THIRTY-ONE

Students and teachers were gathered in the assembly hall, to join in the requiem in Neil's honor. They were all singing the traditional hymn – all but Charlie, who was staring off into nothingness. His mind was a mess. He felt like his brain had been beaten, stepped on, eaten and thrown up. October's revelations kept on whirling in his head, but he was listening to them as if the recording was garbled. He couldn't really understand and give them a sense. Two things were quite clear, hence they stood out among the shambles: Neil was alive, so all of that crap was completely useless; and the woman he had learned to truly love had hallucinatory feelings. Feelings for someone else. Someone who didn't exist. She had lied to him because she had lied to herself in the first place. And was it any wonder? It was the same old story: he was not enough to be loved. He was simply destined to be never appreciated by anyone for his true self. He could do his best, but to no avail. It was a deadlock. At last, he could grasp the meaning of Todd's impromptu poem: truth was like a blanket. He could push it, stretch it, it would never cover him completely.

Inferior.

Fuck.

Inadequate.

Fuck.

Unworthy.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wished he could catch up with Neil God-knew-where and forget it all.

"... Amen" they closed the hymn, as he closed his eyes.

"The death of Neil Perry is a tragedy" the headmaster began, and they all sat. Charlie noticed that Mr. Keating was keeping his eyes in front of him, looking overall mournful. Poor fellow. If he could only know... "He was a fine student. One of Welton's best. And he will be missed." The man paused briefly. "We've contacted each of your parents to explain the situation. Naturally, they're all quite concerned."

At that point, Mr. Nolan pierced the whole crowd with his malevolent stare, and the tone of his speech changed significantly. He looked enraged. But Charlie knew better. He wasn't missing Neil, he wasn't heartbroken for him. He was just concerned about the academy's reputation.

"Word has reached my ears of a presumptive accomplice in Neil Perry's extreme act. At the request of Neil's family, I intend to conduct a thorough inquiry into this matter." He paused again and managed to make his following words sound like a threat. "Your complete cooperation is expected."

October couldn't find any peace. She had sworn to herself long before she would never cry for a man, let alone get involved in a relationship. She had done both. And, at the moment, she was basically digging a groove in the floor of her room by pacing it back and forth, twisting her hands in distress. She couldn't believe she had been able to go on that crazy journey in the past, meet her beloved Poets for real, bond with them until she had become part of the group, save a boy's life and change the course of events, meet the love of her life, feel at home for the first time after years and then lose it all. But probably it was just a matter of time. Charlie would get over the whole situation. His completely wrong deduction was just a reaction to all that weight on his shoulders. He knew she loved him. He had to.

With the first pebble hitting her window, October's features lit up and she rushed to the sill, thinking he'd been fast, after all. She opened the window and stuck out beaming, but it wasn't Charlie. Her eyes went wide.

"Richard?"

The red-haired boy looked up at her with two deep pools of dismay. He seemed on the verge of falling apart.

"Hey, I... Sorry, but... October, I need you."

The attic was full of empty luggage waiting for the end of terms to be collected back. Hiding in the dim light, the Poets were sitting in a circle, sad and worried at the same time, each of them holding a cigarette between nervous fingers.

"You told him about this meeting?" Charlie asked hopelessly.

"Twice" Meeks confirmed in the same skeptical tone.

"That's it, guys. We're all fried" Charlie stated with a bitter half-smile.

"How do you mean?" Pitts asked. Charlie blew out a puff of smoke before elaborating, every single word full of anger.

"Cameron's a fink. He's in Nolan's office right now, finking" Charlie spat. He was so fed up, so enraged, so defeated...

"About what?"

"The club, Pittsie. Think about it. The board of directors, the trustees and Mr. Nolan" he counted on the fingers of his hand. "Do you think for one moment they're gonna let this thing just blow over? Schools go down because of things like this" he explained looking them in the eye, one by one. "They need a scapegoat."

Elbows propped on the table, Cameron was holding his head between his hands, a steaming cup of hot tea forgotten beside him. October took a concerned look at him. He had just finished telling her about Mr. Nolan's decision to investigate, and then he had closed himself off. She still didn't know why he had searched for her, though she might have a faint idea. After all, she knew about the future events. Was that another change? Could she fix that, too?

