Disclaimer: I don't own the Office. Give me some time, I will.

A/N: I am so excited about this story. It has so much potential and I'm really excited about this chapter. This has a lot of explanation so bear with me. Let's just say that this chapter gives you an idea of how Michael is the way that he is. Also, this chapter isn't really funny as it is ironic. I hope you kids like it. Now, on with the show…

8:30 pm

Michael and Paul were riding in Paul's motorcycle. However, Paul's bike was no your everyday motorcycle. This one could move at turbo speed, making long distances in mere minutes. They arrived to Dixon City in only thirty seconds.

Paul hopped off his bike, "Man, that was quick." He twisted his back, cracking out a kink, "I forget how fast that thing can go sometimes." He chuckled to himself as he took off his helmet. He turned around and looked for Michael, "Hey Michael, c'mon. It's already 8:30 –

Michael was bunched up in the buggy, looking around the motorcycle and seeing solid ground. He cautiously took off his helmet and looked around, seeing if the coast was clear. He slowly stood up and stepped out of the buggy. He shook a little, still shaken from the ride. He looked over at Paul, who was smiling, and yelled, "Why didn't you tell me that wasn't a normal motorcycle!"

Paul shrugged, "Sure, its normal."

Michael away from the bike, "How is that thing normal?"

Paul smiled, "It's normally that fast." He came up to it and patted its seat, "Just the way I like her."

Michael grimaced, "Whatever floats your boat, bucko." He threw the helmet back into the buggy and took in his surroundings.

He was back in his childhood neighborhood, Kenneth Road. He was born and raised on this block. He made his first few steps in front of an old sycamore tree not too far away from where he was. He learned to ride a bike down that dirt path near the edge of the block and he asked the first girl he ever liked to hold his hand not two houses away from where he stood. It had been quite a while, but he was home.

Michael took a deep breath, "Wow."

Paul patted Michael on the back, "Welcome back."

Michael looked around and took it all in, "I always wanted Jan to meet her." He scratched the back of his chin, "I know she would have loved her."

Paul beckoned Michael to follow, "C'mon, it's getting late." He walked up to Michael's childhood home. It was a two-story house with two windows in front on the second floor. It also had a small circular window for the attic. There was a bay window in the first floor with several throw pillows on the seat. The front door was big and wooden, with a designed glass in the center. The garage was attached to the side of the house, but no car was inside.

Michael budded his head to the driveway, "My mother never learned to drive. She didn't see the point in traveling. She figured everything she needed was right here in Dixon City." He shrugged, thinking about memories of traveling on his own, not really sure if that was ever possible now.

Paul nodded, "She's right, you know. As long as you have air in your lungs and people who love you at your side, there's nothing else in the world you need."

Michael scoffed, "Please, that's hardly what you need."

Paul shook his head, "Maybe more about that later. Right now, let's see how Roberta Scott is doing." Paul walked right through the brick wall.

Michael jumped, "What the hell –

Paul came out of the wall again, "C'mon, you can do it too. It's easy. Just walk on through." He walked on through again.

Michael cautiously followed him through the wall, which led into his childhood kitchen. He was reminded instantly of hundreds of memories in that kitchen. He remembered cakes on birthdays and pancakes on Sunday mornings. He even remembered the time when he did stub his toe trying to reach the last of his mother's chocolate chip cookies. He also remembered so unpleasant memories. When his mother and his father fought, when he used to see his mother making out with Jeff, his stepfather, when he came home and found out his wasn't going to Penn State. Everything came rushing back.

Michael looked around at the kitchen some more and noticed small differences like pictures that were hung the refrigerator in his youth were missing. Pictures of Michael in elementary school and high school were missing. Drawings that Michael had done when he was a child were gone. Magnets that he made for past Mother's Days were nowhere to be seen. In this kitchen, not a trace of Michael's existence could be found. A large lump in Michael's throat started to form, "Where's my mother?"

Paul was looking in the living room when he beckoned Michael to come, "She's in here."

Michael fastened his pace, until he saw his mother. She didn't look the same as she always had. She looked… different. Her hair, which was always long and brown, was now silver, tied into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her eyes, which were always sparkling blue, were now a dull blue, as if the fire in her was extinguished. She was knitting a scarf in a multi-colored pattern. Michael looked confused, "She never knitted."

Paul turned away, "What's that?'

