says after a beat. Todd looks down, as scripted, and has a moment to himself.
“It was his father!” Todd suddenly snaps and turns to face Meeks. Meeks backs up a little.
Real Todd, the writer of this play, sighs. He’d meant for this line to sound like a revelation, not like a sudden shout. He blames it on the exclamation point he put into the script. Most actors see exclamation points and think “okay, now, I must YELL!” but Todd used exclamation points in a more flexible manner. However, Actor Todd resembled Real Todd enough in stature and looks and he could fake a really great sob, so Real Todd let it slide during rehearsals.
Maybe Todd could demand a reprint of the script so he could deliberately put in: TODD, with an air of desperation, clearly in denial: It was his father!
“No,” Charlie said, grabbing (Actor) Todd’s shoulders. Todd shoved Charlie off and walked to center downstage and stared off into the crowd.
“He wouldn’t have left us,” Todd fell to his knees. “It’s because he— he wouldn’t have. His dad—” Both Todds’s faces soured at the mention of Neil’s father. Even years after Neil had cut contact with his father, mentioning the man always dampened the mood. “His… his father did it.”
“You can’t explain it Todd,” Meeks said. The boys fanned themselves out as a rigid line parallel to the edge of the stage with Todd situated in the middle of it all. Neil— Actor Neil, renamed in the play to Robert in an attempt to avoid suspicion— came out of the curtains on stage left, still dressed in his Puck costume. He put a hand on Actor Todd’s shoulder for a lingering moment and then hugged him from behind. The theater went into a blackout. There was a moment of silence, and then soft orchestral music swelled from the speakers.
The crowd rose to a standing ovation. Todd, having never actually been in the crowd during a proper showing of his play, is overwhelmed by all the positivity he hears. He blushes a bright red and looks down at the playbill in an embarrassed manner. He doesn’t know what to do with himself besides smile awkwardly and let the sounds of positive reception clog the air.
The lights switch back on, bathing the stage in a superb bright light as the rest of the ensemble comes back onto the stage for their final bows and applause.
Charlie— Real Charlie, close friend of Neil Perry and by extension close friend-in-law of Todd’s— walks from his front-row seat and out onto the stage. The crowd erupted again into an equally deafening uproar, and he bows slightly. A tech crew member dressed from head to toe in black clothing runs out, hands him a microphone, and disappears.
Todd looks at the state and knows he will forever be grateful that Charlie offered to be his spokesperson. Todd originally had Neil in mind for this job because Neil was… well, Neil was the catalyst for Todd’s career. Neil’s unwavering support and love for Todd’s poetry all but fueled the fire of Todd’s passion for writing.
And Neil’s… attempt was the whole reason why Todd plunged himself into writing, a distraction for himself as Neil recovered in the hospital. Weeks would go by, Todd would find a familiar spot in a hard chair in Neil’s room, and pen Life Without You first in the format of a play, for Neil, and then in a book, and some other short poems he’d read aloud in a soft voice when Neil was conscious. Every day, Todd whispered a prayer of thanks that Neil had fumbled with the gun.
But no matter how perfect Neil was for being Todd’s publicist, he was just so in love with being a teacher. His eyes brightened when he spoke of his students. He worked tirelessly on grading and aiding and he always woke up before the alarm clock did with a wide grin on his face because his students adored him and he adored them. Todd didn’t want to uproot all of Neil’s routine just so he could avoid talking about himself in front of crowds. If success had sent Todd a note about it and popularity coming in a package deal, Todd would have avoided the whole publishing-your-writing thing and just become a banker or something.
Todd expressed his concerns to the other Poets two years ago when they met up for their annual reunion (missing Neil, who was on a drama trip with his students in New York and Knox, who was stuck at work), Charlie’s head stopped mid-bite into his chocolate croissant and quickly offered to do it instead.
It wasn’t expected, but it was a match made in heaven. Todd could go on living in obscurity and Charlie, already having an established career as a lawyer for a while, loved talking to large groups of people and partaking in useless interviews. Charlie knew enough about Todd and Neil to answer questions about them. Charlie had the exact type of confident aura and charisma Todd lacked. Charlie, as it turned out, was the perfect one for the job.
