A/N: Sooo, here we are again! The Christmas decorations and preparations have started in Greece, the new year has already arrived in our story, which means...time for our heroes to go back to Yale! ;) Hope you enjoy the chapter, guys :)

The title is taken from BBC Sherlock's mini episode, "Many Happy Returns"

Disclaimer: I don't own the Dead Poets Society

"I glance into the faces of all these people out for a Sunday stroll, but I'm not seeing eyes and noses and mouths. I'm seeing stories. Every person has a story. All the hopes and dreams. And fears. And secrets. In every face."

(Andrew Clemens, "Things Hoped For")

Pitts's POV

Once Charlie had said that time passes much slower when you do things you don't like or when you're somewhere you absolutely detest. I didn't understand back then, thinking that it was one of Charlie's usual philosophies-wanna-be. The first time I realized how right he was had been the Christmas vacation when I was sixteen; listening to my father's rambling about how I had almost thrown away all my opportunities and how I had embarrassed him while having to deal with my grief over Neil's death had made said vacation a two-week-long horror that seemed like two centuries.

The second time was this Christmas vacation; listening to my father's rambling about my grades and how I should study harder and how he wouldn't tolerate another embarrassment from my side while having to deal with all my concerns and the insecurities that had been following me since adolescence had made said vacation a two-week-long horror that seemed like two centuries as well. Seriously, if it wasn't for my mother, who was always there for me in her own way, Meeksie and the rest of the Dead Poets, whom I called to see how they were doing, and Nellie, who called day by day (the other days it was my turn to call her), I would throw away my shyness and I would seriously plan some sort of revolution.

Which was why I could barely hold myself when the two centuries—er, the two weeks, I meant—were finally over and it was time for me to return to my dorm and my classes at Yale. I had left home pretty early, wanting to go away as soon as possible and when I arrived I didn't even have the patience to wait for Meeks or Nellie or even Virginia at the courtyard. I ran straight to the male students' dorms, yelled a cheerful "Happy New Year!" to the man standing at the doors in order to make sure that no girl would enter, ran upstairs to my dorm, unpacked my stuff as fast as I could and only then did I go outside to wait for my friends, sitting on a bench at a corner of the campus where we usually met.

The first to arrive was Meeks, of course; he lived quite near and, after talking on the phone yesterday, we had arranged to come here around the same time. I knew that his father didn't mind and that he was the one to drive my best friend here, really glad that at least one Dead Poet had an excellent relationship with his parents, without any pressure to follow this or the other occupation. In fact, Meeks had suggested I stay with him during vacation whenever there was trouble at home and that his parents wouldn't mind at all, on the contrary. Truth be told, I had felt the urge to leave around a zillionth times, but there was one main reason why I hadn't done it: the fact that my father would consider my mother responsible, even though she would be the last one to be blamed. Therefore, not wanting to put her in unnecessary trouble, I had postponed my leaving and tried to be patient.

What would have happened if Neil had run away that fateful night instead of ending his own life? Would his father get the message that his son had no interest in becoming a doctor, allowing him to follow his dream? Or would he stay the same, eventually still resulting in Neil's death? Damn it, the what-if's still didn't leave me alone, despite the two years that had passed; would we ever put these thoughts to rest or would they haunt us for a lifetime, a constant reminder of the still-existing scar that had replaced the open wound? Because, after the phone calls I had exchanged with my former classmates, I had reached the conclusion that I wasn't the only one who had these kind of restless thoughts; all of us had them, even those who would rather return to Hellton that admit it.

I would make the mistake to drift off and forget my happiness due to my return, but, thank God, Meeks approached me and greeted me with a pat on the back, which I immediately returned together with my wishes for a happy new year, forgetting anything negative for the moment and wearing my smile. My best friend looked around before turning towards me again, with his trademark witty smirk.

"So, did your luggage mysteriously disappear or is my guess that you've been here for quite a while correct?" he commented and I couldn't help but laugh. "Eager to stuck your nose back in our books, eh?"

