Disclaimer: I don't own Rick and Morty.

Spoilers: "Auto Erotic Assimilation", 2x3

Summary: Just one way that ending could have gone, after the credits rolled...

Warning: Dark themes: Content contains attempted suicide.

Author's Note: Constructive criticism is always welcome. (Characters in character? Can anything be changed to be better, fit the story in canon, ect.?) (Thanks in advance!) :) Also, I have researched for this story, but if you have any personal inputs (without getting too personal of course), I'd love to hear them. I want this story to be informative, so that people know what to do in this kind of situation. Since this is is a very sensitive and critically important topic that has the potential for saving lives, I want to be as accurate as possible. That being said, I'm no expert. I'm just relaying what I've read thus far.

CHAPTER ONE

Usually the door to the garage was open when Morty got home from school. Today, however, the garage door was closed, so Morty had to enter by way of the door with the "Knock First" sign on it. Of course he never knocked, but Rick never bothered him about it.

Rick was sleeping at his work station. Wait...what? Rick never slept at his workstation. He was always working at his workstation. And what was that...yellow stuff, that was leaking from his lips, and pooling on the tabletop?

"Uh….Rick?" Morty cautiously approached his grandfather, and poked him. To his horror, Rick slumped over further, and the yellow liquid began to create a foam.

"Oh, my God! Rick?" Morty backed away immediately with terror. Had Rick passed out again from too much alcohol? Was he just sleeping it off? Or was he...Morty shook his head against the thought, and quickly shook Rick's shoulder. Again, there was no response, and it was beginning to dawn on Morty that something was horrifically, terribly wrong.

"R-Rick? You okay, man?" Dread pooling in his chest, Morty quickly felt for a pulse. To his relief, it was there. Faint, and barely fluttering, but there...though Rick's skin was clammy-cold, and there was hardly any sign of breath. And his lips were turning blue. "Oh dear God R-Rick, what did you do to yourself, Rick?"

Morty's head was spinning. His Dad was out golfing; his mom was at work; neither one of them kept their cell phones on (something Morty didn't understand at all) and Summer was probably at the mall and wouldn't want to be bothered. He knew he had to do something Rick would hate him for later: call 911. He ran to the kitchen and snatched up the phone.

"Hello, 911, how may I help you?" asked the operator on the line.

"Uhhh…" Morty's head spun and his stomach ached with fear and dread. He'd never done this before. What should he say? "M-m-my grandpa won't wake up, uh, I think he t-t-took some-something but I'm not sure what, uh, he drinks a lot-" Morty heard his voice crack as he spoke and forced himself to add, "There's some y-yellow liquid type stuff on his mouth and, uh, I-I-I- uh th-think he's in a c-c-coma." Dammit Morty be a man. Do NOT lose your shit right now. Rick needs you, dammit! Be a man!

"Okay, son, do you know how much he took, or when he took it? Are your parents at home?"

"N-no," Morty felt himself faltering, "My, um, uh, Mom's at work, and D-Dad's out golfing...I think?" Dammit Morty you sound like an idiot.

He tried to listen as the operator told him the do's and don'ts: Don't put him in the shower, he might go into shock, and this could kill him; Make sure he's sitting upright or lying on his side; Don't force him to vomit; Ifhe wakes up don't give him anything;Keep constant track of his vital signs…Make sure you have any empty pill bottles or anything that signifies what he's taken...Keep his head tilted backwards and chin upright so that his airway passages remain clear….Remain calm, because if he wakes up, he'll need you to be there for him...

Morty dropped the phone to the floor and ran back to the garage, trying to ignore the bitter laughter rising in his throat. Rick never needed me before this...at least somehow I'm helping him. Fighting back tears he pulled Rick up to a sitting position. Morty cringed and winced inwardly as Rick's head lilted lightly to the side, and he gently positioned it against the back of the chair to ensure a comfortable position. The yellow spittle had dried on his chin, and his mouth was slightly open. Morty held his hand abruptly in front of Rick's lips. A whisp of air brushed his palm, but just a whisp. "Oh my G-God, Grandpa Rick…." Morty shuddered and sank to his knees on the floor. Shaking uncontrollably, he bound his arms tightly around his grandfather's knees as he felt the world come crashing in. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the end of all their crazy new adventures. Maybe he would fail at this too, just like he did at everything else.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Relief flooded Morty as he ran to the door. Two EMTs were waiting there with equipment. "Where is your grandfather, son?" one of them asked. Morty lead them immediately to the garage. Feeling as though he were in a dream, Morty stood by and watched as the EMTs work carefully on Rick, before easing him gently onto a stretcher, and supplying oxygen to him as they quickly wheeled him out to the street where the ambulance was waiting.

Morty watched silently as they lifted Rick, face ashen and as still as a corpse, into the ambulance, and didn't even realize that Summer was standing next to him, watching the whole thing go down, until she spoke, making him jump: "What? Wait-are you kidding me? Is that Grandpa Rick? Oh my God, Morty! What-Why in God's name are they putting him in an ambulance? What the hell happened? Morty! Why won't you talk to me?" She was shaking him, roughly, and he still couldn't answer.

"Morty? What the hell? Are you okay? What the hell happened to Grandpa Rick?"

"Oh my God, S-s-Summer!" Suddenly he came to and Summer was standing there right in front of him, wide-eyed with alarm. "Oh man, I...am I ever so glad that you're home!" Relieved like never before, he hugged his sister tight, like it was the end of the world (much to her shock and disgust), but she let him nonetheless. She was even more alarmed when she pulled away from her brother to find him close to tears.

"Morty, what-"

"C-come with me Summer, please...I gotta go with him," Morty said instead in response, as he rushed off immediately to join Rick's side in the ambulance.

"Uh...okay, alright, I'm coming," Summer awkwardly agreed, as she joined her younger brother in the ambulance, which sped off for the hospital. Morty held his breath and shut his eyes, trying not to think about where he was and where they were going. He really wasn't one to pray, but he hoped they'd get to the hospital in time.