Chapter Text
Ever since year twelve when Tori met Michael, people have kinda expected them to last. No one had ever quite broken into Tori’s life (and psyche) the way Michael had and no one else really tried. When Michael graduated at the end of the year and started training for the winter olympics, he still made time to come home and see Tori when he could. She wasn’t someone who needed that constant one on one with people but with Michael it had always been different.
Tori would be a liar if she said that Michael hadn’t busted his way into the glass house she called a life and didn’t start redecorating instantly. He always made Tori think about herself and the type of person she is, how she hated being with people but being with Michael wasn’t like that and how she knew she didn’t want friends but she also knew she wanted Michael. So they made things work until Tori graduated.
Moving away for university shouldn’t have been something that made Tori feel emotional but it kinda did. Mom and dad carried her boxes and bags up towards the flat she and Michael are renting while Oliver, Charlie and Nick had a small assembly line trying to get things out of the boot of dad’s car and onto the sidewalk. Tori stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked up at the complex their flat was in. Michael came up next to her and craned his head up to look. “I know it isn’t much,” He says. “But it’ll be good enough with the budget we have.” And then he’s following Mom and dad in through the lobby and towards the elevator.
Tori looks back at where Nick has Oliver up in the air giggling and Charlie watches amazed. She turns back to the building. Isn’t much? She thinks. It’ll do just fine as long as there's room for him and me.
Living with Michael was kind of amazing. They lived in that small flat that was just close enough to Tori’s campus and was a short enough bus ride from Michael’s rink for a couple years after Tori graduated to be honest. There was never really any real desire to leave, Tori could make her way to her videography job just fine and Michael spent all his time he wasn’t at the rink at home with their cat. So why would they ever need to move out of their little apartment?
Mum doesn’t seem to agree. But when does mom ever seem to agree with Tori? When is she not undermining and just plain mean?
It was a monthly tradition to come home for dinner on the same weekend as Charlie and Nick. So as Tori and Michael walked up the steps to the house, a bottle of wine tucked under Michael’s arm, Tori was not expecting the conversation that was to come.
She sits across from Nick at the table, dad and mom sat at each end of the table and Oliver sits next to her. Dad carries the conversation with both Nick and Michael and talks mainly about sports. Though, Michael isn’t much for sports other than speed skating. Mom says things to Charlie every once in a while and Tori mainly snacks on the plate of noodles and chicken in front of her. Oliver, as he is no longer eight years old anymore, sneakily tries to play with the tamagotchi he’d gotten for his birthday under the table instead of engaging in conversation without being spoken to first. Tori respects it and doesn’t bother him with useless conversation, though she herself hates useless conversation. She seemed to hate useless conversation, and just about everything else, a lot more intensely before she’d been medicated.
“So Tori,” Mum says finally and Dad seems to cut off his own conversation when she starts talking. This must be planned. “Me and Dad were just wondering when you and Michael had plans to take any more big steps in your relationship.” Tori can hear Michael choking on his glass of wine as she looks down at her hand holding her fork with a bite of food on it.
The room becomes almost too quiet after her words. Dad and Mum are waiting for a response and Nick and Charlie seem to be holding their breaths waiting to see how Tori will respond. Tori doesn't even dare look up from her plate. “Well? You know how rude it is to not respond when you’ve been asked a question.” Mom says, picking up her own glass of wine to sip as she rolls her eyes. “Honestly Victoria, I thought you would’ve grown out of this after high school.” She half mumbles it but it’s obviously meant to be heard.
Tori plops the angel hair pasta on her fork back down onto her plate. She sits the fork on the table next to her plate afterwards. Michael is watching her from the corner of his eye, not knowing if he should say something or let Tori handle it. “What do you mean, Mum?” She finally asks. When she finally looks at Mom the disappointment is clear in her face.
“Well, it is traditional for a man and woman to be married by your age,” Mum says and takes another bite of her food as if this isn’t the most diabolical discussion of Tori’s entire life. Dad still hasn’t said anything and in the silence she can faintly hear Oliver’s tamagotchi asking to be fed. “I mean by the time I was your age, Tori, I was already pregnant with you.” She takes another bite. Tori can see Charlie watching in the corner of her eye.
