Title: Sigh No More, No More
Pairing(s): Tori Vega/Cat Valentine
Rating: T for now; dunno if it'll stay there. I'll let you know!
Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious or the characters of Victorious or any likeness to the characters. Not making any money writing this and all that jazz. The title is from the Mumford & Sons song/album "Sigh No More"
Summary: Tori's learning that Cat isn't someone to be pitied or humored; she's someone to be loved; someone that she loves.
A/N: Just wanted to step out of my Glee bubble so I decided to give my passive Cori love a shot. This may suck, sorry. Also, unbeta'd story is unbeta'd.
She hopes this is the house.
She's pretty sure it is.
Cat didn't really give her specific directions. Or a specific address.
She did give her very specific characteristics though complete with anecdotes that Tori is sure will stick with her for life and make sure she never ever forgets the house's appearance.
Looking at it now, she's pretty sure she couldn't forget it if she tried.
It sure does meet all of Cat's criteria.
Periwinkle coloring which Cat painted herself and accidently dyed her fingernails blue for two whole weeks until she realized it was really just nail polish on her nails—the same nail polish that inspired her to paint her house periwinkle blue in the first place. Check.
White picket fence that Cat's brother once got caught on and was found and mauled in the middle of the night by the neighborhood's token homeless man? Check.
Yards and yards of lush green lawn except for a huge black hole in the middle from when she and her brother tried out a new waxing technique that set blaze to the spot and spread until the nice, cute firemen came and put it out? Check.
There's just no way this could be anyone else's house. Even without all the checked off criteria, Tori thinks she'd probably be able to spot it anyway based on the sole fact that although they live in Hollywood of all place, Tori can't say she has ever seen any other house in the area that looks as if it's been blown straight from alongside the Yellow Brick Road like this one does.
If she had a tiny lapdog, she might feel inclined to clutch it to her chest and whisper, "Toto, I've a feeling we're not in California anymore,"
Good thing she doesn't have a lapdog then because Jade would have a field day with that one.
She kind of wishes, as she approaches the doorstep though, that she hadn't come alone.
The doorbell chimes loudly before she even applies pressure to the brightly lit button.
It's playing a song, something deep and melodious that probably echoes through the house just as much as it reverberates in her ears. She can't put a name to the tune but she's pretty sure it's an ode to something.
Something happy like rainbows or unicorns or bunnies or kittens.
Joy.
Ode to Joy.
There's sharp silence for a moment once the doorbell rings its last note and for a second, Tori thinks there's no one home which would be weird since Cat told her to come over at this time.
Or maybe it wouldn't be weird.
She wouldn't be all too surprised if Cat forgot she made plans.
She wouldn't be surprised at all if Cat showed up at her house instead, ready to hang out, even though they're supposed to be working on a project.
She's almost positive that's what happened—that Cat's forgot—and she's turning to leave the doorstep when she hears an enormous crashing resound from inside the house.
It's followed by some lesser crashes and the sound of trampling feet, like hordes of bulls or something.
Catastrophe.
It sounds like complete and utter catastrophe and before she can even begin to create theories for the sounds she's hearing, the door is being heaved open and Cat is smiling brightly at her.
"Hi Tori!" She looks like it doesn't sound like her house is collapsing in on itself.
"Hey Cat," Tori almost wants to crane her neck to look beyond the small redhead and into the house which has once again fallen into silence but that would be rude and Tori is nothing if not polite. "Is everything alright?" And maybe she's a little nosy too but it really sounded like a tornado blew through her house so she's mostly concerned more than anything else.
"Yeah," Cat nods vigorously and then, like feeling a raindrop on a California beach day, her face falls, her eyebrows creasing into her forehead, her nose scrunching and her dimple sinking hollow into her cheek, like a net for impending teardrops. "Why?" she asks, panicked. "Is everything not alright?"
"No," Tori assures, quickly. "I mean, yes!" Trust Cat to ask a question where both answers seem so wrong. "I mean, everything's fine!"
"Oh!" And just like that, Cat is smiling again. Beaming actually, like someone switched her lights on and it's glowing in her face. "Great!" she grabs Tori's wrists, pulling her inside the house.
It's bigger than Tori expects.
Huge, actually, and just nothing like what Tori imagined.
There's so much open space.