Eager to go away from home, most likely, I thought as I nodded; not that I'd be able to fool Meeks, who knew exactly what was going on and how much my father smothered me. And so, without a verbal reply, he simply nodded back, patted my shoulder and rushed to our dorm to unpack his own things, saying that he'd be back soon so that we could wait for the girls.

Students of the different colleges arrived, caught up with friends, exchanged news about vacation, went to their dorms to rest, to the library to read or simply walked around the yard. Every single one of them with their own background, a story that had landed them at college and, quite possible, their own worries and dramas, small or bigger, the ones they shared with people they trusted and the ones they'd rather keep a secret.

I tried to land back to the present as I realized I was starting to think like Nellie. Being a huge fan of literature, she often spoke about the stories the world consists of, about history and about the ways the various authors gained their inspiration according to what they had lived, their deepest wishes and who knows what else. But, in the end, wasn't that similar to Mr. Keating's way of thinking?

"No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world."

You would have loved Mr. Keating's lessons, Nellie; and something tells me that you two would have had great conversations together.

Meeks and I didn't wait for long; about an hour later Nellie approached our bench with a bright smile, obviously happy to be back at the familiar and comfortable environment. She didn't carry any bags with her, meaning that she had arrived some time ago and had already settled in her dormitory. It was instinctive, but I couldn't help it; I smiled widely too, reminiscing about all the conversations we had had at vacation and especially the first one…when she called me by my first name for the first time. She always called me by my first name after that…would it be the case even now? Or was it due to the Christmas festivities and the joyous atmosphere and this would change now that we were back to college and our duties as students would begin again? Now we would be all together again, the two of us, Meeks and Virginia…and maybe she would be shy to use my first name in front of the others. Perhaps now she would go back to using my surname or my adolescence nickname again…I wouldn't mind, I wanted her to be comfortable, but, I had to admit, I had gotten used in her calling me 'Gerard' during the break.

But no matter what, she had stayed the same. Her hair was tied in a neat braid that fell on her back, her freckles were toned in the snowflakes that were falling around us, her smile was happy and sweet as always…and her eyes had that mature and somewhat sad look they always had, the same one that my own eyes had more than often, the sign that something had occurred in her past and still followed her, not allowing her to rest.

Carpe diem, Nellie…make your life extraordinary and don't let anyone take you down!

She embraced me, just like the day we departed for our homes; her hug was gentle and warm, just like then, and this time I didn't hesitate to return it, involuntarily pressing my hand on her back, but taking care not to suffocate her. How things had changed: at Welton I was completely silent at the (rare) sight of a girl, thinking I had nothing to say; and here I was, still a first-year in Yale, being close friends with two and feeling extremely comfortable with especially one of them.

"Happy New Year, Gerard," she said happily and I felt my face reddening as I smirked and instinctively hugged her even tighter; so it wasn't something spontaneous during the festivities and, as I had said during our phone call, it was long overdue since we had been friends for months. With the corner of my eye I spotted Meeks glancing up in surprise and smile in amusement at the sound of my first name coming from her and I knew that I wouldn't hear the end of it afterwards.

"Happy New Year, Nellie," I replied as I pulled back, lightly caressing her shoulder as she turned towards Meeks, who wasn't exactly into hugs and greeted her with a pat and a caress on the arm, which she returned. "Back again!"

"Finally, you can't believe how much I missed my courses and being here." Nellie commented. "How was your vacation, guys, did you have a good time?"

"Pretty good, yes; you know, family dinners, some studying, listening to the radio, catching up with friends from school." Meeks informed her as I nodded as a sign that my own Christmas break wasn't much different—leaving 'trying to tolerate my father' and 'barely keeping my composure' aside, but I wouldn't mention that. "And yourself?"

"Same here, the usual tedious family gatherings, studying and walks with my childhood friend and my little brother," at this answer Nellie sent a secret glance and a wink towards me, to which I replied with a wide smile, really happy that everything had gone well with the latter; I had realized that it was an issue that was paining her. "And if you have already made plans for Easter, cancel them, because I will need your help."