“I’m just worried you’re throwing your life away, Victoria. I mean you went to film school and you’re dating a speed skater, I mean everything about your life right now is hardly conventional.” She shrugs as if she didn’t just attack every aspect of Tori’s life she decided for herself. “Maybe getting married would be good for you, settle you down a bit.”
Tori feels like her insides should be on the outsides. Her brain feels like it’s full of dirty dishwater and her stomach is tied up in knots. Why did Mom always feel the need to start something with her?
Michael finally reaches out and he holds Tori’s hand under the table. The feeling makes her feel a little more grounded. With her head back out of the clouds Tori can think all about what Mom said. She thinks first about Becky and how she has the life Mom was describing. She married her college boyfriend and they currently had a two year old and she was pregnant with their next. It works well for Becky because that's the type of life she’s always imagined herself in. But Tori despises the idea of being her mother. Her mom keeps comparing her life to hers and it makes Tori feel sick. She despises the life her mother lives, a miserable wife who acts like she despises her kids and can barely pull her head out of the family computer long enough to help her child iron their school skirt. Tori finally can start feeling herself shake. She is looking towards Mom but she feels like she’s looking through her.
Finally she squeezes Michael’s hand back and sits back in her chair. “Okay.” She finally says, picking up her glass of diet lemonade to take a drink.
When Tori and Michael finally get home later that evening, Troi feels like she’s been put through the ringer. She slips her shoes off when she walks through the door before taking off towards the bedroom. Michael must stick behind to put stuff in the fridge and clean up a bit in the front of the house because he doesn’t come into the bedroom at all while Tori is getting her stuff ready to shower.
She slips into the bathroom, turning the shower on and making sure the water is hot. Her robe and hair towel get sat on the counter before she’s undressing and stepping in. The water feels so good against her skin. Her muscles become less tense as she lets the stream of water fall over her body. She honestly feels like she could melt and fall down the drain. Mom has always had this effect on her, unfortunately. In high school it was kind of whatever, Tori was going through a lot and honestly felt numb to the world.
But as she heals and gets better, mom taking shots at her so directly, so publicly, makes her feel sick and like a kicked puppy. She leans her head against the tile of the shower cubicle and hears the door to the bathroom open. It’s quiet after that, some rustling but she keeps still. Her brain is good at eating away at those little moments of happiness or hope in these situations, convincing her that there is truly no way that she could deserve better things when this is how her life tends to lead her. After a moment, she’s knocked out of her daze when Michael is stepping into the shower with her and placing a small kiss to her naked shoulder. He hugs her lightly from behind, Tori’s muscles relaxing in his hold.
The water hits them from above, Tori is crying before she can really even understand. Michael just holds her, doesn’t joke, doesn’t make her talk. He just pressed his skin against her skin and it seeped its warmth into her. She knows she isn’t drifting away like she has before, she’s so present and solid in her mind, in her life, in the shower. But she still feels bad. It’s like she’s been thrown back into high school, struggling to feel seen and continuing to sink deeper and deeper into this state of depression that can, will, kill her. Michael’s hands are rough and calloused from his years of speed skating training as they rub over Tori’s sides. She feels a bit like melting but in the worst way possible.
“Just when I thought your mum was over her criticizing and degrading, she pulls out the big guns.” Michael jokes. Tori snorts. The water runs down the top of her head and over her bangs that are stuck to her forehead, over her face as she sits with her eyes closed. One of Miachel’s hands lands to rest on her tummy, the other pulls her back closer to him still.
“Don’t ever underestimate mum.” Tori jokes. She leans into Michael.
The next morning, Tori wakes up in the morning and yawns sleepily. Michael is still sleeping, his mess of curls sprawled out over his pillow and his thick glasses folded on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Tori opens her dresser and starts changing from her pajama to her work clothes (which mainly consist of sweatpants and jumpers). She works from home most days, going into the office or studio when she’s needed.