The front door leads right into the family room which is like a playground for hyperactivity. There's a couple of mismatch couches, a low glass coffee table, a lavish flat screen television and entertainment system—affixed high to the warm yellow walls—and then nothingness, well a staircase and nothingness. Nothingness to just roam and wander tirelessly until the room finally diverges by way of a massive columned archway into what Tori supposes is the kitchen.
She's so busy looking, trying to pinpoint the expected clutter, that she doesn't even notice a guy on the couch until Cat is dragging her further forward.
"Hey Tori!"
Like, legit, Cat's dragging her so close to him that the lack of space is bordering on uncomfortable.
"This is my brother,"
Ok, so not what Tori expected.
Heck, she expected a straitjacket.
She expected pale, awkward, slightly deranged.
She expected Edward Scissorhands.
In reality, he's just—he's not—he's— Tori can't explain it.
He's older—definitely—, maybe like in his early twenties with dusty blonde hair that sweeps low over his eyebrows and rugged stubble speckling his cheeks. He's broad in his shoulders—like he works out often—and hard in his eyes—like he practices his distant gaze.
He's someone that Tori can imagine at the beach in board shorts, clinging to a surfboard, not someone she can imagine sticking his head in a toilet, or helping Cat shave the lawn.
"This is Tori," Cat introduces, lifting Tori's hand and taking her brother's until she can maneuver them into a handshake that she legitimately shakes on her own, clasping their clasped hands tightly and shaking them like she would a rattle.
She nudges her brother's knee with her own, clearing her throat loudly.
"Say "hi Tori,"' she instructs.
"Hi Tori," he repeats, voice gruff and yielding, like humoring Cat is something he does often and instinctively.
It probably is.
It's something that Tori finds herself doing often and instinctively and she doesn't even live with her.
Whatever it is, Cat's seemingly satisfied with his greeting, and she continues dragging Tori along the open space.
"Do you want some oatmeal cookies?" she asks and Tori nods because she really doesn't think she has a choice, not when Cat is dragging her to the kitchen. "My mom made them this morning," Well, Tori's kind of relieved her brother hadn't made them—sure, after kind of, sort of, just meeting him, he doesn't seem as bad Cat's stories suggest, but the stories are still seared into her brain and she's positive she'd never eat anything he had made.
"They're kinda high though, so you have to get them!"
Tori rolls her eyes at that because of course she does; Cat may be the sweetest person on Earth but she's also a master at tricking people into doing her bidding and this—sneaking cookies or anything sweet really—is totally her agenda.
But for once, it looks like Cat has enlisted the wrong kind of help.
Even on her tippy-toes, the plastic container just eludes her reach. Her fingertips just barely graze the hard blue edge of the lid and she tries to hook it, to hit it, to drag it, but she's pretty sure it's an impossible task.
"Cat, I can't—"
"Yes you can Tori," Cat assures her. "I have faith in you,"
Tori groans, trying to stretch even higher but when she touches it this time, she's pretty sure it only moves the container further back.
She's so focused on the task at hand that she doesn't even hear someone else enter the kitchen.
"What's going on?"
The male voice startles her.
"We're trying to get the oatmeal cookies mom made," Cat replies simply even though, well, Tori's trying—not her— and as much as she's trying, she's failing.
"Hey Tori!" Her failure doesn't seem to be dampening Cat's mood. "This is my brother,"
She's about to tell Cat that she's already introduced them—just moments ago, even—but when she turns around, the first thing she is greeted by is colors, lots of them and the very next thought that pops into her head is that this guy is so not the guy she just met.
He's lanky, this guy, with dark hair gelled into spikes and a clean shaven face and absolutely flawless skin. He's Asian, she notes, which is weird because she never knew Cat was Asian or part Asian or something and she's pretty sure that's something Cat would have mentioned.
"Hi," he smiles at her, bearing bright white teeth. He holds his hands out, turning them over and then over again. "I would shake but—" he gestures to his hands with the sharp point of his chin. "Paint,"
His hands are covered in it, colors bursting from alongside the creases between raised veins all the way to his cuticles.
His clothes are covered in it too—or at least, Tori hopes his clothes are covered in it because there is really no excuse for a store to sell anything that looks like it has been run over by a rainbow.
She smiles back at him anyway, uttering a greeting even though confusion is gnawing at her.
Maybe he's not Cat's brother, maybe he's her really close neighbor or something?
Then again, now that she thinks about it, the guy on the couch really didn't look of any relation to Cat either.
Maybe neither of them are related to her.
