History's Repeat

Disclaimer: See chater one

A/N: Chapter nine to my story.

09. Well – Timed Rescue

"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:

And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."

The curtain falls as Chris solemly steps back from the stage. Her last soliloquy is delivered, the play is finished. The cheers and whoops of the audience are deafening and Chris is her old mischievous self in the instant.

"Cursed Play, huh?" she asks, nudging Alex.

"You still got to survive this night," Alex responds lightly. "And where did you go last night?"

"Out for a stroll," Chris replies, her look dreamy.

"Alex rolls his eyes.

"Don't tell me you went back to that grave again Chris. There's something creepy about it."

"You just don't like the dark," Chris teases lightly.

"No, I like the dark plenty, else I wouldn't be…" Alex catches himself before he says 'in the Society', instead saying, "It's not just it, I think there's something wrong with that grave."

Chris sighs. She did feel that someone was watching her there – but that feeling was more of someone watching over her rather than watching her.

'This is so confusing…'

A spirit haunts the year's last hours
Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers.
To himself he talks.

He is slighrtly surprised that the Puck is able to detect his presence the second time. He is standing leaning on the wall of auditorium, right next to the confused girl, who now is alone.

'You're here, aren't you?'

'Yeah.' The reply is calm and silent – only the Puck can hear it.

'I'm Chris. The Puck is only a role.' The girl says to him silently.

His eyes glint with mischief.

'It may be a role, but it's the one one needs to act,' he responds flippantly.

For at eventide, listening earnestly,
At his work you may hear him sob and sigh
In the walks;

Chris glances sharply in the direction of the 'voice'. She can see him now, something she couldn't earlier – he is standing right next to her.

He is wearing his costume, his Welton black-and-red cape and a wreath of twigs and leaves. His face is lit up by the familiar smile of mischief.

'I think you took that thing way too literally,' she says finally, glancing shyly down. The seventeen-year-old shadow gives her a sharp glance, as he studies her intently.

'Did I have a choice?' he finally asks so softly that she thinks it's her imagination.

Earthward he bowseth the heavy stalks
Of the moldering flowers.

'Well… I… you should have told your father…' she stammers.

His eyes glitter with bitterness.

'My father…' He heaves a sigh. 'He just didn't understand me. And I couldn't very well explain it to him…' He pauses and glances up at her. '…could I?'

Her dark eyes are slightly sad as she gazes up at him.

'Well, maybe you could. If you thought you could.' It's her turn to sigh now. 'That's what the Carpe Diem is about – not living right to the minute like you did, but considering what is ahead of you instead of this very second, this very moment…' she pauses. 'I guess you couldn't do that, huh?'

Heavily hangs the broad sunflower
Over its grave i' the earth so chilly;
Heavily hangs the hollyhock,
Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.

The shadow youth runs his hand through his dark hair in frustration.

'I don't know, Miss Puck. It really is way too complicated. One minute you have all those possibilities open up to you – like a dream – and the next minute they are snatched away so sharply that you hardly know how to breathe…' He cocks his head to one side, giving a rueful chuckle that goes almost unnoticed. 'I guess I could wait till my old man died and then forge ahead with the acting. But I just took a decision nobody else but me could take. You think I made a mistake?'

The air is damp, and hush'd, and close
As a sick man's room when he taketh repose
An hour before death;

Chris sighs in exasperation.

'That's the thing in talking with shadows,' she giggles silently. 'If you only were… ah… more real… I'd give you a piece of my mind and drag you to talk with your dad. Unfortunately, it's waving fists after battle lost…'

'Yeah, you're right here,' the shadow agrees as he frowns lightly.

My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves
Ath the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves,
And the breath
Of the fading edges of box beneath,
And the year's last rose.

They are silent until she asks one impossible question;

'What was the point of killing yourself that night, huh?"

The only thing he can answer is,

'You know what? I don't know that anymore.'

Heavily hangs the broad sunflower
Over its grave i' the earth so chilly;
Heavily hangs the hollyhock,
Heavily hangs the tiger-lily.