“Hello,” Charlie says into the microphone after the crowd calmed down a bit. “You all… probably know me from the interviews and stuff. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, this work of art was created by the highly talented Mr. Todd Anderson, who wishes for his face to remain anonymous for the time being.”
Todd looks around casually, trying to see if anyone was looking his way. When he realizes nobody is paying him any attention, he lets out a breath he didn’t even notice he was holding in.
“I’ve had the utmost pleasure of knowing our little Dead Poets Society ever since our years at Welton,” Charlie continues. “But most of all, I’m very impressed with how far our Todd Anderson has come.”
Todd’s face feels hot. He grips his playbill so hard his knuckles turned white. Tonight’s praise felt unwarranted, he feels like the plotline was mediocre compared to other things he’d consumed and—
And then he pictures Neil.
Todd. Honey. Love of my life. You gotta let yourself take a compliment for once. Especially if you don’t feel like you deserve it.
He loosens his grasp on the playbill.
“Todd Anderson was the shyest guy I knew. If you think this jumping-through-hoops-to-avoid-having-his-face-attached to his name was shy, you should’ve seen him when he first rolled up to Welton,” Charlie laughs and the crowd joins in. “If it weren’t for Robert’s extreme extrovertism and our great teacher Mr. Keating’s equally great extrovertism, I don’t even know how I could’ve found out what an awesome friend he is. Or what a talented person he is.
“Seriously, Todd, churned out poem by poem for English class. They were beautiful and profound and sensitive— and the weirdest part is, he didn’t even show us the ‘bad ones.’ There’s a whole file folder with a lock on it with the ‘bad ones’ in it and nobody has ever seen that folder since we were in high school. Todd Anderson is a serious poem-writing machine,” Charlie had avoided talking about why Todd had churned out poem by poem when they were in high school, which Todd is grateful for. “And over the years I’ve got to see him grow. I’ve got to see him slowly cut himself some slack and let himself go once in a while without caring about what others thought. I got to see him fall in love— if you could consider his and Robert’s relationship anything but love at first sight.”
The crowd awww s. Todd smiles.
“Anyway, I’d just like to say that while Todd Anderson is terrified of speaking in front of big crowds, he greatly appreciates your love and support. He actually physically wrestled me into coming here in person on his behalf and is currently holding my fiancé hostage as incentive,” Charlie says, pacing about the stage. “Todd, old buddy, old pal, if you’re somehow seeing this, I hope you’ll let him go now.”
Todd snorts. Meeks was in the crowd right beside Charlie’s empty seat, completely safe.
“So that’s all I have to say for now,” Charlie says, with the air of someone who had their fiancé held hostage. “I— and Todd— are so so glad you enjoyed this special performance Life Without You and we’re looking forward to hearing all of your opinions on the Netflix Original movie. You guys are an awesome community and without your interest, this literally could have never ever happened. I can only stand here on Todd’s behalf and say thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank. You.” Charlie points into the crowd. “You all have a great night, people. Goodbye.”
Music swells from the speakers through the large auditorium and people start to leave. Todd remains seated, staring at the stage and feeling… happy.
Todd Anderson is happy. And he feels perfectly alright.
***
“It’s Todd and I,” Todd says when he catches Charlie and Meeks. They’d parked their cars beside one another so they could meet up afterward.
“What?” Charlie replies as Meeks unlocks car.
“You said I— and Todd— are so so glad you enjoyed…”
“Words shwords,” Charlie waves a hand. He has an arm around Meeks’s shoulders.
“You’re a lawyer. Words are your trade,” Meeks replies. Todd nods.
“Lawyers don’t concern themselves with grammar,” Charlie ruffles Todd’s hair. “You’re still coming over, right?”
“I don’t know…” Todd always got a little Neil-deficient when he thought too hard about Life Without You. He, although making loose plans about hanging out with all the Poets two days ago, wants nothing more right now than to turn on a nice, quiet movie about something unimportant and lean on Neil’s shoulder. He wants to nod at Neil poking fun at the plot, he wants to listen to Neil’s laugh.
He feels like a lovestruck high schooler— Oh, Neil… I want to bury my face into your chest, Neil. I want to be by you, Neil. Never let me go, Neil.
Charlie, vaguely aware of how sensitive Todd gets after viewing Life Without You, smiles knowingly. “Ah, who am I kidding? Go home, kiss your husband, and watch Sleepless In Seattle again. I know you want to,”
“Are you sure?” Todd has entirely given up on concealing his real intentions. Charlie’s eyes pierce through him like a hawk’s.