Michael repeated, "She never knitted. She thought the whole thing was stupid." He got closer to his mother and reached out.

Paul shouted, "You can't –

But it was too late. Michael attempted to touch her arm, but his hand went right through her. "Why can't I touch her?"

"You don't exist, remember? You are not a part of this world. You cannot be seen, heard, smelled, or touched. You do not exist."

Michael nodded, "Okay, fine. So I can't touch my mother. I get it." He paced around the room, trying to figure out what to do next. When he finally gave up, he sat back down next to his mother on the couch, "What do I do now?"

Paul shrugged, "Whatever you want. If you want to just stay here and watch this film with you mother, you can."

Michael looked over at his mother again, who was completely oblivious of his presence. He nodded, "Okay."

All of sudden, a voice was heard from far upstairs, "Woman, bring me my sammiches!"

Roberta turned at the sound and exhaled quietly, putting down her yarn and going into the kitchen.

Michael watched as she left the couch and walked past him without skipping a beat, "Who was that?"

Paul looked up, "Go find out yourself."

Michael looked up the stairs and followed the voice that screamed again, "Would you hurry up, woman! I'm about to die from starvation up here." Michael got madder and madder as he made each step, getting closer to the voice that was so rude to his mother. It was no surprise that he found the only other person in this world he hated more than Toby Flenderson, his stepfather, Jeff.

He was sitting in a big reclining chair, directly positioned in front of the television. He looked different as well. He wasn't the handsome man that his mother married so many years ago. He was much heavier, with a receding hairline. He looked much greaser and yelled a lot more, but he was still the jerk that he always was, just more obvious.

Michael's blood began to boil as he watched his mother come into the room with a pile of sandwiches on a plate and hand them to him. His mother looked so frail compared to him. In Michael's eyes, his mother was always so strong and loving, but as she handed Jeff the plate of food, he saw a hatred that he had always dreamt he could see. "Here you go, dear."

Jeff snatched the plate and began to gorge himself with the food, "Thanks, Ro." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and started laughing at the sitcom on television. "I swear to God, that Mr. Ed is too damn funny." He laughed some more and didn't speak another word to Roberta.

She grimaced, "Sure thing, sweetheart." She turned around and made her way back downstairs. Michael had followed her and watched her have trouble making it back down stairs. "She never had trouble walking. She's in the best shape of her life. Last year, she was in a triathlon. She's incredibly active."

Paul pooped up, "Well… in this world, your mother has had two coronary episodes in the last five years. She was admitted into the hospital numerous of times since her last episode and she's on several medications."

Michael looked distraught, "But she always keeps herself in excellent shape. In all honesty, my mom was hot."

Paul grimaced, "She doesn't look too hot right now."

Michael grew offended, "Watch what you say about my mama, Flenderson."

Paul rolled his eyes, "First of all, I'm not Flenderson. And second, look."

Michael followed Paul's gaze, "Oh my –

Michael's mother was crying by the kitchen sink. She cried out for someone to help her, God, anybody. "Please Lord, if you hear me, please, just make me strong, Lord. Give me strength." She breathed out quietly, "I'm so tired, Lord. I'm so tired of feeling so lost. I'm too old to feel this way." She cried out, "I just want someone to love me." She crossed her arms and sat down at the kitchen table, sobbing.

Michael crotched down next to her, "I love you, Mom. I love you."

Paul look skeptical, "Do you?"

Michael turned, "Of course I do! How can you say –

Paul folded his arms, "Really? How come you never see her as often as you should?"

Michael shrugged, "I don't know… I'm so busy with work… but we talk on the phone once a week.

Paul replied, "And suggest her to divorce Jeff every week? Michael… can't you have a normal conversation with her?"

Michael sighed, "I try but we can't talk like we use to. We used to be able to talk and understand each other. Now we… I just wish she wasn't with Jeff. God. He sucks. And reeks!"

Paul nodded, "Yeah, but without you around, existent or non-existent, he's all she has."

Michael stood up, "But how did this happen? Why is she so different? Why does she look so bad and… old?"

Paul shrugged, "You see, Michael. Your mother never met your father. She and your father were supposed to meet at the Swamp n' Meet, but Roberta never made it. She missed her last train and had to take the next one, missing your father completely. She went to college and did all the things she wanted to do before she met Jeff. After Jeff and Roberta married, they tried to have children, but Jeff couldn't reproduce. So… it's just been them all this time. Jeff stays because he knows he's guaranteed a hot meal and a warm bed every night. Roberta stays because Jeff is the only thing she has in this world."

