AN: A fun chapter, because they deserve some downtime before the next pile of shit hits the fan. Leave a comment in the little box below if you'd like. I love feedback!

Do You Recall

XXVI: Lay It Down

After an abundance of not so subtle hinting and a wee bit of complaining that it was Christmas, even if it was technically only the twenty-fourth, Elena convinced Dean to do at least one touristy thing before they left the city.

So they went on the Chicago Favorites Food Tour in the name of the season. It included the best of their hot dogs, pizza, beers, and confections (which was the only reason Elena and Sam got Dean to go), as well as, among other things, a sight of Millennium Park.

This was the main reason she wanted to go on the tour. The brothers enjoyed the band playing on the stage of the Jay Pritzker Pavilion, and she was happy to see them both looking relaxed for once. Content even. She really knew it was a good idea by the smile Dean gave her as they walked away from the band's finished set. He slipped his hand into hers and surprised her with a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

He normally wasn't big on public displays of affection (something she found mildly surprising, considering it was Dean), so she smiled through her blush. Unknown to both of them was Sam's discreet smile. If for just a little while, his brother and his best friend had the time to be happy.

I wonder how Sarah's doing.

The thought came randomly, but also brought a pang of guilt. He hadn't called her in nearly a month (though he did make the promised call a couple days after their…sort of date). And then more guilt, because thinking of Sarah also made him think of Ruby.

That's different, he told himself. That was different.

What they were doing, it wasn't for romance or anything close. It was for the power. His power.

But the guilt remained.

So he let the couple walk ahead of him toward the center of Lurie Garden, and he lingered by the tall trees, suddenly feeling just as large and somewhat misplaced amongst all the flowerbeds.

Dean watched Elena tuck her scarf more securely around her neck as she stooped in front of a patch of purple flowers. They grew on long stems and looked a bit like reed grass. Hell if he knew anything about plants, but she seemed to be enjoying herself, at least.

She glanced around before picking a stalk out of the ground.

"I'm pretty sure that's not allowed."

Elena jumped at Dean's smooth voice in her ear. He took advantage of her surprise by sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her warmly against his chest, his broad shoulders shielding her from the winter wind.

"Pretty sure we weren't allowed to sneak into the tour without paying either," she pointed out with a grin, and twirled the flower stem between her fingers as she admired the deep purple hues in the petals.

"True," he said in agreement and laid his chin on her shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam staring up at the beech trees with a pensive look on his face, hands in his pockets. And then there was something being teased under Dean's nose and he nearly sneezed while jerking his head away from it.

He met the laughter in Elena's eyes with a raised brow, and finally she couldn't hold it in anymore. The disgruntled look on his face was priceless.

"What're you thinking about?" she asked when she calmed down. He'd just passed up a perfect opportunity for retaliation.

"Nothing."

Just that his brother was hiding something, as usual. And maybe Elena knew something that had to do with what Castiel told him before the whole Chuck thing. Right now wasn't the time to bring it up though.

She scoffed a little.

"Yeah, okay."

Elena had a feeling she knew what he was thinking about, so she didn't press it. That wasn't a conversation she felt like having either.

"Listen, uh…I've been thinking." He started to shift them from side to side a little as the wind began to kick up again.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't we go to Bobby's for Christmas?"

Elena hand to lean back slightly to look over at him, and met his gaze with a hesitant (hopeful) smile.

"Really?" she asked. "…You mean it?"

"Yeah," he smiled back. "Who says we have to work holidays?"

Her smile broadened, lightening her eyes.

"I like that idea."

"Yeah. Figured you would," Dean nodded, and gave into the temptation to kiss her. He felt her chilled hand on his cheek and noticed the coldness of her lips.

"Why don't we get back to Streeterville and get somethin' to warm up," he said. "I'm freezing my ass off out here."

"Need a little hot chocolate?" she teased, and brushed his cheek with the flower as her hand came to rest over his. He gave her a mocking look, to which she grinned and kissed his cheek.

"'S that your way of saying I'm 'cold as ice?'" she grinned.

"If you start singing Foreigner, I'm dumping your ass here."

"Aw, come on. What'cha got against Foreigner?"

"Another pop-rock wannabe, that's what."

Elena sighed and shook her head.

"I swear to God, Dean. We need to broaden your tape collection."

"Don't even joke."

"I will make you a mix tape," she threatened. He rolled his eyes.

"I'll toss it out the window."

She scoffed.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna bet?"

"Do I really have to remind you about the pie incident?"

"Funny, I remember winning that in the end."

Elena paused, remembering, until her eyes slid up to his. Seeing the grin on his face, she resisted the urge to roll her own eyes and tried in vain to disentangle herself from his arms.