"Sure, Nellie, whatever you need; will you need some help to study for the semester exams or something?" I wanted to know, partially interested and partially concerned about what she could mean.

"No, no, nothing like that…No, no, I'm going to a wedding and I won't be able to handle it without as many familiar faces as possible."

"To a wedding? Don't tell me…you are getting married?" Meeks exclaimed.

My eyes surely became as wide as an owl's at these words; it couldn't be that Nellie, of all girls, was planning to get married in a few months. I knew very well her opinion on that matter, how she was strongly against marrying at eighteen—or nineteen in that case, since her birthday was on February—and especially getting married without love. And I knew too well that there was no one, absolutely no one who had captured her heart at this period, she would have told me.

At least I hope she would have trusted me enough to tell me.

"Me getting married? Seriously, Meeks, what have I done to deserve such an insult?" thank God, Nellie confirmed my thoughts at the next second. "Of course I'm not getting married, my friend Olivia is…and I'm the maid of honor, so I'm inviting you two…and Virginia, of course."

"Why not, it will be great, thanks, Nellie!" my extroverted best friend accepted at once before throwing me a side glance. "I mean, if your friend doesn't mind."

"Oh, no, she is completely fine with it; in fact, she practically told me I'm free to call whomever I want and some friendly faces except the bride and my family are more than welcome."

She smiled while talking, but it was that look again, which I had started to interpret, this There-is-more-behind-it-but-I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it look. Being friends with two girls who studied at college, and from some implies and comments here and there, I had realized that she wasn't on good terms with her father because of her choices—and surely her best friend's wedding would give Mr. Russell the opportunity to scold Nellie for wanting to become a lawyer instead of raising a family. It wouldn't even surprise me if Nellie announced us that her father already had a few potential suitors in mind. And no matter Nellie's determination to find her own way and not compromise to anyone's expectations about her, I guessed she needed us there, her friends from Yale, to give her courage amongst all those who would be invited and who would only see her as a good match for some lawyer or banker's son.

And who was I to deny her that; with a story like mine, struggling to find myself, having lost a friend forever because the world didn't allow him to follow his dream and seeing another friend being expelled from school because he dared to resist?

"Of course we'll come," I replied and gave her a warm smile. "It will be a good chance to meet during vacation too."

Her entire expression changed at the fact that we would all find her in Medford during Easter—because we all knew that Virginia would never decline the invitation—and she smiled brighter, almost with a hint of gratitude. Of course, I had no idea how on earth I would convince my father to attend a wedding, especially since I had been invited by someone he didn't know and a girl; he would start with his usual comments against me, that I brought disgrace to the family. Well, I could always ask my mother for help, surely she wouldn't say no and, besides, I still had enough time to make up a plan.

After a while, Meeks said he would go to the library to return a book he had borrowed, for one of our courses I couldn't even remember at the moment. It was our first day back, our first hours back and I wanted to enjoy the carefree moments with my friends before it would be time to go back to the lessons and the endless studying and writing down notes from our books—but right now I was so glad to finally be in Yale, that not even this seemed unpleasant to me.

"So, did you read anything good during Christmas?" Nellie wanted to know, smirking playfully; because, no matter how much I liked Mr. Keating's lessons and our secret meetings in the cave, sitting down and read literature was a recently-developed favorite activity of mine. "Got some new book?"

"No, not a new one…actually, I read a marvelous book, only that I've been reading in it since I was sixteen," I answered, wanting to give a somewhat mysterious tone in my voice. Talking about what had occurred in Welton was still difficult and painful for me, but this I could share with Nellie. "It's a book that…that connects poetry with various periods of our history," I added and Nellie's eyes widened at the statement. After all, poems were always open to any interpretation, from various point of views; the poets mentioned in Five Centuries of Verse weren't born at the same period of time…and Walt Whitman may have had Abraham Lincoln in mind when he wrote O Captain! My Captain!, but anyone who read this poem could have anyone in mind, exactly like a whole class of school boys didn't have Lincoln, but their favorite teacher in mind.

