Chapter One

He always hated that, the idea that Ricks don't care about their Mortys. He had never met a Rick that didn't care. And this Rick, he cared about his Morty. He probably cared too much; it made him sick sometimes.

He loved his Morty; like a Rick should.

He knew some Ricks that had more than one Morty, but those Ricks also made their Mortys fight. Like dogs or cocks or something. He despised it. That was terrible; and so many of those Mortys already lost everything already. He couldn't imagine making his Morty fight.

He didn't even think of him as his Morty, he didn't belong to him. He was just Morty.

"Rick?" Came a feeble voice. "Are you okay?"

Grey eyes looked up, scanning the figure above him before turning to vomit.

"Geez, Rick…" Morty sighed and rubbed his back as he vomited; he winced and moved away from his touch. "You need to stop, Rick."

"I'm sorry." He mumbled between attempts of keeping his alcohol-stomach bile mix of vomit in. Slowly he set his head back down against the pillow, it barely sank. As if Rick were just made of air.

"Why this time?" Morty murmured, moving his hair away from his mouth as not to get vomit in it.

Once again he looked up to Morty and let out a soft laugh, and even though he was laughing you could still tell that he was upset. "Why not?" He mused."

"At least go to your room…"

"No." Rick giggled.

"Please." The brunet sighed as he moved to turn on the overhead light. Rick hissed slightly and covered his face as his head pounded. Morty silently cleaned up the vomit from the rug in the living room so Jerry and Beth wouldn't get upset.

He put an arm under Rick and pulled him up, making him walk toward his room. Nearly his entire weight was on Morty as they went down the hall to the side room that was connected to the garage. He lied Rick in bed and sighed, helping take off his shoes and put his flask up.

"Night Rick." Morty mumbled as he paced back towards the hall.

"Morty." Rick called softly. He paused in the doorway and looked back at him. "I love you."

"I love you too." With that he shut the door and turned off the lights; heading up to bed himself.

"Morty!" Jerry nearly screamed the next morning. God. It was too fuckin' early for this. With a groan he got out of bed and went downstairs. He went down the steps and rubbed his eyes as he was greeted by his father at the end of the stairs.

"Did Rick get sick last night?" He asked sharply.

"No." Morty yawned calmly.

"Did you?"

"No."

"Then who did?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"I don't know Dad."

"Don't sass me." He hissed and hit the side of his head. Morty winced and held the side of his head as Rick emerged from the kitchen.

"Stop lying and tell me the truth."

"I'm not." He whispered and kept his eyes on the floor.

"At least look at me when you lie."

"I'm not lying!" He accidentally shouted, looking up to him then.

Jerry slapped him hard then.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Rick shouted and immediately moved over to them, ripping Jerry away from the kid with ease. He knelt down to see Morty's cheek, he pulled his shaky hand away from his cheek. "Let me see, Mort." He whispered. He sighed as he took his hand in his, his cheek was already turning purple from bruising.

Rick slowly moved away from Morty to walk up to Jerry.

"I'm sick of your shit, and I know Morty is too. If you even do something remotely close to that again we're leaving."

"What do you mean we?" Jerry growled, getting in Rick's face. "You can't just take my son."

"I can take better care of him than you can, obviously."
"You don't have custody of him."

"Don't need custody on another planet shitlord."

"You're not taking my son from me."

"Fucking watch me."