She put a hand on his arm to comfort him.

"Listen, Richard..."

"You have to help me, Tobie. Please."

"Okay, but how? Why?"

Cameron sniffed. It took some minutes before he could speak again.

"I like rules. I love them. They're a way to be prepared for things about to happen. They're a way to contain any potential collateral damage. If everybody followed the rules, the world would be a better place. No murders, no kidnappings, just to name a few. Rules are made for a better existence. I can't understand why the others can't get that."

October gave a maternal smile and opened her mouth to intervene, but Cameron went on.

"They... They don't understand rules and my approval for them. They don't understand me. They hate me."

"Come on, Richard, they don't hate you..."

"I'm not here to listen to the fairy tale in which they don't, Tobie, because they do" he abruptly cut her off, sitting upright. October gulped, and waited for him to elaborate.

"They've always considered me to be the different one. I know that. I also know that I'd be better off with people like me. But..." He paused to give off a snort. "God help me, I like their company. I like being part of their group. I like the... Because of my other side, you know? We all have more than one side, right? Including them. A side you wouldn't expect. Meeks is a whiz, but he's fascinating. Pitts is a joker, but he's caring. Todd is shy, but also daring. Knox is a romantic, but not a doormat. Charlie is reckless, but righteous as well. And Neil..." He grimaced. "Neil was headstrong, but clearly too fragile. He didn't deserve to die."

Fat tears began to stream down his cheeks. While a part of October felt guilty about the truth to be kept in the dark, another part was utterly dumbstruck. She stared as the boy wiped his liquid grief with the back of his hand, grimacing and swallowing in an attempt not to break down. Cameron allowed himself some seconds to calm down, his voice steadier when he spoke again.

"I'm almost the overly obedient bootlicker they all think I am. Almost. And I'm happy with that. But there's a tiny part of me who enjoys having fun. Who enjoys being carefree and ignoring the watchdogs once in a while. To relieve tension, you know? It's just that I would never start a secret society on my own, because it would never cross my mind! I'm not that complicated. I've just been raised to be a perfect son and an excellent student. I love studying. What's wrong with that? And I don't like being blamed, is there something bad in that? Nobody likes that. Nobody likes punishments. I'd avoid them at all costs, that's why I usually abide by the rules. I don't like losing my achievements and my reputation. And I love when people are proud of me."

October was impressed. She had never heard him talking like that before. But wasn't that the exact confirmation of what he was saying? Don't we all have hidden and unexpected layers? Layers that wouldn't be so unforeseen if we could just bother to take our time to listen to people unprejudicedly?

"That... That makes perfect sense, Richard."

"Thanks."

Cameron sipped his lukewarm tea, then he stared at the table as if he was pondering something. The tone of his voice was lower when he resumed his speech.

"Life was easier before Mr. Keating's arrival. A prank here, a getaway there, and that was it. Harmless routine. And then he arrived, and put us up to all those ideas... Marvelous, powerful, limitless ideas, I own that... But still ideas. They had to stay that way. Because ideas can be dangerous if they fall into the wrong hands. I don't want to say that ideas can't be good for the world, I do believe they could be, but the grim reality is that our friend is six feet under because of those ideas, Tobie. I have nothing against Mr. Keating, but these are facts. Till last year, everything was okay. So I can safely assume Mr. Keating is the turning point. What if he indirectly but actually pushed Neil beyond his limits? He would be guilty then. So why shouldn't I be ethically correct and report him?"

For a split second, October felt incapable of rebutting the impeccable logic of that speech.

"It's not his fault, Richard, Neil was fit to plead. Your teacher's job..."

"Why should I care about him or his career?" he interjected. "He's nothing to me. My parents matter. My friends. Myself. Mr. Nolan and his henchmen won't stop till they find the fall guy. And be sure they will hunt us down. They already know about the Society, because that dumbass "Nuwanda" has trumpeted its existence. They all know we were Neil's friends. So we will be the first to be questioned. And I'll be the first of all, because I'm that model student. I don't want to go against the system. There's something called an honor code at that school, and if a teacher asks you a question, you tell the truth or you're expelled. I don't want to be expelled, Tobie."