She settles herself on the couch, turning on the tv and moving to play the lord of the rings movies quietly as she works. Tori’s laptop boots up and shows off the background picture of Charlie, Oliver, Nick and Michael all messing around. She gets to work quickly, opening her timecard and punching in before she can start doing some editing. Tori reaches for the bottle of diet lemonade she’d grabbed on her way to the couch, opening the top and taking a sip as she watches the beginning of the video she’d already edited. She pauses to fix a couple assets but she eventually gets into the swing of her work.
She probably sits there for almost two hours before she hears the sound of meowing and finds Michael coming into the living room. He is holding their cat, Edgar, as he walks into the room. He is speaking to Edgar, telling him about how he’s a grown man and he needs to stop mooching off him and Troi and start paying his taxes. Tori feels her lip quirk, moving some stuff around in after effects as she edits. Michael plops onto the couch next to her, Edgar still in his arms. The cat meows and wiggles out of Michael’s grip to trot over to Tori. Tori picks up her hand and pets him. “Hello there sir,” She says.
Michael watches as Tori pets Edgar, her hand rolling over his fur lightly as she uses her other hand to click stuff on her screen. Tori looks back at him. Michael smiles, leaning his head on his hand that's propped up on the back of the couch. Tori gives a lopsided smile, as she always does.
They lapse into silence, Michael going to make some coffee and then comes back to watch the movie on the TV intently. Tori continues to work, Michael mumbling to himself about the movie and critiquing the main character’s actions. Edgar is sat on the back of the couch, lazing around and flicking his tail against the side of Michael’s head every once in a while. Michael glares at him when it happens. “Can we make him start paying his share of the rent?” He says infally and moves Edgar farther down the couch towards Tori.
“He doesn’t even have a job. They kicked him out of the biscuit factory because he was too slow.” She says without looking up from her screen. Michael smiles at her from where hs sits on the other side of the couch. He stands up with his empty coffee cup, moving to lean over and give Tori a kiss on her forehead before he heads off to wash his cup. Tori watches after him. He’s so good to her. It makes her think about if she’s good enough to him.
Then it hits her. She never asked Michael if he wanted to have kids. She just decided they would never have a family on her own without even asking. Tori’s mood sours. She looks down at the progress she’d made and deems it enough for now and closes her laptop, placing it on the table. She turns on her side and curls in on herself, eyes on the screen but not processing any of it.
When Michael returns, he’s in his sweats and hoodie he wears when he heads to the rink. His bag is thrown over his shoulder and he pokes his head in. “Ah, done for the day already?” He says with a smile. Tori grumbles. His face falls. “What’s wrong Troi?”
“Am I making decisions for us?” She says. Michael’s eyebrows pull together in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“When my mom asked about kids or getting married, I immediately shut her down. We haven’t even talked about that stuff. I don’t know if you want to get married, I don’t know if you want a family.” Tori feels really fragile thinking about trapping Michael here with her and refusing to give him the life he wants.
Michale moves into the room and sits on the floor in front of Tori. “Tori,” He says, reaching out to move some hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Why are you thinking about that?” He asks.
Tori doesn’t want to cry, but she can feel the sting in her skull from her eyes wanting to water. “I don’t even want to have sex most of the time, how could we ever have a baby?” She says, sounding small. Michael looks down at her gently.
“Why would we have a baby if you don’t want to?”
“What if you want a baby?”
“They we’d adopt, or like, find a surrogate.” He shrugs.
Tori sniffles. “You wouldn’t need me to have our baby?”
“Of course not. There’s so many kids out there who need a home and even if we want it to be our biological child, I wouldn't expect you to get pregnant. That is not something you’re comfortable with.” He says this like it isn’t the best thing Tori has ever heard in her life. She starts to sit up and wipes at her eyes.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“I sure would hope so.” Michael laughs. He reaches up to place a hand on Tori’s knee, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Let me grab my coat, I’ll go to the rink with you.” Tori says as she stands. Michael throws her a thumbs up.
“Okay, you should bring your hat and mittens too. You get super cold.” He says after her. Tori rolls her eyes.
“It’s not my fault you have no sense of cold.” She mutters to herself as she heads off to their bedroom.