Michael looked confused, "But Jeff never acted like this, well… not in front of Mom. He was always a jerk to me as a kid, but he treated my mother with the world of respect."

Paul nodded, "Yeah, but you see, your father, Michael, was the love of your mother's life. When he died, she was devastated, believing that she could never find a man as great as him."

Michael nodded, "Got that right."

Paul continued, "Well… when Jeff came along, he was someone who was kind and generous to her. She felt good about herself again. She started singing in the shower again. She felt alive again. But she wouldn't be able to do it own her own, because she had you."

Michael looked confused again, "Me?"

Paul nodded, "Yeah, you. She had to be strong for you. That's why she made you do all those activities in school like hockey. She wanted you to be able to smile again, and with you in her life, she was able to smile again too. You're the reason why your mother is strong and healthy. Jeff might be the man in her life now, but you were the reason why she got up in the morning. You were her reason for living. You were her greatest accomplishment."

Michael looked skeptical, "Me? Her greatest accomplishment? Wow."

Paul agreed, "I know. You? Man, she really didn't have much going for her, did she?"

Michael nodded, "Yeah… hey?"

Paul chuckled, "Sorry, way too easy." He patted Michael on the shoulder again, "Your mother needs you in her life. Without you, she's … well, she's lost."

Michael smiled at his mother, remembering something he hadn't thought out about in years.

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Michael had just came downstairs for breakfast. His mother was at the stove, making pancakes, like she did every Sunday. "Morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?"

Michael rubbed some sleep out of his eye, "Mmmkay. I had a bad nightmare though."

Roberta turned around concerned, "What about?"

Michael cleared his throat, "I don't know."

Roberta turned off the stove and took a seat next to Michael at the kitchen table, "C'mon, honey. Tell Mom what's wrong?"

Michael shrugged, "It's stupid."

Roberta shook her head, "Whatever it is, it's not stupid." She gently stroked his back and put him at ease.

Michael looked up, "I dreamed that I had no friends and that I would never be anything. That I was just a failure that everybody hated. People teased me and they made fun of me. I was just this big loser."

Roberta put her hand on his shoulder, "Now you stop with that talk right now. You are not a loser or a failure. You're a TV star. Who else do you know who was on a television show? Huh? Are all those pageants. And who the best goalie on the school's hockey team? I think he's in this very room…" She looked around pretending to look for someone.

Michael rolled his eyes, "Mom…" He giggled as she tickled him on his stomach. "Stop…that tickles…" They both laughed some more.

Roberta took Michael by his chin, "You are so special. And maybe sometimes people don't see that right away, but that's okay. Sometimes, people hold this special quality, a quality that has to be found. But when it's found, boy oh boy, is it special. And that's what you are. You may meet people who don't appreciate who special you are, but one day, you'll find that person that makes you feel most special. And when you do, you hold on to her for all it's worth. You have so much to offer the world, Michael. And I know you will. I believe that from the bottom of my heart." She gave Michael a kiss on the cheek, which made him smile. "So, no more of these 'nightmares' about being a failure or a loser?"

Michael nodded, "Okay, Mom."

Roberta nodded, "Good." She went back to the stove to get the pancakes but turned around again, "Just one more thing. You are never a failure if you try." She gave Michael a warm smile. "Now, eat up. We got a big day ahead of his. Somebody has a birthday coming up!"

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As the memory faded away, Michael watched his mother, now the frail little woman in a housecoat and remembered what she was as his mother, a strong woman. He wanted her back the way she was.

"I can't see her like this. I don't wanna see this anymore." Michael slowly backed out of the kitchen and went through the wall.

Paul shrugged and followed, "We can go wherever you want to go." He walked towards his motorcycle, putting on his helmet, "Where to next?"

Michael walked up to the buggy and stepped inside, "I wanna see the office."

Paul nodded, "I was wondering when we would get to that." He put the bike in gear, "Let's hit it."

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More to come. In the next chapter, Michael sees the office, and sees someone inside. I hope you liked this. I wanted Michael's mother to be a funny woman, someone that Michael would aspire to be like. Someone that people actually like. Thanks for the reviews so far, you guys are too awesome for words. Look up for an update soon.

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