Maybe Cat's confused.
Tori is sure confused by it.
"Here," He snaps her out of her thoughts as he grabs the elusive container easily, smudging orange and green into the side of the blue lid when he puts the container on the counter.
Cat squeals at her success, hugging him tight around the waist and murmuring a repeated chant of her thanks.
He smiles at her, not like he's humoring her, not like he's just so used to her, but like he's happy to have made her happy—Tori's already seeing more of Cat in him than in the guy on the couch. The head-stuck-in-the-toilet thing is still a stretch though.
"You're welcome, little sis," he says, lips curling like he's trying to reel in another smile. "but if mom finds out, I didn't do it,"
Tori wants to point out that it's pretty clear that he did, what with the paint and all, but he's bounding out of the kitchen with a gust of unusual energy before Tori can even say the words.
And then she and Cat are alone and Cat's already happily munching on cookies like nothing weird just happened.
"Cat?"
Curiosity is gnawing at her; she's running over every "my brother…" in her head, trying to associate each weird behavior with each weird brother but things are just not adding up.
"Mmmhmm?"
Cat's on her like forth cookie already.
"How many brothers do you have?"
Do you have anymore? Why don't you like, I don't know, call them by their names? Are they even really your brothers? Do you pick up brothers like strays? What's going on?
So many questions.
She only asks the one though and Cat's response is a really unhelpful shrug.
Tori's about to press the issue when someone else enters the kitchen.
Another guy.
Oh great, another brother probably.
He's lean with dark skin and dark hair and a very easy-going smile.
"Cat," his voice is smooth like honey, tone as relaxed as his disposition.
"Daddy!"
Ok, now Tori is really confused.
Cat jumps into the older man's arms, allowing him to spin her around.
"Daddy," she says again, once her feet are on the ground. "This is my friend Tori,"
He makes a deep humming noise in the back of his throat, appraising her carefully. His eyes squint a bit like maybe he usually wears glasses or something.
Tori thinks she probably makes the same squinty eyes when she forgets her contacts.
"Tori," He says her name warm, like hot chocolate that swirls and melts on the tongue. And then he's hugging her, wrapping her in his warmth. "It's nice to finally meet you, Tori. Cat talks about you religiously,"
"She does?" she asks, surprised. She looks to Cat for confirmation but Cat's engrossed in her cookies.
"Every day," he confirms. "Anyway, kids," he ruffles Cat's hair affectionately which Cat squeals about and combs her red tresses back into their previous condition. "Don't eat too many cookies or you'll never eat dinner," His smile is liquid. "And Cat, don't forget to remind your brother to take his medication, okay?"
"Ok, dad," Cat agrees, watching as he leaves the kitchen.
"Cat?" the coils are twisting in Tori's head now, numbers crunching and adding until the obvious answer for all the strangeness she has witnessed is at the forefront of her mind. "Cat, are you adopted?"
She brings her palm to her mouth the moment the question leaves her lips.
She shouldn't have asked that. It was completely rude and god, what if Cat didn't know?
No, Cat had to know; Cat is a lot of things but Tori will be the first to affirm that contrary to popular belief, stupid isn't one of them.
Cat has to know even though her eyebrows are furrowing into her forehead in surprise and her lips are pursing in shock.
"Well, duh, Tori," she says and then her smile is back and she's grabbing Tori's wrist again and leading her out of the kitchen. "Wanna work on the project in my room?"
Tori nods an affirmation even though her mind is so far away. She has so many more questions.
She's know Cat for a while now, how comes she's only now finding out that Cat's adopted? Do the rest of their friends know? Is it a secret? Is Cat bothered by it? Does Cat know her biological parents?
Oh God, her biological parents! Has she met them? Why would they give her up for adoption?
There's plenty of reasons that could happen; Tori's aware of the fact that there are many different circumstances and she can't even begin to guess the details of Cat's situation but as Cat doddles lilac hearts onto their large poster board, all she can think is that somewhere along the way, someone didn't want Cat.
Her chest aches with the realization.
What if that's how Cat feels all the time? Unwanted!
That thought makes her heart squeeze so tight she's sure it may burst.
No, Cat can't feel unwanted. She has her, she has their friends; Tori's going to make sure she feels nothing but loved ever again.
TBC…
So, this story may really suck, cause as I said, this is a step outside my Glee comfort zone but I'm gonna continue this anyway so review please! Tell me what you think!