There is something very unsettling in the night. A cold chill passes through Chris, and it's not because of the shadow that is standing right next to her. Something terrible is about to happen – and she is not sure she wants to face it.

'Look out!'

The silent cry is well-timed, as Chris throws herself on the ground. The errant bullet passes through the shadow but it cannot hurt that which is not there. Cautiously raising her head, Chris notices a shadow darting back into the cover of the trees.

'A cursed play, huh?' she mutters so that the shadow could understand. 'More like a maniac who wants to kill everyone with this role on loose…'

The second bullet's whine is echoed with more precision. Chris cries out sharply, not really knowing why. Somehow, she feels light-headed, and light… way too light for being there.

She is in the forest – but when she passes straight thorugh the trees, she gasps in mild surprise as she realises what happened.

The one who had been shooting at her had succeeded.

So where was she?

Glancing around, The Puck realised she was at the grounds of Welton Academy. It was very dark, so the girl guessed it was night. Walking down the familiar road, the girl saw a fair haired boy sitting on the bridge, a table headset lying quite innocently next to him. The boy heaved a sigh of mild distress.

"Todd?" The second voice was all too familiar, and the Puck spun around to face him. He was quite alive and breathing, as he strode towards the other teen, glancing down at him in concern. "What's wrong?"

The quiet boy, whose name was Todd, glanced up at him.

"Oh. It's you." He was silent, before offering timidly, "it's my birthday today."

"Your birthday?" The dark-haired boy sounded genuinely surprised. "Happy Birthday, then."

"Thanks." The Puck noticed that Todd didn't sound too enthusiastic.

The other boy's eyes finally landed on the desk set lying next to Todd.

"Wait a sec… Isn't it the same desk set your parents gave you for your last birthday?" He asked in amazement. The Puck perked up, giving the boys her full attention.

Todd sighed again.

"Yeah they gave it to me last year… and the year before that… and the year before that year…" His soft voice actually sounded sarcastic. "I honestly don't think they even know what I'd like to get for my birthday…" The blonde sighed. "Sometimes I think they completely forget about me."

"Hmmm…" The other teen had now picked the desk set up and was twirling it in his hands. The Puck and Todd were both watching him with amusement and curiosity, respectively. "Say, Todd… This is the best deck set I've seen for years."

"Yeah? And how so?"

"We-ell…" The teenager gently drew his hand by the board's side. "It's got great manoeuvrability… and it's great value, too. Come on, Todd, not every teen receives such a grand deck set every birthday. You're very, very lucky." He handed the deck to the blonde. "Forget your parents for the moment, not like they were thinking about this thing."

"Oh yeah? How?" the Puck watched the two boys with curiosity, as one teen handed the deck set to another.

"I bet ya anything this thing can fly really, really well. Come on, Todd, show what it's really worth!"

The Puck gasped in delight as the boy considered things for a second and then threw it down. Papers, scissors, and other things the set contained – not to mention the set itself – flew all the way down to the ground, flapping the wooden boards almost like wings.

"World's first flying unmanned deck set," he cheered. The other boy laughed until he had to grab the stone fence for balance.

"That's great. Oh and don't you worry about the deck set. I'm sure you'll receive another one next year."

The other boy gave a timid laugh.

"You're probably right." He shivered. "Man, it's cold. Let's get inside, huh?"

"Sure."

The two boys went into the building, the dark haired teen happily muttering the lines from the script he was carrying in the pocket of his coat.

The script the Puck knows off by heart now.

'If we shadows had offended…' she murmurs softly, following the boys to the ground. 'Think but this and all is mended… Well, Miss Robin, it certainly seems like you have to mend a few things here…'

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.

Next time the time stops for the Puck she is aware of the night. The teenager is not sleeping, that much she can see. He is lying wide awake, and tears are coursing down his face.

"I wish he just let me tell it," he mutters quietly.

'It's up to you to make him to listen,' the Puck replies, as she steps forth, lightly sitting down on the edge of his bed.

The boy starts, and his eyes widen.

'Who are you? We – I don't think we have girls at Welton.'

The Puck gives a mischievous smile. She expected this reaction of him.

