Yep a Rick and Morty/Doctor Who crossover. Because why the balls not. Alright, there are actually some lines from Rick and Morty that inspired this, but more on that within the fic.

I've never written anything related to Rick and Morty before, so if I make any glaring errors or egregious mistakes, please point them out to me.

"Hey, Rick, I think something's wrong with my computer. Can you take a look at it?"

Without looking up from the radioactive glow in front of him, Rick replied, "I don't need to take a look at it to tell you it's a piece of shit, Morty! It was obsolete before it ever left the store! Also, if you're gonna look at alien porn without even an Earth anti-virus, your days are numbered, Morty! They're numbered!"

Morty blushed furiously. "I wasn't- I had- C-can you fix it?"

"I could fix an eight-track stereo, and it would be about as technologically advanced. Is that what you want, Morty? You wanna do your homework and get off with an eight-track player?" Rick demanded.

"What's an eight-track?"

"It's garbage, just like you!"

"Rick, I really need my computer to work..."

"Then you should have stuck to Earth tits! Because now it's dead!" Rick grabbed the computer and threw it against the wall.

"Why'd you do that, Rick? Maybe I could have taken it back to the store. Maybe Dad kept the receipt."

Rick snorted. "Yeah, and maybe Jerry can induce cold fusion in his bathroom. Even if your dad wasn't the human equivalent of himself, Somalia wouldn't want your computer. Let's go."

Ignoring the green glow that even Morty was clever enough to shield his gonads from, Rick stood up from his workbench. He dug through the pockets of his lab coat, swearing, until he found his keys. Once that was accomplished, he turned to his ship made of garbage.

"Where're we going?" Morty asked.

"Jesus, do I have to spell it out for you? T-O space G-E-T space Y-O-U space A space N-E-W space C-O-M-P-U-T-E-R."

Morty tilted his head. "Can you spell it again, a little slower?"

Rick slow-clapped. "The state of the American education system, ladies and gentlemen. Let's allocate another billion dollars from it to the president's space laser boner fantasy. We're going to get you a computer that can withstand your browsing habits. While we're there, I guess I'll upgrade some of my shit."

"If Morty's getting a new computer, I deserve one, too. I might actually use it for schoolwork. Of course I'll use it for porn, but not only porn."

Summer stood in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. There was no arguing with that body language. Rick rolled his eyes and bitched, throwing things around his lab and kicking his vehicle, but eventually he shouted, "Fine, Summer, get in the goddamn ship!"

To accommodate herself, Summer had to throw a dozen empty beer bottles out of her seat. "Grandpa Rick, they have this great new invention called recycling. You should really look into it."

From the driver's seat, Rick replied, "You know what's even easier than washing out a hundred bottles a week and sorting them? Throwing them into the sun. Which is why I do that. Not everything has to be a-a-a Rube Goldberg!"

"How is flying 93 million miles easier than walking to the recycling bin?"

"I don't have to use my legs. And away we go!"

Several light years later, Morty finally realized they weren't in Kansas anymore. Or the planet Earth. Or the solar system.

"R-Rick, uh, I thought we were going to Circuit Shack or Radio City to get me a computer. Remember?"

"I remember that's where your shitty original computer came from. We're going for the upgrade."

"Sweet," Summer chimed in. "I'm going to have better tech than the nerds. Not that I care what they think of me."

"You will when they're rich and swimming in poon," Rick replied.

"Gross!"

"True. You don't think Steve Jobs' zombie couldn't get anything with a pulse?"

Morty gasped, "Steve Jobs is a zombie?!"

Rick shrugged. "I dunno. Wasn't- wasn't there a thing? iZombie? Eh, vampires and mermaids are real, zombies should be real, too. I could make zombies."

"NO!" Summer and Morty screamed simultaneously.

"Grandpa Rick, are we ever going to get there? Is this, like, the computer store at the edge of forever?" Summer asked.

Morty watched chunks of sad, lifeless asteroids spin past the windshield. It didn't seem like there was anything out here, but he knew from months of adventures that any second now they could stumble upon a wild space port teeming with aliens, adventure, and amazing technology that would give him all the porn his little fourteen-year-old heart could desire.

And Rick definitely knew where he was going. Morty would bet his, well, he didn't really own anything of value right then, but if he did, he'd bet it. Rick wasn't just cruising the depths of space, hoping to bump into a party or a bar.

Summer kicked the back of Rick's seat. "Grandpa Rick!"

"Goddamn it, Summer, it-it's not like we're driving through Iowa! Even Morty can sit still and bask in the wonders of the universe. Look at him. He's up to his eyeballs in ADHD and he isn't even fidgeting. So watch some nebulae or consider how tiny and insignificant you are in the face of the universe, and the next time you kick my chair, I'm ejecting you."

Summer scoffed and pulled out her phone. "I could have had Amazon deliver a new computer by now."

"You know w-what, once robots start delivering your shit, your society's one disenfranchised drone away from needing Sarah Connor. It's only a matter of time before Skynet starts bombing us with dildos and Kindles."