"Aw, you still sore about that?" Dean laughed, and turned her around in his arms to keep her from getting very far. The decidedly irritated look on her face only made his cheeks start to hurt from smiling.

With a huff, Elena gave up on pushing against his arms and held onto his jacket instead.

"You still owe me a new lipstick!" she griped, leaning back as his face neared hers.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, and kissed her, if only to shut her up and warm him.

"I'm sorry I can't come down with Matt…my mom would have a fit if I didn't stay at home for Christmas. My dad's been pretty much MIA since she finished signing the legal shit."

"No, I understand," Elena said. She ran a hand through her unruly hair and leaned against the Impala's passenger door as she watched the numbers climb on the fuel meter. "I'll see if we can stop by when we leave Souix Falls, take the scenic route through Hill City."

"Give me a heads up when you do. We'll have some shots on me."

She laughed.

"Be ready to empty your wallet then. I don't think you've ever seen these guys drink."

"A couple heavyweights, huh?"

Elena distinctly recalled a night she only half remembered. But the next morning in the motel there were empty bottles littered over the table, and neither of the brothers looked like their hangovers were all that bad compared to the near migraine she'd suffered.

"They'd drink you under the table," she replied wryly, and removed the nozzle from the car's tank when it was full.

"We'll see about that."

Elena smiled ruefully and closed the tank lid, just as Sam and Dean walked out of the Seven Eleven.

"Listen, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Oh fine," Val sighed, and then more genuinely, "Give those boys of yours a holiday hug for me."

"Give Mattie one for me," she said, and pocketed her phone. Dean handed her a cup of coffee and a sandwich, though he looked significantly grumpier than before he went in the store.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he said, and went to unlock the car. Sam gave her a half amused, half exasperated look.

"They didn't have donuts," he answered for his brother. Elena frowned.

"Not even the frosted ones that come in the little packages?"

"They were out of the powdered ones."

"…Oh."

"Yeah."

The powdered were his favorite if it had to be donuts wrapped in plastic instead of freshly made.

"Let's just get going, all right?" Dean said tiredly and sat behind the wheel. "I told Bobby we'd be there by tonight."

It was only about four in the afternoon, but Elena could tell he just wanted to get on the road. They hadn't seen Bobby in a while, and she knew she wasn't the only one who wanted to see him. It hadn't taken long for Elena to realize that her uncle had been more of a father to the boys than anyone.

Even John Winchester, her thoughts finished for her. But that resurfaced other things she'd rather not think about on Christmas Eve, that she usually tried to block out every time December came around. Like her parents. More specifically, Jack. And thinking about her dad couldn't have been a better way to ruin such a great day.

Bobby debated with himself for nearly an hour before he broke down and bought a tree. The guy selling them under a large tent down the road called it tree—looked more like a bush to the hunter. It was the cheapest thing they had at fifteen dollars; three feet tall of skinny branches and a measly stub that was barely big enough to fit in the stand he fished out from the attic.

In short, pitiful.

But he didn't exactly have the cash for a sixty-dollar five-foot tree, nor did he have the patience to bring a heavy pain in the ass like that into the house and set it up. And while in the attic, the problem of decorations came to mind. Was he really going to sit here and put up jingle balls that were probably just going to roll right off the branches?

So he left the bin next to the fireplace until the boys and his niece got there.

Presents…shit,he thought. Were they doing that? He was willing to bet on no, since it was so last minute. All he really knew was they were bringing the food if he supplied the beer.

But they didn't have any grocery bags when they came through his front door around midnight.

"We'll go to the store tomorrow, Bobby," Elena promised with a tired smile. "It was a long drive."

She set down her bag on the couch and took in her surroundings with her hands on her hips. For once she didn't see a trail of beer bottles, but her eyes did catch on something.

"Is that a…Christmas tree?" she asked in amusement. Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "And a box of decorations?"

"Getting a little festive in your old age?" Dean teased as he plopped down on the couch next to Sam, who was already kicking his shoes off.

"Don't get too comfortable," Bobby said on his way to his bedroom. "'Cause you're the ones putting 'em up."

"Aw, come on, Bobby. We just drove eight hours," Dean complained. Bobby paused before the hallway.

"You want to do Christmas? I got you a tree. Now you decorate it. Sound fair?"

He made his way down the hall with a contented smile on his face, and didn't even turn around at Dean's muttered, "Scrooge."

He should've known better.

In the morning Bobby woke to the radio being played at an obnoxious volume level. When it became too loud to ignore he dragged himself out of bed an hour earlier than he wanted to (eight in the fucking morning according to the clock on his nightstand).

He trudged into the living room half awake and found it covered in tinsel. It wasn't just on the tree, but was strewn over his desk, the shelves, over the fireplace, and draped from what little hung on the walls. There weren't any presents under the tree, confirming his guess the day before that they weren't exchanging gifts. At least he didn't have to go out and spend more than fifteen dollars.

