Dead Poets Society - Imagines and preferences

10 Years Later (2/3)

Your heart drummed in your ears as you escalated the slope leading to the Dead Poets Society cave. Your eyes flickered in every direction, remembering everything that you were seeing, like the cuckoo nest on the tree pointing north or the patches of moss spread on the rocks. The place hadn't changed at all.

You inhaled the fresh scent of the forest - the flowers, the wood. Everything somehow ticked off a part of your brain, bringing back long lost memories of the events that had taken place here ten years ago. They flooded your brain - the nights spent reading poetry aloud, telling horror stories, or that time Charlie scared the hell out of Pitts as you were leaving.

And there it was - the cave.

Exhaling slowly, you felt your senses tingling in anticipation. Seeing the boys after all this time would certainly be quite a shock - no! No, they were no longer boys. They were grown men. All of you had grown up, had changed. Would they be the same people you befriended a decade ago?

Then a thought hit you - what if no one came? What if it was just you and Todd, just like that awful night, the last meeting, where it was only down to the two of you?

You brushed the thought away. Long before Neil's death, you'd all made promises - promised you would meet up again even after graduation, promised you would answer the call. On Dead Poets' honor. The boys - the men - would come.

You inhaled deeply and stepped inside the cave.

To your surprise, someone was already there.

"Pittsie!" you screamed, and threw yourself in his open arms.

"Y/N! Oh, Y/N, it's really you!"

"Yes, Pittsie, it's me," you cried and laughed at the same time, and so did he. Simply seeing him again was lighting fireworks inside your soul.

After a long hug, you finally pulled apart from him to observe him.

He'd gotten even taller, and he'd shaven his hair to the brim. He now had a short beard outlining his jaw and upper lip.

"Jesus, you've changed, Pittsie," you whispered, wiping away a tear.

"You too, Y/N - are you crying? Don't cry?" He took you in his arms once again.

"I'm just so glad to see you," you sniffled as you smiled.

"Oh my gosh - Pittsie, Y/N... is that really you?"

You spun around to see a young man standing at the entrance of the cave. He still had the same dirty blond hair as the last time you saw him. His eyes were still as soft and warming. And he'd grown a short beard - just around his mouth and on his chin.

"TODD!" you and Gerard both screamed, and the next second you choked him in a hug.

"Lemme breathe, guys," he managed to get out, and you stepped away, laughing with joy. "I can't believe it.... You really came! I didn't think you would."

"Dead Poets' Honor," you say.

"Dead Poets' Honor," repeats Pitts.

"This feels like paradise - seeing you again..."

It's only then that it hit you - Todd had changed. So much. He was nothing like the shy, socially awkward boy you met ten years ago on your first day back to Welton. Now he was laughing, outgoing, opening up - he was the one who asked you to all come here!

Then a shadow appeared on the wall of the cave.

"Hullo? Anyone here?" called a voice that you would have recognized amongst thousands.

"KNOXIOUS!" you cried.

"KNOX! Over here!" called Pitts.

"Oh my gosh, he came, I can't believe it!" squealed Todd.

You all were fidgeting with your fingers, giggling with excitement like five year olds as Knox made his entrance. His eyes widened and lit up at the sight of you three, and he froze on the spot, his jaw dropping open, speechless.

"C'mon man, I know it's been a long time but do we at least get a greeting hug?" joked Todd.

"Wow - just - wow..." he whispered, before squeezing you three in his arms.

He'd grown too - in fact he was almost as tall as Pitts. His hair had gone from chestnut-colored to a darker shade of brown, and his facial traits had hardened with the years.

"We're still missing Meeks and Charlie," you frowned. "You sent them a letter too, right?"

"Of course..." said Todd, and suddenly his eyes filled with an unknown sadness. "About that... um... Meeks isn't coming."

"Really? Why?" asked Knox. "Doesn't he remember? We all swore - I remember it - to come back... on Dead Poets' Honor!"

"Oh my gosh, I remember that," says Pitts. "I remember.... It was at the beginning of the year Mr. Keating arrived. During one of our first meetings."

"Todd? Why isn't Meeks coming?" insisted Knox.

"I'll tell you guys," he whispered, then cleared his throat. "I'll tell you guys when Charlie arrives - if he ever arrives..."

As if to answer his statement, a saxophone suddenly began playing somewhere in the woods.