"Like on that planet we went to where the robots rebelled and humans were the slaves and we had to wrap ourselves in aluminum foil so we wouldn't get enslaved. Remember, remember that planet, Rick? I didn't like that one," Morty said.

"Yes, Morty, I can remember back to last week. That's what happens when you give robots too much responsibility and intimate knowledge of what gets you off."

Summer scrunched up and raised the phone inches from her eyes, signalling the withdrawal of her participation in any future conversation with her brother and grandfather over sex toys and robots. She satisfied her boredom by texting, momentarily wondered how long it would take the texts to return to her friends' phones on Earth—if they even would—and then decided she didn't give a shit. Just the act of bitching to her friends millions of miles away was more satisfying than any reply they'd have for her.

"M-Morty, it's gonna get a little bumpy. We're moving into an area of low dimensional stability so buckle up. Summer, I still didn't put a seat belt back there, because that's where Jerry sits, so, uh, hold onto something and protect your head."

Summer didn't have to be told twice. Her phone disappeared down her bra, where it would have airbags to protect it. Her arms now free, Summer clutched onto Morty's seat, fastening like a barnacle. As for "protecting her head" there really wasn't a whole lot she could do to save it if Rick's empties turned into missiles in severe turbulence.

Morty had just managed to click his belt into place when a low-grade rumble began to shake the ship. It felt like being on the tines of a freshly struck tuning fork, vibrations ringing through Morty's teeth and bones. He could hear the change clinking together in his pocket.

"Geez, Rick, what's going on? Are we in trouble?"

"I fly this bitch through black holes, Morty! This isn't even a spring breeze!" Rick replied.

Somewhere ahead of them—it was impossible to say exactly how far in the vastness of space—a light flashed momentarily. Morty was about to ask what is was when a brighter, longer lasting glow erupted off the starboard side of the ship. This flash was impressive enough to catch Summer's attention, too.

"Whoa, it's like a rave out there," Summer said.

Rick snorted. "First of all, what you call a rave, I call playing flashlight tag. Secondly, show the confluence of dimensions a-and all the cool shit they bring some re-respect."

"Are those lights the cool shit, because we could have just stayed on Earth and-"

Something streaked past the ship, burning bright white. "Wow, that looked really close!"

"Yeah, some of it c-comes in really hot. And some of it just floats around all Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Depends on the home universe exit velocity, I guess," Rick replied nonchalantly.

"Oh my God, this was such a bad idea, we're gonna get killed with space garbage or vibrated to death before we ever get to the computer store Rick imagined when he was drunk!" Summer cried.

Morty was just about to agree with his sister when something dead ahead gave him a spark of hope. Again, because being in space was even worse than being in open ocean for lack of reference points, it was difficult to say they were headed for a decent-sized planet far away and not a shitty meteor right around the corner. Morty poignantly remembered Tiny Planet and smacking directly into it.

But he crossed his fingers and prayed they were almost somewhere solid and stable.

Because all this vibrating was really starting to get to him.

Like, really.

In his pants.

A lot.

"Jesus, relax. We'll be there in thirty seconds. I'm sure you've both got enough experience to hold it off that long," Rick said.

As the ship made its final approach to what did indeed turn out to be a planet of rocky origin and not just a stupid asteroid, the shaking died down to non-stimulating levels. Morty and Summer were careful to avoid looking at each other as the ship descended. They stared out separate sides of the ship, each trying to get a better fix on the terrain below them.

"What is this place?" Summer asked.

"The only planet anywhere in the system. Which is why it's the space version of the Pacific garbage patch. A-a lot of the shit floating around tends to wind up here eventually. Makes it a great place to shop."

"Ugh, I should've known it wasn't a real store with air conditioning and customer service."

"Do you like waiting six hours to buy a phone plan from an asshole in a blue shirt, Summer? Is that how you want to spend your life?!" Rick demanded.

"No, but I don't have to wade through garbage from other universes! I can sit down on an actual chair," Summer replied.

"Come on, Summer, it could be fun. Maybe-maybe we'll find some neat stuff," Morty said.

"And maybe we'll all get space AIDS from another dimension's dirty needles and-"

"Everybody shut up before I leave you here and tell your parents you ran off with a traveling band of Peruvian flute players!" Rick shouted. "Summer, stay here if you want. See if I give a shit. Just don't touch anything. I finally found a radio station that works in the Triangulum Galaxy and I don't want it replaced with the Bieb."

"No way, the last time you left me in the car, I saw a melted baby and spider monsters."

"And she ruined ice cream," Morty added.

"I also ensured peace between humans and spider-kind! Why don't I get any credit for that?"

"Because that ice cream was top 10 in the multi-verse and now it's like bottom four! Fuck peace! Ice cream is there for you when peace treaties inevitably get turned into toilet paper," Rick said.

"That's-"

The ship landed with a jolting bump. Arguments about the value of dairy treats over peace treaties were stowed as Summer and Morty waited for Rick to release them into the interstellar junkyard.

"B-before anybody goes anywhere, remember the atmosphere is thinner out there than on Earth. You can still breathe, Morty, so don't worry. It's like being on Denali. It's a mountain, Morty! In Alaska! No, it's not the highest mountain on Earth. Y-you know what? Go crazy, Morty! Jump around in the low oxygen environment and see what happens."