He then found the perpetrators in his kitchen, drinking his coffee, listening to his radio. Each of them called out their "Merry Christmases" over the holiday music.

"Hmph." He made his way over to the coffee machine and ignored their shared muffled laughter as he turned the volume down.

"He really is Scrooge."

He knew that was Dean.

"You chuckleheads are cleaning my house before you leave," he remarked while pouring the last of the coffee into his mug. But in truth, Bobby knew he brought it on himself.

"Shit, this was such a bad idea," Elena muttered when she steered Bobby's car into the supermarket parking lot. You'd think it wouldn't be so packed on Christmas Day.

"We could just go to Boston Market," Sam suggested.

"That would defeat the purpose of buying ingredients," she reminded him. Dean started helping Bobby on a Camaro older than Elena's, so she and Sam left them to it while they went to get Christmas dinner.

"Yeah but, how long does it take to make all that stuff?"

"You mean cranberries from a bag?" she said dryly. "We're buying the hard stuff already made. But we're out here because we've got the time to make an actual meal."

They could buy a ham and stuffing easily enough, but she could make things like mashed potatoes, gravy, and she knew Bobby would appreciate some cornbread. The only problem she didn't foresee was parking.

"Over there! Someone's getting out," Sam pointed, but squeezed the inside door handle when she sped up. "But don't hit the—"

"Watch it, lady!"

"Sorry, asshole!" she called. "I didn't realize you had the right of way with that stop sign right in front of you!"

The guy rolled his eyes and held up a choice finger as he drove his SUV around her. Sam shook his head.

"Dean's never going to let you drive the Impala."

She smirked at him.

"We'll see about that."

"Nearly got mauled, huh?" Dean asked.

"Last minute shoppers are vicious," Elena exclaimed. She was making space in the refrigerator for all the food they managed to buy. "I could barely find a parking space, let alone get out without someone almost hitting the car. Bobby would've killed me."

"Nah, he actually likes you."

"Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes. "He lets you get away with murder too. Don't even."

"Eh…yeah maybe." Dean nodded begrudgingly with a small grin.

Cranberries…eggs…milk…potatoes…ooh, stuffing.

He rummaged through each new grocery bag Sam was bringing in from the car, scanning over each item for something specific. Elena caught him snooping and raised an amused brow.

"I got you a Snickers to tide you over."

Dean perked up at that, temporarily forgetting his search.

"Where?"

"In my purse, over there on the counter." It didn't take him more than a few seconds to spot the black leather purse and start rifling through it.

"How long is it gunna take then?" he asked. His eyes lit up in success as he pulled out the candy bar. From the corner of his eye he saw Sam come in with the last two bags.

"Should only take an hour or two to get everything ready," said Sam, who handed Elena a white canister to stick in the freezer. "Ham is already made. We got a chicken too just in case."

"Awesome," said Dean. But thinking of food made him think of dessert, which brought him back to his search. "But uh…where's the pie?"

The other two paused, their eyes coincidentally meeting.

"Aw, Saaam," Dean groaned. "You forgot it again?"

"Dean—" the younger Winchester started, his expression guilty.

"That's all I asked for!"

"Dean, it wasn't his fault," Elena stepped in and set down the cornbread mix she was holding. "He reminded me when we got in, but I totally forgot."

She couldn't restrain a smile at his pouting expression. He would deny it later, but that was most definitely a Dean Winchester pout. She drew closer to him and grasped the folds of his plaid buttoned-down shirt. It was open, revealing the solid black shirt underneath that didn't quite mask the motor stains from working on the car's engine.

"I could go back and get one, with some whipped cream?" she offered. It looked like he was debating with himself until his hands came around her waist.

"It's okay. You're not going all the way back there," he said, and with a smirk, "You'd probably get Bobby's car smashed."

Elena rolled her eyes, but slid her arms under the plaid shirt and around his middle. On him she didn't mind the smell of sweat and motor fluid too much (at least, not as much as she used to).

"You sure?" she asked. "I feel bad now."

"It's okay." He bent close to her ear so his brother wouldn't hear. "You can make it up to me."

She was able to restrain a laugh and blushed knowing Sam was mere feet away, taking out the rest of the food from their plastic bags.

"Yeah?" she asked in a lowered voice. "Got any ideas?"

"A few." Dean kissed her neck and let her go. "But I'm gunna go take a shower."

"Yeah, you go do that," she teased, and made a show of brushing off her arms and clothes. He rolled his eyes and went up the stairs.

Elena turned to Sam and held out a hand expectantly. He sighed and slapped a twenty dollar bill onto it, but he still looked amused.

