This is Us [ Elijah Mikaelson ] 2

sixty-one

"Who is going to eat all of these cookies?" Max asked as he helped Penelope move newly decorated Christmas sugar cookies from the sheet to plates.

"Santa, duh," She replied instantly as she moved some of the pressed cookies into a storage container.

"But Santa doesn't exist," Max said simply. Penelope stopped and looked at him, something weighing her heart in disappointment.

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm going to be turning twelve next year."

"So? Just because you're twelve doesn't mean Santa still doesn't come-"

"I stopped believing in Santa two years ago."

"Oh," She muttered, her posture deflating.

"Do...you still believe in Santa?" Max asked her carefully, but Penelope shook her head.

"No, not anymore."

"Then why do you talk about it as if you do?"

"Because," She shrugged as she leaned into her chair, "its part of Christmas, the spirit of Christmas, I guess," Penelope didn't really know how to answer it, and that was really the only thing that she could say. Her and her grandma always talked about Santa is if he was real.

"When did you stop believing in him?"

"I was eight," She answered, looking down at the green tree cookies that reminded her of the Grinch. "I mean, I started having doubts about Santa when I was eight. I wrote so many letters, and when my parents took me to see Santa at the mall. I remember when he asked me if I had been a good girl that year I just nodded and when he asked what I would want for Christmas," Penelope took in an unsteady breath, her eyes still focusing on the cookies. "I said all I wanted was for my mom to get better," Max froze and looked at her.

He's never heard Penelope talk about her mom. He knew that she got sick and passed away when she was little, and that she lived with her grandmother, that was why he never met her. Well, that's what his parents told him, but he wasn't naïve. He knew their dad kept him and his mom a secret from Penelope. But to hear her talk about her mom, even just mentioning her when she was sick, he didn't know what to say to her.

"Then the next Christmas, was the first Christmas I had without my mom. When my grandma took me to see Santa, I was asked again what I wanted for Christmas and I just asked for a normal Christmas. I wanted to feel normal again," She continued, she reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. "Even though, the tree wasn't the same, even though my grandma didn't hide Cinderella's slipper for me, even though we had store bought cookies, I still held out hope for the Christmas dress I always got every year," Penelope sniffled and wiped her eyes again. "I wished to feel normal, to have something that felt normal happen for Christmas. When I didn't get it... when Dad told me none came, that I was getting too old for them...I knew Santa wasn't real."

"I'm sorry," Max whispered, and Penelope looked at him with a small smile.

"It's..." She paused, letting out a breath. "It was a long time ago. Just because I don't believe in Santa doesn't mean I still don't like him and what he represents."

"I'm sorry you stopped believing because you lost your mom..." He said, looking at the cookies. "I only stopped believing because I snuck out of my room to catch Santa and saw my parents bring all the presents out."