Of course, we were slightly more daring back then because no one in his right mind would dare address Nolan in that way; not to mention that he didn't deserve that title in the first place.

"And what about you?" I quickly returned the question before Nellie could ask more about the book. "Knowing you, you surely read a lot at Christmas."

"Well, my mom bought me Shakespeare's Hamlet; I've just started reading it, but it is wonderful, you should read it sometime," she informed me and now her whole face was shining, like it always shone whenever she talked about literature. "And Alexander gave me The Raven and Other Poems, a collection of some works of Edgar Allan Poe, I can't wait to start reading it; I never happened to read anything of Poe's until now."

"I've read The Raven...well, to tell you the truth, it's one of my favorites. But, after all, we read poetry because we are members of the human race," I said, remembering what Mr. Keating had told us in one of his classes…that Medicine, Law, Engineering are important to sustain life, but poetry, amongst others, was what we were staying alive for. Back then I was still the silent and somewhat obedient Pittsie, the one who got excited only at the prospect of building a radio and believed that reading poems was too boring. But the more things we learned with Mr. Keating and the more we met in the Indian cave, I had allowed the world of poetry to slip in my life before I could even realize it; not to mention that being able to hold such conversations with someone who was equally interested in the subject made everything only better. "Question is what our own verse will be."

She seemed to think about it for a moment and, when she looked back at me, her entire expression had changed: it was…not exactly melancholic, but it was the look of someone who was in deep thought and had just found the answer to a question troubling them for quite some time.

"Well, quoting Shakespeare, all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players," she said in the end with a small smile, as if said verse truly suited her, but still she wanted to search more about her ideal verse. "As for our own, personal verse…I guess I'm still looking for it."

"Aren't we all? After all, we're still young and have so many things to experience before finding our verse…if we ever find it."

The words sounded way more morbid than I wanted to; the only thing I meant was that our whole life still lay ahead and it was basically a quest that didn't end…because who said that learning and discovering had an ending point? Mr. Keating had said that you could be a true member of the Dead Poets Society after dying and that in life you only were a candidate…who said that this wasn't the case for life in general? Nellie seemed to understand what I wanted to say, though, because she nodded without commenting how pessimistic my reply sounded.

And by the way, why does it have to be a verse? I thought and, funnily, I had said the exact same thing in Welton, when Mr. Keating had assigned us to write our own poem and, in the end, my 'verse' was similar to Hopkins' 'The-cat-sat-on-the-mat'. Can't a motto, some meaningful words like 'Carpe Diem' also be considered as our personal motto if we stay true to it?

"And you, Gerard? What is your verse, even if it's temporary?" Nellie wanted to know and my mind travelled to everything I had lived until now, to all the verses I had read, to all the conversations we had had in the Indian cave before choosing the most fitting one.

"Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes," I said in the end because, really, from someone who strictly obeyed his father's orders and only wanted to improve his grades and go to college, my mind had opened and discovered new ways to interpret reality, new ways to act in my everyday life and new dreams I wanted to fulfill.

"Walt Whitman, Song of Myself," she smiled, recognizing the verse at once. "It suits you a lot."

"You think?"

"Well, you study Physics, but you're interested in literature and poetry and are willing to reach conclusions using a more metaphorical way of thinking…if that isn't cool before different universes, then what is?"

It was extraordinary, I couldn't find another word that suited better. Philosophical conversations with a girl I only knew for a couple of months with whom I felt so comfortable as if I'd known her for years. I didn't believe in fate and destiny and all that, but when I first came here to start classes, I hadn't imagined for a minute that I would find myself in this position…and here I was, not only in said position, but also having absolutely no problem with it.

"Life goes on" Charlie had said when he had called me during vacation and right now I completely believed it.

