Disclaimer: I don't own "Rick and Morty".
Warning: Rated K+ for language.
A/N: Have a bit of "Rick and Morty" fluff! And no, this is NOT a ship fic. Ew. Gross.
"NO ! Stop it! I won't! Get the fuck off of me you mind-fucking motherfucker!"
The words shook Morty from out of a deep sleep, none of them making any sense, and sending waves of feer deep into his core. It was Rick's voice, muffled, but still audible enough so that he could hear it, through his bedroom wall. What was going on? Morty had never heard Rick yell like that.
Morty tensed in bed, listening, everything quiet once again, wondering if maybe he'd been hearing things…
"NO I said! Don't! I'll kill you, you goddamned motherfucking son-of-a-bitch! I'll kill you for what you did to me! You hear me?! I'll KILL ALL OF YOU!"
Who was Rick talking to? His voice was shrill and full of panic, and this worried Morty more than anything. Rick never panicked. He always knew how to handle everything. Except right now, Rick didn't sound like he was the kind of man who knew how to handle everything. Rick sounded afraid. Very afraid. Of what, Morty had no idea, but for Rick to sound like that, it had to be pretty bad.
Was there an intruder in their house? If there was, and Rick was scared of it, Morty knew he was better off staying right where he was. Except, if Rick was in trouble, and he was the only one who knew, he'd have to be the one to let the others know. Morty took a deep breath and did the only thing he could do: he got out of bed and tiptoed, as quiet as could be, down the hall towards Rick's room. Heart beating in his throat, Morty held his breath and peeked cautiously through the crack in the doorway.
He could see a figure flailing about. "NO!" came the shout from Rick again. It was strange; he didn't hear a scuffling (except for the ruffling of sheets) and he didn't hear anybody saying anything threatening. Getting braver, Morty pushed the door open a bit, just enough so that he could see the bed, but so that he couldn't be seen by who was there.
"STOP! Don't! Get away! GO!" The scene before him was something he was not expecting in the least: Rick, alone in his bed, flailing about in the bedsheets and shouting at the air.
Morty stared, speechless, suddenly understanding: Rick was the only one there, and Rick was having a nightmare.
This wasn't going to be easy. Morty gathered up all the strength he had, marched over to Rick's bed, and stood watching his grandfather helplessly writhing about in the bed. Beads of sweat had caked on Rick's forehead, and his hands nearly struck Morty as he threw them wildly left and right, attacking whatever assailant was in his dream. Whatever it was had to be pretty bad for Rick to get this worked up, Morty realized sadly. He had never heard Rick sound so scared in his life.
There wasn't any way he was going to get ahold of Rick's wrists but he had to prevent his grandfather somehow from hurting himself. Morty's eyes fell on the full glass of water on the tiny table besides the bed, and without a second thought he quickly snatched the glass, and splashed the water at once in Rick's face.
Rick howled so loudly Morty feared his parents and sister would wake up, and then gasped as though he'd been under water holding his breath for a year. His eyes snapped open, but what Morty saw there didn't even look like Rick; they looked like the eyes of a very scared man, a man that Morty didn't know.
Rick was shaking, and his breath was heavy and erratic, and Morty didn't know what to do, he had never seen Rick like this before. "Rick, I'm s-sorry but I had to do it, you were-"
Immediately he was shoved off the bed to the floor, and the next thing he was aware of was the sound of loud retching coming from the other side of the bed. "Fuck," Rick spat from under his breath once he had finishd heaving. He then sat very still for a very long time, so long that Morty wasn't sure if he should talk or leave or what.
"R...Rick?"
"WHAT?" Rick's bark was so loud that Morty flinched.
"Um, I-I'm sorry I-"
"Get the fuck out of here Morty," Rick snapped before turning over abruptly in the bed. "I-I don't need you got it? J-just get the fuck out of here."
"B-but Rick-" Morty tried to speak through the lump in his throat. "Uh...do you...wanna, wanna talk about it, maybe-"
"Are-are you hearing impaired or something kid? I said get the fuck out!" Morty ducked as a pillow nearly hit him square in the face as it flew across the room.
"I-I just…." Morty bit his tongue, knowing he was pushing it, "...you looked really scared, um-"
"It's called a nightmare, dingbat, okay? I have a fever. That's all. It's a fever dream. You get them sometimes when you have the flu. It's nothing. IIIII-I can take care of myself, I'm not a child, you're the child, and children are the ones who get taken care of, got it? Good! You can go back to bed now."
"I-" For some reason Morty felt brave. "I-I'm not going anywhere Rick. I'm staying right here."
"You're overstaying your welcome Mortimer, I'd go while the getting is g-g-good-it's just the flu, for Chrisssakes-dammit-" Another fit ravaged his lithe frame, and Rick felt his insides nearly implode as he fought to keep down the bile rising in his gut. He fell back against the bed with exhaustion, and Morty, using this moment to its fullest, dared to reach a hand out and touch Rick's forehead. It was so hot he pulled away as though he'd gotten burnt. "Jeeze, Rick! You're on f-f-fire-"
"Temp of 102," Rick wheezed dryly. "Nothing to do except cough ride it out wheeze. A kid needs their sleep M-Morty and I'm pretty good about going alone. I've done it for years."
"But-" Morty felt a lump in his throat and his stomach felt like dead weight.
"I'll be fine," Rick insisted, his voice hoarse from the coughing, but he was shivering, and Morty shook his head, not buying it, any of it.
"You're just a human, Rick," Morty said with a confidence he wasn't aware he had. "Just like all the rest of us….and every human needs someone."
"Th-that's where you-you're wrong," Rick sputtered through his shivers, "I d-d-d-don't need anyone."
Morty wasn't having it. He went around to the other side of the bed and climbed in. He knew Rick might throw a fit, but he didn't care. He was tired. "I'm tired," said Morty. "I'm gonna sleep right here."
"Oh no you're not-" Rick spat through chattering teeth, but he was too weak to move Morty away.
"I'm not leaving," Morty said, leaning against his friend, "you're my Grandpa, and you're sick...I'm staying right here until the morning."
"You're an id-id-idiot," Rick managed to mumble through the next series of coughs and wheezes, but he didn't move, and Morty smiled as he felt himself nodding off.
"I know," said Morty.
But he was grinning.
