There's a Light

Author's Note: Again, takes place after "Rick's Death." This is the last story in my "timeline," so I tried to give it an uplifting ending. This was inspired by the song "Shattered" by Trading Yesterday (it's the most uplifting song ever). I'll still write more, but this is last chronologically. Anyway, enough of my ranting, enjoy the story.

Morty wandered into the garage, making sure to delicately close the door this late at night. He flicked on the desklight at the workbench, which hurt his eyes from the sudden luminosity in the deep darkness. Morty couldn't sleep, not with the thoughts of his deceased grandfather invading his mind.

It had been two years since Rick committed suicide, and Morty's life mostly returned to the pre-Rick routine. However, his grades did moderately improve (from Ds and Fs to Cs and the occasional B), and he even found himself on the junior varsity baseball team at his school, which explained his slightly more muscular build. He spent more time with his parents, having more opportunities to without Rick. However, Morty saw Summer less, as she had moved into a dormitory at her college, which was decently far away. The occasional visits to his sister's old room still brought him a slight longing, the area immaculate from emptiness.

He looked at the workbench, the metallic exterior slightly shimmering in the light. He's avoided the garage for quite some time. He almost forgot what it looked like. Now he was all of a suddenly nostalgic about what was inside, urging to look back at the memories with his beloved grandfather.

Even with little illumination, Morty could see that the metal shelves lining the walls were empty. He walked over to one of the shelves and ran his finger across the smooth surface. It came back dusty. In fact, the entire place felt abandoned. Everything was empty, yet dusty and neglected.

Morty pulled out the office chair tucked into the workbench, sat down, and pulled himself in. The abandoned cold came as a relief to him, contrasting from the hot summer night. He could almost feel Rick in the very spot he was sitting in, usually working on some new invention or just getting drunk.

However, the realization that his grandfather wasn't there emotionally drained him. He felt glued to the chair. Once in awhile, he would go through bouts of missing Rick, almost at random. Morty prepared himself to travel down that same road again.

His heel hit another cold metal mass by the workbench. Morty turned in the chair and found it to be a drawer he accidentally kicked open. His energy was somewhat renewed by curiosity and he started digging around in the space. It was mostly filled with torn papers covered in indecipherable handwriting. Close to the bottom, he felt a stack of glossy rectangles and pulled it out.

The stack was of assorted photographs. The one at the top of the stack was a family photo of Rick Morty assumed as a kid. Even in the monochrome snapshot, he could still pick out his grandfather's signature unibrow and irritated glare. His parents looked even meaner, his mother to the right of him and his father to the left. They looked like a stereotypical 1920s family, save for the Hispanic looking father. Morty turned over the picture to find some neater handwriting scrawled in fading blue pen on the back.

Evelyn Knight

Angel Sanchez

Richard Sanchez

September 14, 1968

Morty removed the photo from the stack and analyzed the next one. It was one of Rick as a young adult, maybe about 25, with Bird Person, standing proudly over the flying saucer car. He could actually tell this time that his grandfather's hair wasn't always spiky or a weird gray-blue shade, as in the picture his gold blond hair was slicked back. His face, while it still contained a hostile demeanor, was a lot more relaxed and less tired looking. His smirk of satisfaction looked genuine and Morty smiled in return. A flip of the photograph found more writing, but this time messy again in a thick black ink.

My First Space Car (With Me and BP)

August 9, 1986

The successor to the picture was of one of a baby in a hospital and presumably its mother holding it. The baby had blue eyes like Rick and was showing wisps of white blond hair, even though the mother had red orange hair and bright green eyes. Morty immediately turned it over to find the label for the picture, written cursive in thin blue ink.

The Birth of Beth Sanchez to Rick Sanchez and Selene Locke

February 6, 1989

The final picture in the stack was the least crumpled or frayed at the edges, as it was a photo of him and Rick in the mega seed dimension. Tears began to prick at Morty's eyes and he let them fall, tired of holding them in for so long before.

His emotions quickly flipped from nostalgic to hopeless. He couldn't experience those adventures anymore. All that was left were memories. Even though Morty tried to focus on self improvement the past year, he still didn't feel fulfilled. Not like when Rick was around. The only person who really understood him.

After he allowed himself time to quietly sob and stain the photo with his tears, he slowly gathered the pictures into their former stack and placed them back into the open drawer, suddenly feeling exhausted. When he reached down, he felt something similar to tissue paper stuffed down in the bottom right corner. He dropped in the photographs and yanked out the paper, careful not to tear it.

He unfolded the tight ball of strikingly blue paper to find out they were uncompleted blueprints. After stretching the paper over the workbench, Morty concluded the plans to be for a new holo map of the galaxy. He dove back into the drawer and this time to the left, found a circular disk type object.

Morty placed it under the desklight. It looked finished on the outside, but pressing the button on the front of the shiny silver apparatus brought no function. Morty had seen plenty of holo maps before. He knew how they worked. He fetched a toolbox from the only not abandoned shelf and withdrew a screwdriver with a yellow handle. He used it to pry off the bottom of the device and investigate. The wiring was all wrong, he knew that much. Morty's spirits rose as he became enthralled with repairing the machine and completing the blueprints.

00000000

After what seemed like hours of fiddling around with the innards of the holo map, Morty tried one last time to see if it worked. He screwed the cover back on the bottom of the device and hesitantly pressed the button on the front.

To his pleasant surprise, the holo map powered up, and a brilliantly bright projection of the galaxy filled the room. Morty reached out and touched Saturn, the stats of the planet, such as the length of the days and the average temperature, coming up at his touch.

He felt exhilarated. His chest swelled with an abundant pride, like Rick in the photograph. Rick. This is what he passed on. This was his legacy. Morty was his legacy. He finally felt fulfilled. Morty knew it. This is what he was meant to do. Tears of pure joy streamed down his face at the string of epiphanies. He wanted to dance around the room, he felt so energized. The permanent tears on his heart finally felt like they were beginning to heal, adding to his already overwhelming feelings of completeness.

After a bit of relishing in the success, Morty peacefully placed the device on the workbench, switched off the desklight, and left the garage to tiptoe back to his room.

As he entered, he noticed that the sky turned a lighter blue, making way for the amber color of the emerging sun. Feeling more awake than ever, Morty sat on his bed and watched the sun rise, the dawn bathing him in its golden light.