'Hmmm… I'm Puck.' The girl's laughter rings through the otherwise silent room, and the boy sits up in his bed.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he demands quietly.

The Puck stifles another break of laughter. Suddenly, she feels as light and free as a real fairy.

'I'm here just to warn you. If you do what you're planning to, not only your life will be cut short.' That lightheaded feeling again,. And the Puck bursts out in gales of laughter.

The startled smile on the boy's face grows wider, and the Puck sees way too much of Alex Perry in this teenager.

'Now, then,' The girl cocks her head to look at the teen. 'Of course, you know that death is not the only exit for you right now.'

The boy's eyes widen.

"It's not?" His voice is soft and now he is sitting up, listening to the strange teen quite calmly sitting on the edge of his bed.

'Nope.' The girl is barely able to control gales of laughter threatening to burst forth.

'Actually, you have three choices. You can follow up with your plan. You can ran away. Or you can let your dad do what he wants with you.'

"That's only two choices," The boy corrects her. The unfamiliar girl in Welton coat looks at him curiously. "Either my initial choice or running away."

'Think about it,' the girl recommends, as she feels herself fading away. 'Okay?'

"What's there to think?" The boy shrugs, as he puts his clothes on. "I sorta decided I'd like to live a bit more."

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

The Puck watched in satisfaction as the tall teenager walked out of the dark house, with a light bag in his hands. Now she had succeeded – for now.

The teen glanced at her as she stood next to him for the last time.

"I think it's time for you to return to your own time, young lady," he teased lightly and quietly. "And thank you."

"You're welcome," the Puck replied.

And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

The teenager walked away from the house towards the rising dawn, as the whispery image of the dark-haired girl, the Puck, slowly disappeared in the first rays of sun.

"Hey, Chhris, so good of you to finally join us," light voice of Alex Perry is the first thing the girl hears as she comes back to her senses. The world around her turns on its axes, as Chris slowly drifts.

"N…Neil?" the girl asks softly, cautiously trying to sit up.

"Nope, not Neil, it's Alex, remember?" a warm hand now holding hers.

"Ohhh…" Chris is drifting, and she is forced to lie back down.

"You gave us all quite a scare, young lady, comes another familiar voice. A head with fair hair pops up next to her worried friend. This time, Chris does not make any mistakes – Nikkie Anderson is there. "WE go to that graveyard and find you there, cold out with a bullet in your side. Man, you scared the hell out of us, Miss Puck."

"C – caught the shooter?" Chris asks, trying to sound as coherent as she could, given her small realisation that she probably was drugged.

"Yeah." That's Amy, piping up in the general worried noise. "That man's been killing off the actors like a madman, each time picking a person with one same role and dropping them. A curse, indeed."

A brief snort of laughter coming from her brother, George. Chris finally manages to open her eyes and stare up at her friends. She notices that nearly all of the Society are there – but one.

"Where… where's John?" she finally asks.

Her friends exchange dark looks.

"You're not going to like that, Chris…" Alex mutters. "We found him spilling beans on the Society, right after you disappeared in the graveyard. So we went ahead and told the truth. Miss Johnes wasn't too pleased, that her star pupils were in the mess with the past, as she said, and Johnny was expelled. The rest of us were acknowledged as an open club. The least we could do at that point is to tell her that we'll take ten new members, but here we drew our line – we did not feel we were supposed to be known of about."

"Oh, boy," Chris whispers. "I'm only absent for one day and here you are, getting in trouble, huh?" The others cringe in apology. "I think I'll be able to work it out with the Headmaster…" she paused for a second, thinking of something. "Miss Richards's still in, though, isn't she?"

"Oh, yeah, she's still in," Rojer reassures her. "Of course, we all had our ears chewed out by her for nosing in the graveyard for trouble, but she's still here. Deciding on what play we're going to put on for our last year here."

Chris manages a weak smile.

"That's good. At least, we'll be able to play in one where there is no one to shoot the people after it."

The others laugh uneasily.

"All right, you lot, clear off," a commanding voice of the nurse hustles the Poets and Poetesses out of the hospital room, as Chris allows herself to fall asleep…