She took a deep breath and run a hand through her hair. Pulse and thoughts racing, the whole situation gave her the impression of being at a crossroads.

"Of course not. But what exactly are you telling me? That you are going to spit it all out? What kind of help do you want from me?"

Cameron looked her dead in the eye, a forlorn expression on his face.

"Tell me why I should go against my nature. Spell out why I should save the ass of people who hate me. Help me find a single reason to shut up."

October stared at him in amazement. So she was what he needed not to fink. She was the missing piece of it all. The responsibility on her shoulders was gigantic to say the least. The wrong advice would completely jeopardize the opportunity to change their ending.

"What... What about the school paper?" she stuttered to buy time. "When the existence of the Society came to light, you didn't say a word. You didn't rat Charlie out."

"That was different" Cameron retorted. "There were no dead in the way. And, in all honesty, nobody came to ask me a straight question."

October sighed and glossed over the implication of that last statement, trying to stay focused on the main issue.

"Well... The mere fact you're here means you have some doubts at least, don't you think?"

The boy in front of her nodded in trepidation.

"So it's up to you to understand where those doubts come from. To tell the truth, I don't completely agree with your reasoning, but I can't argue either. Anyway, this is not the point."

Cameron held his breath, expectantly waiting for the answers he was searching for.

"Are you really sure you don't care about Mr. Keating? Even so, are you really sure you won't feel awful, knowing you ruined a man's career? And would you bank on his responsibility for Neil's actions?"

Cameron shook his head almost in agony, hands gripping his hair.

"I don't know, Tobie, I don't know... I can't..."

"Okay, let's focus on something else then" she changed tack, resting a reassuring hand on his knee. She bit her bottom lip, feeling more and more powerless. Could she really fight for something not up to her?

"You care about your friends, don't you?"

"Yes..."

"Great. What if those ideas helped them in some way? What if they improved themselves thanks to Mr. Keating? And what would they say if you report one of the most supportive teachers you've ever had?"

He didn't answer right away.

"But they..."

"I don't think they hate you, Richard, but it's true you're all very different from each other. In my opinion, if you stand next to them and not to the teachers for once, they could start to see you in a different light, and... Maybe acknowledge your other side" she finished with a tiny smile.

The boy opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought twice and closed his eyes in anguish. He seemed about to have a meltdown. She then knew that was the crucial moment for a last-ditch effort.

"Look, I understand your overall view of things and, in this specific case, the worst outcome is getting expelled or chastised, right? But I think your reputation can save you. It seems unlikely that your headmaster would come down on you. Plus, if you guys keep all your mouths shut, you won't be punished. They don't know anything, they can't blame you for anything. It's quite simple. But the matter here is your own morals. Your own nature. So, if you knew for sure you wouldn't be expelled, would you be able to face authorities and be quiet about the whole situation in the name of friendship? That's the point. See, I'm not the one who can help you. You are."

A pensive silence stretched out between them. She stood up hiding her apprehension and put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture, then she left the room to let him take his time, praying with every fiber of her being.

Charlie was lying on his bed, smoking like a chimney. Cameron didn't show up and was nowhere to be found. His blood was boiling. In addition to all the crap he had been forced to eat in the last hours, there were the secret about Neil he had to keep from the others and Cameron's guaranteed betrayal. He didn't remember such a catastrophic period in his whole life. After the play, the bombshell had been dropped and, since then, everything had been falling apart. He felt so helpless. Nothing was under his control. He didn't know how to fix things and take them back to a semblance of normalcy. And, above all, there was his shattered heart. Neil and October, October and Neil. Both alive, both gone.

He would never see one of his best friends again. Was that so different from death? He grimaced, feeling blasphemous. But still and all, Neil was somewhere he would never go back from, period. Was it of any use to keep on pining for something so irremediable? Furthermore, Neil was in a happy place. He was living the life he had always desired. At least, he hoped so. The goal of that whole mess was precisely his friend's peace of mind, wasn't it? So he had to stop wringing his hands, especially when he had a more tangible issue to worry about.

