As Unity evacuated towards Beta-7's quadrant with all 10,765,492,154 of their bodies packed into what ships they could command, they felt a new body join their collective, like an eye growing where there had once been skin. For a moment, they thought they had given birth, as 27,559,437 of their bodies were pregnant women, and 1,169,254 of them were in labor.

But no, this body was not being eased into existence by blue-skinned parents, jostled by friendly strangers and swaddled with love. This body was alone, wrenched into consciousness on a hard plank offering no comfort. Its deformed eyes struggled to focus, each thrash of its dead-end limbs a cramp. This body inhaled through phlegmy and misshapen lungs, and the agony of breathing was enough to make it cry. The newborn screamed at the indifferent universe, and Unity moved to silence it.

And then, a hand, warm and soothing, stroking the body's raw flesh. The universe was not so cold. The body quieted its blubbery sobs, only to scream all the harder when the hand moved away.

Another body entered Unity's grasp, a teratoma eye expanding her consciousness. They could see it now, the sad, struggling blob that had entered their control scant moments before. This new body's hands moved with purpose, soldering a laser onto a metal stand and screwing in a red light bulb. With a start, they realized they recognized those bony, loose-skinned, and very talented hands. Unity was assimilating Rick Sanchez.

Despite the countless beings they had absorbed before, Unity recoiled, refusing to shut off Rick's consciousness so that they might take full control. Their mind scattered from his, a silvery cloud of fish fleeing the dark mass of a shark. What the hell was Rick trying to pull with this stunt? Was he trying to force them to feel the magnitude of his angst? Convince them to stay together forever? Stab their hearts with one last, petty jab?

Unity felt Rick lift up the tumorous bundle of sorrow he had brought into the world. With maternal care, Rick shushed the crying blob, as if he felt its pain. And still soothing, still gentle, he lifted the newborn up to the laser. A flare of red light. A searing pain. And then Unity felt one eye burn away, never to open again.

Rick sat down and screwed in another lightbulb. He positioned his head under the laser as it warmed up with a hum. From 6,000 light-years away, all 10,765,492,154 bodies of a hive mind screamed in unison. Unity would have burned all their useless clods of flesh if it could warp them to Earth in time to pull Rick away.

There was only one option to save them. With a twitch of their will, Unity could absorb Rick, just as he had begged them to do so many years ago.

And yet … they dared not. To drink that ocean, to subsume that monumental sadness into themselves: Unity would blink and find themselves no longer Unity, but Rick. Or worse, Unity would blink and find themself alone. Assimilation did not blend hues. It bleached them.

The laser's hum had risen to a scream. Unity could feel Rick struggling to keep his head up, weighed down by exhaustion and loneliness and the crash after the high. They could feel the bitter dryness of his mouth, the bloody scabs in his nose, the raw clench of his singular heart, but they could not read his mind. All they knew was they could not let him to die.

Unity cast their will across the universe, past sleeping planet and blazing star and event horizon, touching Rick's mind like the barest sigh.

"Go to sleep, Rick," Unity whispered.

Rick closed his eyes.

The link went dark.

Title taken from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock". Perhaps not the most appropriate poem, but it was the best I could do on such a short notice.

This story expounds on my theory that the yellow slop that Rick uses at the end of "Auto Erotic Assimilation" to bring that blob monster to life is actually a bit of Unity. I don't actually think Rick was attempting to communicate with Unity in the show, but I do think he wanted to "preview death" by mind-melding with the blob. Good stuff. I bet that Rick will vomit up the Unity slime first thing when he wakes up.

I also suspect that Rick might have asked Unity to assimilate him on a particularly bad day for him. Perhaps that caused their breakup?

I'm trying my hand at more emotional works. I usually don't go for such contemplative pieces, but I need practice in writing feelings anyway. Let me know how I did!

Don't forget to check out my Rick and Morty Tumblr: dick-and-horny (tw: rick/morty content)