It was time to combine my two stories: the Hellton story and the Yale story…time to give Nellie a taste of what had played a cardinal role in my days as a teenager.

And so I started thinking about something else as Meeks returned from the library and we started talking and joking about Virginia being late and the hyperactivity she would surely greet us with. Something concerning Nellie and a special occasion on February and a specific black-covered book that was on top of my pile of books in my dormitory.

Nellie's POV

"In that and all things will we show our duty," I read aloud Cornelius Voltimand's comment as I sat on my bed in my warn dorm, back resting on my pillow. The boys had gone to their own dorm to get some rest from the journey and to prepare themselves for tomorrow's classes and I had decided to do the same. The books I would need for the two courses I had tomorrow were already in my college bag, together with my notebook, while another notebook was on my desk because Virginia wanted to read through them. Getting distracted from the masterpiece Hamlet was, I thought about to the days I had spent in Medford, about Alexander, about Olivia, about Gerard and Meeks, about Virginia, even about my fellow-student Garrett, whom I had seen on my way to my room and with whom I had exchanged a few words about Law School. All independent personalities with their own story and, yet, all of them a part of my life, playing a smaller or a larger role.

It felt good to be back in Yale, away from my father and his constant pestering that I should focus on raising a family and forget everything that had to do with Law. It reminded me how I was when I had gone to Medford for Christmas, how comfortable it was to be home because college was still a relatively new experience for me. Today, when I had stepped my feet on campus and seen my friends, I had felt the exact opposite: that Yale was the familiar place I loved to be and that back in Medford things were tough, as I struggled for my own rights.

Running steps echoed across the corridor outside and I couldn't help but smile: only Virginia Meadows would be so eager to return to college to make such a noise on the first day. Sometimes she reminded me of a hyperactive child with her enthusiasm, but after staying in a household where obedient silence and propriety ruled, it was exactly what I needed…and perhaps that was the reason why we immediately knew we would be friends and not only dorm mates.

"Nellieeeeeee!" she exclaimed now as she stormed in our room with a face that was red due to the cold outside and her running and her bags in her hands. She hastily threw them on her bed—Virginia never had a thing for tidiness—as I stood up and then hugged me so tightly that I momentarily thought I would suffocate. "Happy New Year, Nellie, how are you? Did you have a nice vacation? Everything okay at home, are there any news? Did you see the boys? How are they?"

"One question at a time, Ginny, and you'll learn the news," I burst out laughing; yes, right now I considered Yale my true home more than ever. "It was pretty good, you know, the usual family gatherings, some studying for college, a lot of reading…and my little brother has grown up."

"How old is he again?"

"Fifteen. So, did you have a good time?"

"Yes, I was so happy to see my mom again." Virginia replied and I became serious as I stared at her. Despite how strong she was, I could tell that her father abandoning them when she was a child was a permanent thorn in her life and I was really happy that she and her mother were so close. "And my aunt came to visit for a few days with my family, so I had to tolerate my good-for-nothing little cousins, the terrible twins who wreck havoc wherever they go!"

"Well, they have their big cousin who gives them the perfect example about said havoc! So, except your havoc-wrecking cousins, didn't you see anyone else? A Christmas romance, perhaps?" I teased her and both of us laughed, since Virginia had exactly the same opinion as I about relationships. At this thought, though, I smirked as I looked at my friend. "Of course, you never know…maybe you'll meet an Easter romance?"

"What? What do you mean?"

I briefly told her about Olivia's wedding and how I would be maid of honor. Of course Virginia said without second thought that she would be there no matter what, but it was obvious that something was on her mind, because she looked at me with that gaze of hers, like always when she wanted to criticize something. I had told her about Olivia's engagement before, but she hadn't commented it that much...probably because she had assumed that she would marry a couple of years later.

"Sorry, but…isn't your friend the same age as you? And she wants to marry at eighteen? With her whole life in front of her and—"

"It wasn't her choice, Virginia, her parents arranged everything with her fiancé's family. You know, the usual case for more wealth and developing their business. And Olivia always preferred to compromise to what her family wanted." I tried to explain…not that Virginia would ever excuse her; she would still say that Olivia would destroy her life. "And I've met her fiancé…they seem to get along pretty well together."