Soon, quick flashes of his relationship with October started to slap his bruised brain. How was it possible that he had made it all up? How was it possible that there was nothing true in what they had shared? Was it all just a huge lie? He refused to believe that. No. Hell no. But still, the facts... And then something began to nag at the back of his mind. Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. Dammit. Well, Keating was always right, wasn't he? Too easy to listen to him only within the four walls of the classroom. He should give him credit in dark times and real life as well. So he closed his eyes, trying to calm down and mull it all over objectively. He focused on the sound of his breath, on the familiar tobacco scent that was tickling his nostrils, on the textured surface of the bedcover under his fingers.

Thinking back, he had offended her. Hurt her. She had always been there for him, and he was turning his back to her. The mere fact she was there meant that what she knew about the... Plot – bloody hell, how hard it was to consider his life that way? – had been screwed up. They had interacted from scratch. So what she had seen was another version of him. He had added details to the sketch she had, he had opened up his mind and his heart, giving her the chance to know him for real, to develop feelings for his true self. Stating that she was in love with an abstract concept had been a deep underestimation of her intellect, let alone her emotions. She had always been genuine. And she had fallen for him drop by drop, just like him. If anything, she'd had time to get to know him for longer than the other way around. Even if that was a fictional character at the beginning. Man, he had fallen for her in what, five minutes? Was she really the one to blame? Not to mention the struggle she'd surely had to bear right after her arrival. Alone. While he was not. What a selfish piece of shit he was...

Charlie's eyes snapped open. He couldn't do anything about Neil, the time travel, the parallel universe, the investigation, the omission and the finking, but he could do something about her. About them.

He jerked up, stepping on the cigarette butt that had tumbled on the floor, and dashed towards the door.

October hugged Cameron on the threshold. At that point, she could only hope their conversation had been worthy.

"Thanks, Tobie" the boy murmured, sounding quite relieved. "You're probably the only true friend I have."

"Don't say that" she admonished. "You have a lot of friends. And don't thank me. Thank yourself."

Cameron gave a half-smile.

"Do you remember when I said you're not that bad? I meant it."

She grinned.

"You're not that bad either, Richard. Keep it in mind."

They smiled at each other, when their attention was caught by some footsteps approaching.

All the way to the guesthouse, Charlie only had one thought in mind and the pieces of his broken heart in his hands. He would give her those pieces to put back together. He needed to apologize, she needed to know that any hurting word slipped out of his mouth was due to his rage, desperation and confusion and, on the other hand, any love-related word was meant. She was not a teen whim. And he was not a time-killer, he knew that. They were meant to be. Maybe that was the real purpose of her arrival, not only Neil's life. He would have never met the woman of his dreams in his world, and the same went for her. He had to tell her and...

And yet, despite his good intentions, when he turned around the corner and he spotted some red hair, the same color completely coated his vision and rationality. Something snapped in his brain. The jumble of wrath, helplessness and collapse of certainties hit the breaking point, smashing every coherent thought. Neil was alive, but gone for good. Science, philosophy, reality itself were rubbish. The Poets were risking expulsion. He himself had to be a liar. Cameron was in all likelihood a traitor. And his filthy hands were near his woman.

He dashed towards the two like a maddened ram. He vaguely registered the two heads turning towards him, and their alarmed expressions. He barely heard October screaming his name while his fist was already rising in the air as if it had a mind of its own. He never really saw Cameron's lips changing their shape from a surprised O to a thin line, matching his closing eyes.

His knuckles crashed into Cameron's nose. He felt his skin split and the cartilage squash. A spurt of blood painted their flesh. Cameron fell backward and Charlie lunged at him, ready to straddle his hips and keep on punching his face, but October threw herself in between the two, yelling. She felt the pressure of his weight on her and stumbled trying to overcome him and block his arms, but the adrenaline rushing through his body made him way stronger.

"Charlie! Charlie, stop! Look at me, look at me! Stop it!"

Charlie's eyes were dark and hollow. His gaze was relentlessly pointed at the curled-up boy on the ground. He wrestled in October's arms, unable to come to his senses.

