History's repeat

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

A/N: well, here is chapter five, and the first meeting of the modern society...now, I know I promised not to rehash the dialogues, buta few phrasesof it still come from the movie.

5. Midnight Dream

When the bell of Weldon's church chimes midnight, the grounds are still. Everyone is asleep for a long time now, but the seven students. One of them sneaks out of their doors, with her room mate at her heels. Two others soon follow. With some distance, another three sneak out.

The last one, their leader, carefully makes sure the doors to their rooms are firmly shut, and that everyone has what they need. She snuffles a large book more comfortably at her hands and dashes silently after the others.

They all gather near the entrance of the cave, through none but the leader know it. The leader slips in the cave silently, before grabbing one of her unsuspecting followers and pulling him down with her.

"Argh! What the fuck?"

The teen vigorously brushes himself off, while the girl laughs along with the others, who had by now found their way in without her help.

"Dammit, Chris, that's not even funny," the boy grumbles, fumbling for his flashlight. When he finally finds it, Chris's dark hair, all pulled back in a ponytail but for that fringe, and her dark merry eyes flash back at him.

"What, Alex, didn't like the dunking?" she asks sweetly, and the teen just sighs with exasperation.

The others have quieted by now, all settling themselves around. Chris gives an involuntary motion with her shoulders – the cave suddenly was cramped. When she was here alone, just the forthnight ago, it seemed huge.

"Well, then, let us begin?" Rojer voiced.

"Ah, yes." Chris rose to her feet, holding the old book with her. "I hereby commence the meeting of the Dead Poets Society open."

"Whew. Now that all the darkest secrets are almost out of the bag…" Nikkie comments lightly, and Chris swats her on the arm.

"I wasn't finished yet," she says. "Here's this entry that says: To be read at the opening of the DPS meetings. So here it is:

'We went to the woods because we wanted to live deliberately… we want to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life!"

"Seconded," Alex grins. He is sprawled next to Chris, who is happy to deliver another elbow in his ribs. "Ow, what's that for?"

"Don't interrupt," Chris says before finishing, "… To put route to all the marrow of life, And to discover that we have not lived.' Now, these meetings will be conducted by myself and my fellow Poets. Anyone not wishes to read aloud?"

"No," Rojer says after a moment's silence. The others nod vigorously.

"All right then. Roj, you want to start?"

"Sure, why not?" Rojer stands up, flicks an imaginary dust from his coat and takes the proferred book from Chris. "O Captain, my captain, poem by Mr Wilts."

The rest laugh, since Rojer makes a deliberate mistake in the name. Rojer strikes a pose, a book in one hand, and his other hand on his hip.

"O, captain! My captain! Our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring…"

Rojer pauses for awhile, flipping through the book. "And then he goes on and on in the same vein for three more verses."

The guys and girls laugh and Alex snatches the book. "My turn. Ahh, here's another poem we didn't get to hear till the end.

To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today,

To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun,

The higher he's a-getting;

The sooner will his race be run,

And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best, which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse, and worst

Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And while ye may, go marry;

For having lost but once your prime,

You may forever tarry."

He takes a slight bow and passes the book to next person.

With a dreamy smile, Chris watches her fellow Poets and Poetesses, as they, one after another, read poems. When the book returns to her, she closes it.

"I think I'll pass. We have to get back now, we still have the play to revise. Any stray Fairy around?"

"I play one," Ana curtsies lightly, and Chris grins and bows mockingly. She knows that Ana is suited for the role – she is very small indeed.

As the group goes back to school, Chris softly starts reciting her lines. Then even she falls silent, as they ran across the empty school yard.

Stopping for a moment, Chris turns towards the graveyard, and shudders, as she sees a mist covering the grounds. An almost unnoticeable movement in the graveyard makes Chris shiver, and she stops.

"Chris? What is it?" Alex whispers. He had noticed Chris had stopped, and turned back to step up to her.

"Maybe my imagination. I thought I saw somebody there," she confesses.

Alex shakes his head and takes her by her elbow.

"Come on, you're just tired after this thing. A sleep will do you good."

With a brief nod, Chris follows Alex, but not without a backward glance at the foggy grounds.

He does not remember who he is. His surroundings are dark, so it must be night. He is watching the seven figures dash towards the building which he knows is Weldon Academy. One of the figures stops to look back and the other returns to lead it back to their companions.

So, the Academy still is the same, he muses silently. They even have the Society on place. I wonder, are those guys aware of the trouble they are capable of stirring up?

He sharply turns to look at the sky. This group is much bolder than they have been, since the sky lightens with dawn. The mists evaporate from the ground, and he disappears.

Chris shudders. Amy is long since asleep, but Chris can't do the same. She always was uneasy about a night, and the tiny fact that she had stayed out of bed a tad longer than was necessary had spooked her sufficiently.

Shrugging off the covers, Chris sits up, and walks in the direction of the library. Knowing she would be unable to sleep any more, she dresses properly before she leaves, the blouse, the skirt, etcetera. When she is almost there, she runs into Alex.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Alex whispers quietly. Chris nods.

"Yeah. I always did hate the night. Now it's that Society that's spooking me."

"I know what you mean." Alex casually slings his arm around Chris's shoulders, as they find themselves in the trophy room. "I had a hard time falling asleep without extra light."

"You, Alexander Perry, afraid of dark?" Chris snorts with disbelief. Alex gives a slight laugh.

"I can ask you the same, plus that ti-ny fact that you're our fearless leader who picked a jinxed role with a suicide toll on it. Which one of us is crazy?"

Chris pushes her dark hair away from her eyes and nestles close to Alex.

"Don't remind me about that. I have never acted before, so I have no idea why Miss Richards thinks I'll make a good Puck."

"That's a part of mischief management, this Society of yours is," Alex says. Chris laughs softly, before glancing up at him.

"I… I guess we should head back before anyone finds us here."

Alex looks at her curiously – he can see that their fearless leader is blushing lightly in the grey dawn of the day.

"You're right," he hears his voice agreeing with her. "You'll be all right?"

Chris nods and disappears in her dorm.

Alex leans on the wall of the trophy room, giving the room a hard glance. Then he follows Chris's example – a detention won't be a good thing, he thinks to himself. Especially not in early morning.

A/N: okay, well… this idea came as I though about a book I've been reading a few months ago, so I thought, why not? I mean, I'll see where this leads… eventually.