AN: Here we are...I never published this but I actually wrote it after the first episode of season two. Which I watched about a year ago now. So here it is. Some stuff that's probably incredibly This is not RickMorty because I don't ship paedophilia, so gtfo if you're looking for that. Plus it's incest. Ew. Anyway, here we go.
-AP

"Rick, can I ask you something?" Morty had said it suddenly, after Summer had gone out and his parents were at work. Rick glanced at him. Morty was, of course, the type of kid to ask questions, but he also tended to be absolutely and completely blunt about it. He never asked to ask, and the fact that the boy might actually have a serious question unnerved his grandpa slightly. "Uh...sure?"

"Do you love us?" It was cautious and quiet, as if he wouldn't have dared to say it, and it hit Rick like somebody had slapped him in the face hard with a wet fish. The scientist blinked for a second and sat up, looking at his assistant and squinting as if he was trying to decipher such a simple question. "...What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Do you love us? I mean it. Do you want to be here? Do you...do you even love me?" This entire conversation was like somebody was beating the shit out of Rick, and he even flinched a little. Love was a word he'd hated for a long time. One he didn't use. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't known the meaning of 'love' for quite a long time, actually. "Uh..."

"Look, Rick, I...I've been thinking. About that thing...That memory...Where you saved me. And...other stuff. Is that just because you need me as a cloaking device, Rick? Even if I am the Mortiest Morty, or whatever, it's still...You could've like, stopped existing." Rick sighed and pulled out his flask, taking a swig. If he didn't have alcohol soon, he'd die from just how awkward and icky this made him feel. "Morty, listen, it's not that complicated." He said simply, wiping his mouth. "You were floating through hypothetical nothingness and I was the only other person there."

"Yeah so? That doesn't mean anything, Rick! I'm sorry, I know you mean a lot to Mom, but I don't want you staying here over some fucking...Obligation, okay?!" The teenager was getting heat up and stood, gesturing wildly. Rick sighed and stood up.

"Morty, you're not a fucking obligation, sit down." He said, placing his hands on his grandson's soldiers and forcing him back onto the couch. "If we're gonna have this conversation you need to get a little self con-fucking-troll." Morty looked like he was going to protest, but clamped his mouth shut at the last bit, leaning back and crossing his arms in the way that tantrum-ing teenagers tended to.

"Look, you're my Morty. And yeah, maybe the other Ricks barely give a shit, I wouldn't be surprised, a lot of them see their Mortys as a fashion statement, or an object, or a pet." He took a deep breath and threw himself back down. "But there's more than my hate of governments that makes me want the Council to kiss my ass, Morty."

"I guess what I'm saying is...You're not replaceable and you're not an object. You're my Morty. You matter to me, otherwise I wouldn't trust you with all the shit I do. I don't know where this self-depreciation BULLCRAP came from, or what made it exist, but yeah, of course I...Of course I fucking love you. I love your sister. I love your Mom. I even love your dumbass of a Dad sometimes." Morty smiled at him, and Rick coughed. "If you tell them I said that, you're dead."

"Yeah, of course." Morty said, smile still staying. Rick narrowed his eyes at how smug his grandson looked, and then shrugged to himself before taking another chug.
"Point being, you're my family. I care about you. Sometimes I wish I could brush off your little piece of shit ass like all the other Ricks but..." He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. "I guess that's what makes me the Rickest Rick, huh?"

"Yeah." Morty said again. He was still sitting there with the smug look, and let out a happy sigh. "I guess I just needed to...hear that." How slow he was talking was worrying Rick slightly, not that he'd ever let it show. His grandson was acting like he was walking on thin ice, careful, as if he was in some kind of danger. "I mean, it's pretty obvious, Morty. I don't particularly like murdering beloved Kings and, and blowing up scammers, it just leads to, y'know, it leads to the law chasing my tail. Which isn't a new thing, but if I didn't care, I w-wouldn't just, I wouldn't just do that for the fun, y'know?" His stutter became more prominent, and he hated it.

He hated that his stutter made it obvious when he was rambling. When he cared. It caused him so much unnecessary bother. Rick noticed that Morty flinched and wrapped his arms around himself. He tried to look normal though; Something he'd picked up from his grandfather, no doubt. He sighed. "I...Sorry for mentioning it." The scientist said simply. Morty shook his head. "It's fine. It's...All that stuff with the King doesn't bother me anymore, you know? It was..."

