Egads! I think I've finished this story. I don't handle writing longer fics very well (and yes, 5k is a longer fic to me!) because it's like trying to juggle 50 eggs and you know by the end that you've dropped at least three dozen of them and now, literally, have egg on your face... but OH WELL. And besides, I've used up all the ink in my pen and my post-DPS angst is over. So it must be finished.
Without further ado, I present Chapter 1 of... The Winter of our Discontent.
(I literally just decided on that title then.)
Disclaimer: DPS isn't mine. Reviews are most excellent things. (You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.)
When Neil knew he wanted to be an actor, it became one of the two things in life that he had always known, and one of the two things in his life worth fighting for – and so, when his father outright forbids him from returning to the play, forbids him from returning to Welton, and tells him that without a doubt he will study to become a doctor, Neil fights.
He stands there in his Puck costume and his overcoat and his sweating, livid skin, and he pleads. He reasons. He cries. He threatens.
Every time his mother tries to calm him with meaningless words or his father tells him that that's the end of the matter, Neil goes back for more. He shouts things in the heat of the battle that he would never dare to even think in peace time, flecks of spit flying from his mouth.
"You're not a father," he yells. "You don't want what's best for me. You don't even love me. You're just sending me to hell. Well, I hope you go there too."
Mr Perry's face turns a purple-grey colour that Neil will never forget, and he raises his hand. But he doesn't hit Neil; instead, he coughs, and holds his hand over his chest; he reaches out to grab at something, anything; his hand grasps thin air and he falls to the floor.
Mrs Perry screams.
Neil stands there, sparks flying from his eyes until he realises his father isn't moving.
And although an ambulance is called for and Mr Perry is rushed to the hospital, that is the last time Neil will see his father alive. Those are the last words he will say to him.
In the few short days following Mr Perry's death, murmur becomes rumour and rumour becomes fact: Mr Perry died of shock, because his son, Neil Perry, would not respect him or obey his wishes, and in the end, broke his heart.
Not that the parents at Welton Academy blame Neil as such – they're more inclined to sympathise and pity the 'poor boy' who was led astray by the irresponsible and frankly communistic goading of that English teacher (if, indeed, he could be called a 'teacher'), Mr John Keating. The tidal wave of parental approval turns against Mr Keating and by the end of the term, two families have withdrawn their boys from the school. The Dead Poets Society is routed out and Mr Keating is asked by the principal if he would like to submit his resignation.
Neil's mother does not force Neil to change schools, but he does not return to Welton until after the winter break.