"Anderson, Cameron, Dalton, Meeks, Overstreet, Pitts."

That was the way it had started. And, at the moment, the remaining Poets were all standing in front of the headmaster's desk, their hands behind their backs, waiting for their potential sentence. The last time Charlie had been there, Nolan had unleashed his sadism in all its power. Shouldn't it have been punishable by law? Once again, he found himself dreaming of a world without corporal punishment. How medieval. How brutal. How ignorant. But it was going to change, she had said so, hadn't she? He cast a glance at the desk and clenched his jaw. His pupils then steered towards Cameron. He hadn't had any occasion to talk to him yet and October had refused to explain why he was at her place, so he was still in the dark about the timeline and his reasons. Cameron was at the guesthouse: why? Had he had the time to rat them out before going there? Was he then confessing his betrayal to her? If not, was that summons just part of the forewarned general investigation? Or did Nolan know something? If so, how?

The headmaster was smoking, relaxed and almost gloating. He suddenly seemed to regain at least a semblance of gravity and fake grief, so he put his pipe aside and started fiddling with some folded sheets of paper.

"Gentlemen, I think we've pretty well put together what's happened here. You do admit to being a part of this Dead Poets Society?" he asked head-on.

No one dared to move. They almost stopped breathing all at once, as if they were one whole terrified soul, trying to keep their faces blank. Charlie dreaded their hearts could be heard echoing in the room. He felt his blood rumble in his ears while in expectation of Cameron's voice, which would surely come out. But it didn't. It didn't. The seconds passed by, then a full minute. Mr. Nolan gritted his teeth. Damned filthy pests.

"The night Neil Perry took his own life, a meeting was held in the Indian Cave nearby, and there's no reason to believe it was the first and only one. Most of you were there. And Mr. Keating as well. And girls, and alcohol. It's pointless to lie, sons. Thoreau's verses. Mr. Keating's yearbook. The recent article in the school newspaper." His eyes jerked briefly towards Charlie. "If you think for a second I'm a fool, think again."

A drop of cold sweat ran down Charlie's back. How the hell did he know? They were screwed, thoroughly screwed.

"Mr. Cameron" the man called. Charlie flinched, then checked out his roommate's reaction with the corner of his eye, but the red-haired boy kept both his back and stare straight. Screwed... "I know you were not there. I summoned you because maybe you heard something about these meetings over the last few months. I kindly ask you to speak if in possession of such information."

Relying on Cameron's sycophancy. How formulaic.

The time became a huge, ghastly elastic band, extending at full stretch. Cameron's Adam's apple went up, then down. Charlie started to count in his mind. One... Two... Three...

"No, sir. I would be more than glad to share my knowledge with you, but I don't know anything about that. I'm truly sorry, sir."

Charlie's mind short-circuited, but he didn't dare to move. Cameron hadn't ratted them out... How... How...

Mr. Nolan inhaled deeply.

"May I ask you how you broke your nose?"

Cameron gave a sideways look at Charlie, who did the same, his throat throbbing.

"I tripped and hit the desk in my room, sir."

The headmaster furrowed his brow. Charlie felt completely numb. That was unprecedented..."

I believe you, Mr. Cameron. You may go."

"Thank you, sir."

Cameron bowed and left the room. The headmaster sized up the remaining boys, then put his glasses on. The shock blurred Charlie's vision and it took a while for him to retune into the man's voice.

"I drafted a description of what most likely occurred at your meetings. I easily filled in the blanks: your teacher, Mr. Keating, encouraged you boys to organize this club and to use it as a source of inspiration for reckless and self-indulgent behavior. He, both in and out of the classroom, encouraged Neil Perry to follow his obsession with acting when he knew all along it was against the explicit order of Neil's parents. It was Mr. Keating's blatant abuse of his position as a teacher that led directly to Neil Perry's death. I still want to believe neither he nor one of you helped the poor boy take his own life, but an investigation into this must be conducted, too. Unfortunately" he bitterly spat, "this is a matter only the police can take care of."

Of course. What a pity he couldn't abuse his power yet again.

He took his glasses off, stared at the scholars, then handed five identical paper sheets out to them.

"If you've nothing to add or amend, sign them."Once more, time turned into something different, pressing, solid.

Once more, no one moved. Charlie had no doubt he wouldn't sign it, even if the others did. It was not a problem for him to declare he was part of the club, but that document was a clear conviction to the detriment of Mr. Keating. He would die before signing it.

All of a sudden, the door opened wide and Mr. Keating himself entered. Mr. Nolan sprang to his feet.

"Gentlemen" the teacher politely greeted.

"Mr. Keating! How dare you violate a private room? You'll..."