“Yeah I’m sure. If you don’t come back then I can go back home, throw on a silk robe, and wait for Meeks to f—”
“That’s very nice of you, thank you!” Todd interrupts, not wanting to listen to Charlie’s sexual fantasies. “I’ll see you guys around, then?”
“You will,” Meeks says, opening the passenger door.
“Whether you want to or not,” Charlie laughs. He hops into his car and pulls out of the lot. Todd copies him, gunning the engine of his own car and races home at twice the speed limit.
When he reaches home— a lovely three-bedroom apartment with a small garden in the balcony— he tosses his keys onto the dining table, loosens his tie, and heads straight into Neil’s office.
Neil, predictably, is still pouring over lesson plans. He’s wearing his pajamas and those sexy wire-rimmed glasses of his. Todd does not stop moving until his arms wrap around Neil in a giant hug.
Neil laughs and spins himself around. He’s sitting in the fancy leather chair he insisted on buying last year the second he saw it at a garage sale. “Hey! Was the show good?”
“It would’ve been better if you were there,” Todd mumbles into his shoulder. Todd half-sits on his husband’s lap, clinging onto Neil like a koala.
My husband. Todd feels light and floaty when he thinks about the twin wedding rings he and Neil wear. He’s my husband and I’m his husband and we’re married and doing what we want and life is lovely.
“I’m sorry babe, but you know how it is before school starts,” Neil says, nodding to his clunky desktop computer and the messy notes he’s been jotting down in a repurposed planner that he didn’t use in 2009. The dates are all corrected with sticky notes and permanent marker. Todd thinks it would’ve been less expensive to buy a new planner, but Neil hated not using things he already had to their full potential. So the planner from ten years ago became today’s planner.
“I knoooowww,” Todd groans, leaning back a little. “But it’s just so awful not being able to hold your hand when you… y’know…”
“Die?” Neil smiles sympathetically. Neil talked easily about it (sometimes even joking about it), having gone through all the necessary help, but the people who loved him still tended to tread lightly about the topic.
“Yeah,” Todd frowns.
“I guess I can potentially put this relatively important work on hold,” Neil runs a hand through Todd’s hair. “I mean, eating ice cream on the couch and watching TV in our pajamas seems like it takes top priority right now.”
Todd kisses Neil and detaches himself. “I love you,”
“Hey, that was a lameo kiss,” Neil protests. “Come back right now.”
“I’ll kiss you again if you meet me on the couch,”
“Villainy! My heart shatters into two!” Neil cries as Todd darts out the door. He waltzes into the kitchen to grab two bowls and two spoons. The top shelf freezer holds Neil’s pralines and cream, while the bottom shelf is the home of Todd’s salted caramel. Two scoops (if you can call sad lumps of hard ice cream that) glide into the bowls, Todd quickly changes into pyjama pants and an oversized shirt he got for volunteering at a young writers summer camp back in high school. It was so big on him back then, he had to use rubber bands to tie the excess material off and tuck it into his jeans. Now, it looked only about two sizes too big on him. He thought it looked ridiculous, but Neil said he looked adorable in it. And Neil liking it on Todd naturally made it Todd’s most frequently worn pajama shirt.
“Fowl move, Anderson,” Neil says from the couch when Todd emerges from the bedroom. The TV is on, but it’s not playing anything at the moment.
“It’s Anderson-Perry,” Todd sings in reply. He brings the ice cream to the coffee table in front of the couch and flips down by Neil’s side. He feels his muscles relaxing and his face smiling. It's like he’s in a beautiful dream.
“I shall not associate my honorable name with your blackened one,” Neil shoves his shoulder playfully.
“Whatever will I do?” Todd sighs.
“Maybe…” Neil inches closer. “A kiss from the horrible criminal could fix the current issue at hand.”
“Are you certain?”
“All could be forgotten,” Neil says in a low tone.
“I will… consider it,”
“Consider?” Neil breaks character. “Todd, you’re killing me. You’re driving a poisoned dagger into my heart. I’m perishing slowly as we speak.”
Todd grins. He leans in close with nothing but Neil on his mind, and after waiting all night, finally seals the awful distance between their lips.