It was always one of my father's favorite arguments, the fact that I should be more like Olivia and not a 'rebellious, foolish little girl who did nothing but embarrass our family'…that I should be silent and obedient and a proper girl from a good family. But I never allowed this to come between Olivia's and my friendship, it wasn't her fault that my father kept comparing us. Since we were high school girls, Olivia had respected my decision to go to study and marry the one I'd choose, so who was I to judge her own choices or blame her that my father used those choices against me?

"In that and all things will we show our duty," I thought about the verse I read earlier in Hamlet and it seemed that this could be Olivia's personal verse, as she put her duty to her family above everything else.

"Even if they do get along together, Nellie, and even if they are happy as a married couple, being committed from such a young age…your friend will lose opportunities that way! She won't allow herself to discover other dreams she might have…but of course, the final choice is hers." Virginia concluded and started talking much calmer. "So, will you invite the boys too?" she wanted to know with a wink and an overexcited smile and who knew what mischief she was planning at the moment at the possibility of our two friends being present at an occasion like a wedding.

"I already have, I saw them before you arrived…and, guess what, both of them will come," I replied and she left a triumphant "Ha!", probably already thinking about how she would tease them about it when she would see them. "And, to tell you the truth, I'm really glad, because Thomas, that's the groom's name, told me that the best man has a…weird sense of humor that can sometimes be misunderstood."

"Oh, no, don't tell me that you will be stuck with a guy who considers himself a miracle of the world and who flirts with every female he sees." Virginia groaned, sharing my repulsion about this sort of people.

"That was my guess when I heard the description…and, although I can take care of myself, having two friends like Meeks and Gerard there will help me feel more comfortable—"

"Wait, wait, wait, Meeks and who?!" she shrieked, having completely forgotten her excitement about the fact that we'd see our friends at the wedding; I knew too well what had caught her attention and, therefore, looked innocently at her…because, after all, it was quite normal to start addressing my friend with his first name, right. "Nellie…what have I missed?"

"What have you missed?"

"What haven't you told me, girl?" she kept pestering me with that wicked smile of hers, reminding me much of Alexander and his 'secret admirer' comment, when he had picked up the phone and then teased me because it was Gerard who called. I started suspecting where this was going, but, determined not to show anything—because there was nothing going on—I continued playing as if I had no idea what she was talking about.

"What haven't I told you?" I asked, smiling slyly, clearly enjoying her dumbfounded expression, as if she was trying to solve some big mystery of the universe, combined with her I-know-more-than-you-think-I-do smile.

"Since when are you on a first-name basis with Pitts, huh? All this time he's been calling you with your name and you either use his last name or 'Pittsie'…what happened and you decided to return the first name, eh? You woke up one day and simply said 'Time to start calling Pitts with his first name' or something?" Virginia now could barely contain her amusement and, seriously, she was one step before laughing out loud.

"Since Christmas…and I didn't decide it, it was spontaneous and after that it came out automatically." I said and recalled my own surprise when I had realized the first-name mentioning during our first phone call and how normal it had seemed afterwards...in fact, Gerard himself had sounded way more surprised than I had. Afterwards, though, as more phone calls had followed, he had stopped gasping whenever I addressed him like that and soon it had become another stone in our friendship, another everyday occurrence.

"Well, well, well…seems that someone else got her Christmas romance," Ginny chuckled and winked towards me when I quickly denied it by shaking my head because there was no romance, why kept everyone tease me about that? "Okay, okay, I'm just kidding! After all, both you and I keep saying that romance will come in good time, right?"

"Right!"

But whether it would come or not, it was finally time for all of us to seize every day!

A/N: Ooookay, everyone, another chapter has come to an end, I really have no idea how on earth it ended up so long :P Anyway, until next time, dearies :D