"I'm positive you already know what the end of this will be, Gale, so I don't think this trespassing can really add anything to my record" the man cut it off. "I'm here just to let you know that you don't need these boys' signatures. I'm here, willing to sign whatever dossier you need me to. Neil and the theater, the meetings, the article. It's been my fault. I knew nothing about his suicidal tendencies and I would have never helped him with such a thing." He paused and grimaced. His voice was croaky when he spoke again. "I would have taken care of him, had I known. So, I'm innocent regarding that part. But I'm guilty about the rest."

"No!" Charlie shouted. What the teacher was about to do had dawned on him. He could not let it happen. "Mr. Keating, you..."

"Be quiet, Charlie, everything is okay" the teacher exhorted calmly.

"But..."

"Keep that snout shut, Mr. Dalton, your academic career is already at stake! Gentlemen, you're all dismissed."

The boys filed wordlessly outside the office. Charlie stood still on the spot for a little while yet, his chest heaving, his nails dug into his palms, reluctant to yield and follow the others. He took a few steps then halted, lingering with his hand on the doorknob, his eyes filled with frustration. His pupils met Mr. Keating's, whose sad smile was oddly encouraging. He steered his stare towards Mr. Nolan, who looked almost obscenely psyched up. He had finally achieved the goal he had set himself from the beginning. Charlie felt the offhand compulsion to break the old man's face, but his eyes locked with Keating's again. The teacher's features were soft, fatherly. He was sacrificing himself for them. Violence out of rage would be like spitting on him. Charlie put a hand on his heart and bowed his head in Mr. Keating's direction without giving the headmaster a second look, then left the room as well.

When they found Cameron waiting for them outside the room with crossed arms, his back against the opposite wall, the Poets all awkwardly thanked him and disappeared along the corridor.

All but Charlie.

"Mr. Keating! Mr. Keating!"

"Mr. Cameron?"

The teacher watched with furrowed brow the boy in front of him panting, hands on his thighs, his head lowered. He had never seen him so devoid of his usual poise. When Cameron raised his irides, he knew something was off.

"Richard, what's wrong?"

Cameron closed his eyes for a moment, his conscience screaming in his mind before losing the battle. So he opened them up again and spilled what was happening in Nolan's office. Awareness segued into determination on the teacher's face as he stood.

"Let's go."

"John."

"Gale."

The two men examined each other as if they were waiting for the first gunshot.

"I exhorted you to restrict yourself to only preparing the students for college, John. You didn't heed me and here you have the result." The headmaster tangled his fingers, resting his hands on the desk, and pierced his opponent with his stare. "Meeting in a cave with boys and girls. I thought you were smarter than this."

John Keating took a deep breath.

"Maybe you're right. And I've been altogether aware of your monition. What eludes me is how you know about that."

A wicked grin grew wider and wider on the older man's face.

"You should pay more attention to the potential presence of witnesses who prowl near an open entrance. Don't you think, John?"

"Cameron."

"Dalton."

The two boys examined each other as if they were waiting for the first gunshot.

"I thought you were going to fink."

Cameron took a moment before replying.

"I know. I was about to. But, in all fairness, October made me ponder". His roommate pierced him with his stare. "Mind, it doesn't mean my personality changed overnight. But she's a good adviser. An even better friend. And a great woman."

A tiny smile blossomed on Charlie's face.

"I know."

A sigh heaved Cameron's chest.

"Apparently Pitts was right when he said that all the good ones go for jerks. You don't deserve her."

Charlie swallowed. It was pointless to retort. Cameron had just saved their asses. And he was fucking right about October.

"I know."

He lowered his stare, then raised it again and focused on Cameron's nose.

"I'm sorry for the punch. I have... I just... Sorry."

"It's okay" Cameron minimized, uncrossing his arms and pulling himself away from the wall. "Maybe one day I'll be able to give it back to you?"

A hearty laugh burst out of Charlie as the other boy started walking away, a genuine half-smile curling his lips as well.

"Cameron?"

The called-on boy stopped and slightly turned his head to let him know he was listening.

"Why?"

He didn't need to specify what he was talking about. Cameron seemed to consider the question and it took a bit before he finally met his roommate's eyes.

"I seized my day."

A/N: Aaand here we are! I hope you're still there, though covered in cobwebs :D

Let's see what I can say about this chapter: Nolan's lines are a mix of what he actually says in the movie when forcing Todd to sign the paper and also some of the sentences that you can read on the same paper if you pay enough attention. Of course, Nolan was the mysterious figure outside the cave (who else?). And I love the idea of these two guys finding some kind of a truce: will it last?

I have one more chapter and an epilogue before bidding farewell to you all, so, who knows, maybe I'll find you patiently waiting :) In order to do this, here's a huge bucket of popcorn for you, especially for AnAlivePoet, baochautang2009, beginningofsuffering, Lady Shalpha, Raenie and for following my work and/or for adding my story to their list of favorites :) (Apparently, I lost some notification, did I?)