Babysitting duty, however vitally necessary, was beginning to grate the nerves. Though Craig did not often frequent the research and development department, today was a special case considering the subject of the current testing. That subject, or at least the tiny copies of him, happened to be moving about the table where Craig's book and other materials lay. A lab accident while testing some cloning technology had cloned Rick five times in miniature. On the lab table where Craig sat, he watched five six inch tall copies of his partner skittering around the lab equipment like a group of little boys.
The blond had his folded arms leaning on the table, watching them over the top of his glasses frames as they all attempted to accomplish different tasks that would seem like quite a feat for a half-foot creature. Two were attempting to push and hoist each other up the stack of textbooks next to the man, another two were pretending to spar, occasionally looking up at Craig to see if he was watching. The final one was using his thin fingers as a ladder to come sit in the crook of his elbow. All the noise, frustration, and confusion kind of melted away when this Rick snuggled up into the sleeve of his sweater. With a sigh, Craig reached and rubbed his pinky finger to the tiny man's head affectionately.
While the original was recovering from the process, this was all the company Craig had. It was voluntary, given that he was determined to help however possible. Even if all of the tiny beings in front of him were miniature copies, they were still Rick. Insuring they were all safe and sound meant as much to the archivist as keeping updated on the original's progress. Making quite certain that none of these little copies were treated like labrats was most important. They were an unexpected outcome of the test they'd put the original Rick through; Craig did not want to find out that any of them had been used to test against real rats or turned into test subjects for something horrible.
Even if they had already ripped out a page in one of his books for leisure reading... even if they constantly fought and made noise and didn't listen very well... In all honesty, they acted just like Rick might if he had been shrunk instead of cloned. Each and every one of them wanted attention, they liked praise, and got enthusiastic about the most trivial things. Craig watched as the two scaling the stack of books finally reached the top and jumped around happily, punching each other in the shoulder in the spirit of accomplishment and teamwork. The blond may have smiled a little bit and their attention was focused on him.
Their voices were almost too small to hear, which is why the archivist hunched over the table. Tiny shouts of 'we did it' and 'didja see that, four-eyes' could be heard. He murmured a 'good job' in hopes he didn't disturb the resting Rick on his arm. Both the little climbers beamed and they each got a careful pat on the head, too.
It was about then a soft 'whump' hit the table and one of the two fighting sat on the table with a very obvious pout. He was rubbing his cheek and the other held up one of his fists with a smug look. Craig made an annoyed noise and picked the violent one up by the back of the tiny jumpsuit they were provided. That Rick was placed in a tall beaker as a form of time out while Craig inspected the redness of the other's cheek.
"Are you alright?" Craig asked softly, getting a deeper frown, but a reluctant nod.
The blond gently scooped up the Rick dozing in the crook of his elbow and slid the tiny man into his shirt pocket under his sweater. Thankfully, it didn't seem to stir the minute sleeper, so Craig could get up and wet a paper towel in the sink on the other side of the table. That paper towel was given to the Rick with the tiny bit of swelling, who gratefully pressed the cool paper to his face.
He loomed over the glass beaker where a very sullen little man sat at the bottom. A pout was directed toward the archivist.
"Are you going to behave?" Craig said sternly.
He got a reluctant nod and a pair of puppy dog eyes; Craig shook his head and offered a couple of his fingers to the Rick in the beaker. Once he was wrapped around the man's thumb, this Rick copy was beaming because of the ride out of the glass. Craig may have lifted him into the air a little higher than necessary because of the joyful laughter he could hear. The other three were quick to gather around his hand and demanded to be lifted into the air as well. They weren't heavy and secretly, he might have enjoyed seeing them all so happy. A couple of rides into the air had four tiny Rick's sitting on the table, giggling and heads dizzily spinning.
His attention was caught by something moving around in his shirt and he looked down to see a head of black hair poking out of the collar of his sweater. The clone all too eagerly gripped Craig's index finger and went for a short ride over to the others. All five of them looked happy for all of two seconds, until each and every one of them spoke up with the same complaint.
"Pinky, 'm hungry!"
Craig blinked down at all of the distressed copies of his boyfriend, patting their stomachs in a very familiar manner. He did have his lunch from today, he had been too anxious to actually eat any of it. With a gesture to wait, he got up and rifled through his belongings, pushing his coat aside to get at the lunchbox he used. The container was placed on the table and five tiny men gathered around it excitedly.
"Oh no, you're all washing your hands first," Craig was already grabbing the bottle of soap from the sink, pushing the plunger down in the middle of his palm.
A little grumbling could be heard, but when he placed his hand close enough for them to reach, they all patted their hands in the soap sitting in the center. Craig was pleased with the cooperation, inspecting them all as they scrubbed their hands together. Six men marched over to the sink and Craig rinsed the soap from his own hands before pushing the faucet over to the edge. Nervously, he watched as each Rick leaned over the sink as much as he could and cleaned the suds from his hands. No incident, but it still worried him constantly that something might happen to one of them.