"Doesn't matter how long it was. These things last forever. I'm just glad I taught you self-defense. Otherwise..." He let himself trail off and let out a low whistle. His grandson gave him a hesitant smile. It took Rick a minute to realize this was the time to shut up. "A-anyway, what does it matter? Point is, Morty, I wouldn't defend you if, if I didn't care."

"I know! I know, it's just..." Morty stopped for a minute. "I just...I mean...you left Mom a-and Grandma, what's stopping you from leaving me? Why am I, me, one of the apparent DUMBEST things in this family, so important?! I never...! Jesus, Rick, I don't know." His arms were getting tighter around himself and he brought a hand up to run it through his hair. Rick froze. He didn't know what to do or what to say; He was never good at this. He was never good at sounding gentle. That was always...That was always what his wife did.

"And, it's like, what am I s-supposed t-t-to say to you, R-Rick, w-when I know I-I'm nothing important t-to y-y-y-you." He'd started crying now, bringing his other arm to his face. Rick held his hands out, still unsure of what to do, eyebrows turned up in concern. "Morty, come on, you know I'm no good when you g-get like this-!" He almost pleaded as if it would help.

It wasn't unknown for Morty to panic or get upset. He'd been an anxious baby and an anxious kid and grown into an anxious teenager. Rick admitted it was probably his fault; He'd never been the most mentally stable of people, even when he was a kid. That was one of the many reasons he never actually wanted kids, but that plan backfired on him. Lucky Beth turned out alright, and her kids were the ones stuck with the hereditary problems Rick hoped wouldn't be a problem.

Most people assumed it was Jerry's fault, Summer and Morty being how they were. And a lot of it was. Obviously. He's their father. But he was just having a pretty much constant mid-life crisis, and nature-vs-nurture paid an important part in any kid's life.

So long story made short, Rick basically caused Summer to be a disillusioned asshole and for Morty to be...Well, Morty. And he felt bad about it, because he needed 15-ish years to gather HIS shit together and he still stuttered constantly and had the occasional (albeit private and alone) panic attack over stupid shit. How the fuck was he supposed to help Morty when he can't even help himself?

Rick gathered his thoughts eventually, and let out a long-winded sigh. "Morty, Morty, please, uh, don't pass out, or anything...? Y-you, you gotta breathe, Morty, it's kind of a necessity." If he knew anything about anxiety, he wasn't helping. Morty covered his face with a pillow. Oh shit, really? Was the universe just trying to make Rick feel like the shittiest person on Earth?! Hiding his breakdowns was also something Rick tended to do, and now he just felt like human garbage.

"M-Morty! D-DAMMIT MORTY, I DON'T KNOW W-WHAT I'M S-SUPPOSED TO DO, M-MORTY! Like, like how am I supposed t-to help you here? I c-can't even s-stop fucking stuttering, Morty! J-just-! You gotta get fucking c-control of your e-emotions! B-because I can't just tell you what to do here! Look at me! I'm an alcoholic single scientist with basically no paying job 'working' in my daughter's fucking garage after not seeing her for GOD KNOWS HOW LONG! I-I'm n-no role m-model!" He was just babbling at this point, but it seemed to get through to something.

It took five minutes of meaningless yelling for Morty to calm down. "Oh, thank God, I thought for sure you'd pass out or something, like I don't know CPR, Morty, I can't fix that." He took a deep breath and then sighed. "Jesus Christ. I, uh..."

"If you're gonna say something, just say it, Rick. Spit it out!" Morty said. He was aggressive, but his voice was still hoarse from the anxiety attack, and the outside of his eyes was still a sore red. "I-I'm sorry. For...for making you feel like that. And not being able to help." Rick didn't make eye contact when he said it, glaring at the wall as if it was it's fault instead of his. Morty let out a sigh. "It's...fine. Just, just do me a favor and get me a beer?"

Rick raised his eyebrows. "Uh, I mean, a-as your responsible carer-!" He started. In all honesty, he didn't personally think that drinking would do any good for his grandson at the moment. He knew, he'd tried it before. Morty let out a bitter laugh. "Rick, you've never been responsible and I'm exhausted to shit, get me a beer."

There was no arguing with that.

AN: I'm literally obsessed with starting these tiny oneshot things. I might have more, I might not. Haven't decided yet. But here it is. Take it as you will. Have fun, read it, show it to your friends, review it, hate it, report it, whatever. Just enjoy whatever you do with it! Review if you liked, and thanks for reading!
-AP