"That's almost not fair."

"Oh, Sam," she sighed. "You really don't want to know how easy your brother is."

Everything was…surprisingly good. Between the three men's appetite there was little left over. It had Dean remembering the last Christmas he and his brother shared.

It had been good; a little decorations, some gas station gifts, eggnog and watching the game with had probably been the best he'd ever had, even from when they were kids and their dad was still alive (which was a sad and hard thought to have). It had also almost been his last, and he thought so at the time.

"Something smells sweet," he noted, like cinnamon and bread.

"I lit a candle earlier," said Elena. "Cinnamon bun or something."

He snorted and shoveled more stuffing in his mouth.

Dean usually wrote off the holidays in general. It had never been Hallmark times when they were little, and didn't they really have time for them later on (besides last year). Sam would've killed for a Christmas like this when he was a kid. He'd complained about wanting the normality, the tree, the good food. But Dean could see that having their family here was what was putting a smile on Sam's face.

Bobby too was a little more smiley than usual. With a guilty pang, Dean realized he hadn't thought about what the old man did around this time of year. Hunt, probably. And Elena, she had probably gotten her dad home for Christmas somehow—

Shit.

This was her first Christmas since Jack died. Elena more or less looked fine, but when she smiled it didn't always reach her eyes. He thought she'd been quieter lately. Maybe that was also why she'd jumped on the chance to come to Bobby's.

He was confused when the oven started beeping.

"I'll get it," said Elena. She hastened to the kitchen, and he could pinpoint the moment she opened the oven by the smell rather than the sound.

"I thought you said the cinnamon-y smell was a candle," he said suspiciously. And then a freshly baked apple pie was placed in front of him. A hand slid smoothly around his shoulders, and he looked up at her bright smile with his own surprise.

"Merry Christmas," she teased, and he curled his arm around her waist.

"You made this?" he asked, a bit awed by the gesture. With her free hand she held up the white canister of whipped cream.

"On one condition." She set the whipped cream on the table and held up one finger in front of him. "You share."

Sam and Bobby chuckled and shared a look, while Dean smirked. He grabbed her closed hand and brought it to his lips.

"Eh, deal," he said.

They drank eggnog (spiked only a little with rum this time) and played cards until it was obvious none of them could stay awake for much longer. As much as Bobby didn't like it, he didn't say anything when Dean went upstairs with Elena into her room. But he knew Sam would be glad to have his own, even if it was right across from them.

Dean sat on the bed and kicked off his shoes and his jeans, then started rummaging through his bag for comfortable shorts. When he looked up, he was greeted by the sight of Elena in only a loosely fitting shirt and underwear. She grabbed the shorts out of his hands and tossed them behind her, then used his shoulders as support to straddle comfortably on his lap. He braced her back and kissed her slowly, tasting rum and cinnamon.

"Thanks for this," said Elena. "I, uh…I haven't done Christmas in a long time."

"It's not like I would've said no if you'd asked me." He tightened his hold on her. "How're you doin'?"

After a moment, she sighed.

"Am I that obvious?"

"Just to me," he grinned a little. But it soon faded. "Past few months have been tough on you."

Her smile was tinged with melancholy—the only sign of sadness he knew she was hiding.

"Not as much as they've been on you," she said. Dean frowned.

"So you think you can't tell me when something's bothering you?" he said. Elena's gaze dropped to his chin, while her fingers plucked absently at the edge of his shirt collar.

"Dad never missed my birthday. Always missed Christmas because it's right around my mom's birthday," she said quietly. Her eyes blinked a few extra times and swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I always liked it though. We had nice ones when I was little."

"So this one was good then?" Dean asked. Her eyes finally met his again, and she smiled genuinely, if a bit watery.

"The best I can remember."

"Good," he said, and then his look was more serious. "When something's not right, you tell me, okay?"

He playfully jostled her when she tried to look away.

"Got it?" he pressed. It teased a smile out of her.

"Okay," she nodded, and leaned into him when he kissed her despite the very few tears she allowed to escape. The palm of his hand reached her cheek, his thumb wiping them away.

Despite herself, she wanted to smile against his lips. He tasted like a third slice of pie (even though it had been put away before they even broke out the eggnog). Her arms sliding around his neck and his hand pressing more heavily against her lower back had Elena sliding closer from her perch on his thighs. But their tempo gradually slowed, until Dean spoke lowly against her lips,

"All right." His expression turned sly, and he bowed his head near her ear. "Know if there's any whipped cream left?"

She burst out laughing and pulled back so she could see his face, until she realized he was mostly serious.

"There's about half a tub, but we'd have to be quiet going downstairs to get it."

"Don't worry, babe." Dean's smirk deepened. "I'm Batman."