Rick opened the ship's hatch, releasing its crew into the wild. Morty took a deep breath of alien air and found it not a whole lot different from Earth air. He thought it maybe gave him a weird taste at the back of his throat, but that could have easily been his imagination.

"See, Morty? You can live here without supplemental oxygen so long as you don't overexert yourself. Now help grandpa dismember some robots."

"Sure, Rick, where- Wait, what?!"

"Don't worry, Morty, they're really actually robots. Not bureaucrats or any other metaphors. That's where we're getting the parts for your computers. From highly advanced robots that came from another dimension."

"Uh..."

"They're dead. The robots. They're not gonna care. We just need a few complete helmets, or even broken ones with intact circuits, and I can make great computers. The best."

"You're really selling that hard, Rick," Morty said.

"Because you're always a pussy about robots, Morty! Believe me, I've been harvesting parts off them for months. They came hurtling from another universe, and most of them are nuts and bolts and not much else. I'll show you, you little robo-PETA pain in my ass."

Rick stomped away from the ship. Summer shrugged and followed him. Morty hemmed and hawed and weighed his hormones against his PTSD. The thought of being bereft of a computer while Rick and Summer had access to all the perverted wonders of the universe finally pushed him. Making a high-pitched groan until the thin atmosphere wore him down, Morty chased after his family.

Luckily for Morty, the path to Rick's secret store of robot parts was mostly downhill. He managed to catch up to Summer and Rick without popping a lung, passing out from hypoxia, or puking all over himself. Though it was close on the last one.

"Y-you're such a good listener, Morty. Don't overexert yourself! Remember me saying that five minutes ago? How much are you gonna be able to carry now?"

Morty, bent over with his hands on his knees, was too busy panting to reply to Rick's bitching. Said bitching continued all the while Morty was trying to catch his breath, and didn't end until well after Morty was able to stand up and walk again.

Eventually, Rick had to stop his kvetching and save his breath for the crater wall in front of him. On past treks, he'd been at least pleasantly buzzed and not entirely aware of how climbing the crater felt like scaling the peak of Everest. This time, he'd been too busy yelling at his grandkids to get drunk and therefore felt the stitch in his side and the burn in his lungs as his geriatric body struggled to suck oxygen from the starved planet.

"M-Morty, can you still transform into a car? I removed it after you almost crushed several of your classmates? Shit, that would be so useful right now."

By the time they reached the top of the crater, the three of them were dizzy, weak in the knees, and missing the sweet, sweet twenty-one percent oxygen content of home. They each collapsed into the rocky soil, gasping.

"It's cool, we can just slide down," Rick said once the spots disappeared from his eyes. He inched over the lip of the crater and went sledding.

"I'm so happy I wore white pants," Summer replied. Nevertheless, she followed Rick's lead.

Rick dusted himself off and looked around. "Huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Summer asked. She tried to see what caught Rick's attention and couldn't see anything except a bunch of stupid rocks.

"This is definitely the right crater. Look, here's the flask I lost last time I was here. Guess it's a lot easier to find stuff when you're sober."

"That's great! Let's get the robots and get out of here so I can wash my pants!"

"That's the 'huh.' They should be scattered all around here." Rick began to wander deeper into the crater. "Oh..."

"Oh what?" Morty asked.

"Oh, shit."

"Grandpa Rick, can you please just finish a sentence!" Summer yelled.

"The robots are gone but these footprints definitely match them and they're fresh. Fuck. We're gonna have to leave this reality and find a new one. Let's go home and get your mom."

Summer's mouth fell open. "W-w-what?!"

"Yeah, I wasn't super upfront about the robots. They're Cybermen, part of a collective that makes U-Unity seem like a real lone wolf. Any universe that has them usually doesn't have much of anything else, at least when it comes to higher intelligence. I thought they were all harmless and deactivated, I screwed up, I'll admit it."

"S-so we have to stop them! Rick, I don't want to move to another universe and have to bury myself again!" Morty began to hyperventilate.

"Alright, Morty, calm down. We'll try your way first. I've probably got a spare neutrino bomb on the ship. If we can blow them all up before they spread, we'll be okay."

Morty and Summer were already scrambling up the crater, kicking scree loose in their desperate climb. Rick sighed and fished a flask from his lab coat. He drank as he sedately followed his grandchildren.

None of them noticed the blue police box careening madly through the sky.

TBC

Author's List O' References:

In the before-times (1960-1980), eight tracks were music-playing cartridges that predated casettes and CDs.

Rube Goldberg machines are absurdly complicated devices that do simple things, like 50 steps to crack an egg.

Steve Jobs is most likely not a zombie and iZombie has nothing to do with Apple.

Sarah Connor and Skynet are from the Terminator franchise.

Thus Spoke Zarathustra (Also known as Also sprach Zarathustra) is music from 2001: A Space Odyssey.

The Pacific garbage patch is a huge vortex of humanity's crap that ended up coalescing in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Denali is the highest mountain in North America.