"Charlie, please!"

An elbow accidentally hit her and she shrieked. The sound leached into his daze and he stopped dead, suddenly looking horrified.

Seizing the opportunity, October crouched beside Cameron while rubbing her injured part, asking about his condition. She helped him stand under Charlie's shocked stare, then she wrapped an arm around his waist and grabbed the other boy's arm, dragging both inside the guesthouse.

Charlie followed her by inertia, feeling every bit like an empty puppet, and stood lifeless while October shoved Cameron down on the sofa, then forced him up the stairs to her room and onto her bed. She quickly fetched a strip of toilet paper from the bathroom and wrapped it up around his wounded knuckles.

"You wait for me here" she firmly instructed, even though Charlie had no strength to do anything but be completely still, engulfed in his anguish, his pupils once more off into nothingness.

October hastened back downstairs, retrieved a wet cloth and took care of Cameron as best as she could, then she sent him back to the academy after his refusal to go to the hospital. When alone, she rested her forehead on a hand, feeling overall drained but clear-headed as well. So it had to be that way. The punch was something bound to be in any case. Neil was bound to go for good. Thus, Charlie and Keating's fates were probably written. Even changing small things, she couldn't alter the gist of events. She had once read something about the Novikov self-consistency principle, according to which the past is immutable: history is meant to be predestined and events cannot change, but rather they will end up being fulfilled. In her case, she had fulfilled her role in creating events as they actually – or similarly – unfolded, although through different paths: was that a variation of the predestination paradox? And how could she know? Novikov would theorize that principle only in the Eighties...

She sighed, exhausted, then dragged herself to her room, where she found Charlie in the exact same position she had left him. She looked at him unarmed for a while, before he became aware of her presence. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and they just stared at each other, mutually reading their inner pages.

I beat another person in front of you.

You were mad.

I hurt you.

So did I.

With my gestures.

With my choices.

With my words.

Emotionally.

Physically.

It doesn't matter anymore.

I turned my back on you.

You're here now.

I don't deserve you.

Shut up.

Please...

"... Forgive me" Charlie murmured in the end, and she dashed, falling on her knees in front of him. He slid from the bed to the floor into her arms, sinking in her tight embrace, whispering those words over and over.

"Forgive me, forgive me..."

"It's okay, it's okay..." she kept on saying, stroking his hair. They crashed the two sentences on each other, blending them with their dire kisses. It felt like ages since the last time. They got rid of their clothes with shaking hands and then buried their distress in their bodies, healing their wounds with every thrust, every touch, every mutual plea.

"Don't leave me."

"I won't."

A/N: Hello everybody, did you miss me? No? Well, I did ^^ And as I said (did I? Well, I'm doing it now), I couldn't bank on quick updates but, as I also promised (did I? Well, I'm doing it now), this fic will be completed, trust my word. I just don't know when.

So, let's delve into some notes, shall we?

First thing first, as you can see, Cameron is not the real villain in this story. I'll let Nolan be. I think there are quite a lot of moments (here and in the movie as well) where Richard shows concerns, humanity, even loyalty. I just think he makes choices and has priorities. I don't agree with him in the movie of course, but I tried to understand the reasons behind his actions and to explain them in this chapter: I hope I succeeded in that, and also in redeeming him a bit, without altering his beliefs and character, for coherence's sake. Truth is, Charlie punched him anyway, so will he still fink? I guess you'll have to wait for that.

This should be clear by now, but I'll put it in black and white: according to my personal (and scarce) cinematographic and literary experience, you cannot really alter future events. Or, better said, yes-but-no. It would be funny to find out to what extent this may be true, but we'll never know, right? Anyway, what I'm trying to do in this fic is to keep the movie main events (and characters) the way they are. I hope I'm succeeding.

I won't dwell on Igor Dmitrievič Novikov's studies - they are as engaging as they are complex - but, if you're interested, you can find more information on "Novikov self-consistency principle" page on the renowned free encyclopedia.

Still a few more chapters to go before the end, guys, and I hope the hard core fans will stay with this fic till the end :)

Lastly, a big thank you to shamballaaax for following my work :)