Now that their hands were all clean, Craig opened up the lunch box and pulled out the ham and cheese sandwich he hadn't eaten. For further cleanliness, he pulled out another paper towel and set the sandwich on top of it. Hungrily, all five Ricks came closer, but Craig pointed at them in reproach.
"Share," he warned and let them tear into the food.
Big pieces of bread, cheese, and meat were torn off the sandwich, hoarded, and quickly devoured. The half of a sandwich that was left, Craig deigned to nibble on eventually. Even if his stomach was tied in knots with worry, it didn't mean he couldn't care for himself. He rested his head on his folded arms again, watching all of the miniatures eat pieces of ham that were bigger than their heads. He had to smile at the courtesy of putting their leftovers on the napkin. How considerate of them to clean up after themselves. Maybe in the morning he would give them the granola bar sitting at the bottom of the lunchbox, something of a reward for breakfast.
The five sat, satisfied and full, for all of thirty seconds before getting up to get into more trouble. Strange as it sounds, Craig was beginning to tell them apart from one another. They were all Rick, but they did different things and were separate entities, after all. One of the climbers and the one with a slightly red cheek were trying to see if they could fold up parts of the paper towel into various shapes. The other climber, the teeny boxer, and the one who had slept in Craig's shirt pocket were currently attempting to figure out if they could climb into the tall beaker without help. The boxer braced the other side while the climber tried to hoist the sleeper up.
Everything was alright for the moment. Nothing bad was happening, everyone was safe... for the first time in a few days, Craig managed to relax just a fraction. His eyes felt heavy and eventually the blond found his forehead resting in his arms. It was impossible to tell when he dozed off, but it hit him like a car crash. The man was exhausted.
When he sat up with a start, he couldn't be sure how long he was out. He pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes and saw four Ricks sitting in front of him, laying out on the table and rubbing their own eyes with balled up fists.
"Tired?" he murmured and one or two of them nodded grumpily.
One of the scientists had dragged a cot in here so Craig could rest if need be. That scientist had also brought in a mouse cage for the tiny copies, but the blond refused to use that. They were not pets, nor rodents, nor test subjects—just tiny people. It was quickly forgotten on the other end of the lab. Craig stood up and gathered his coat from the pile of his belongings, tossing it over his chair. He offered his open palm to one of the Ricks who clambered into his hand drowsily. This one still had a red mark on his cheek. Craig gave him an affectionate peck on the top of his head and gently placed him on the thin pillow of the cot. Next was one of the climbers who had managed to get into the beaker. After pulling him out, he got a goodnight kiss and placed into bed, too. Then came the sleepy one from earlier, who sleepily gave Craig a couple paps to the hand before he was tucked in. The last one was the other climber and when the man turned back for the fifth... he wasn't anywhere to be seen.
Swallowing down a note of panic, he tucked his coat over the remaining four in the cot. No need to worry them and disturb their rest. A quick check of the beaker, no one there. Craig swallowed again thickly, trying his best not to shout and raise a fuss when it wasn't needed just yet.
"...Rick?" he called as gently as he could across the table, just hoping to god the little scamp was hiding from him.
Nothing. Craig checked the floor next. Again, nothing. He called the name again softly, making sure it was clear he wasn't talking to the four in the cot. A very, very quiet noise alerted him, near the sink. Craig frantically checked around the tap and the soap bottle, but there was nothing there. He heard the sound again, something that sounded like a very soft 'HEY!'
Though his heartbeat was already through the roof, Craig tried to listen as closely as he could, moving with the sound until... the sink drain, oh god. The archivist tried to peer into the dark hole in the sink, but nothing was there.
"Rick?" Craig called into the sink, quickly answered with a 'HELP!"
Hurriedly, Craig shoved his fingers into the sink drain, "Grab on!" he hissed, gripping the side of the sink hard enough that his fingers turned white.
"I can't reach!" the voice called.
Oh no, oh no no no. Craig pulled his hand away and tried to think as clearly as he could. A rope, or ANYTHING long at all would help. He didn't trust any of the lab equipment to be safe, oh god what was he going to do—The blond regarded his shoes for a moment, namely the black shoelace. He stooped quickly and yanked it out of the eyelets. A knot was tied at one end and then fed down the drain. There were a couple of tugs on the end and very very carefully, Craig started to lift it and the weight at the end out.
One very wet and shivering Rick came out of the drain, clutching the shoelace for dear life. He was quickly deposited in Craig's hands and the shoelace compeltely forgotten in the sink. The man rushed the cold little thing over to the paper towel dispenser, giving Rick a sheet of it and wiping him down with one of his own. The jumpsuit was quickly peeled off of him and a new, dry one given to the tiny man to replace it. Once he was well and dry, Craig scooped him up again and pointed a finger at him. Rick looked guilty and a little ashamed.
"You scared the death out of me!" Craig whispered harshly, "I was so worried!"
A very tiny 'm sorry came from the six-inch tall man; he looked genuinely distressed and upset, so Craig couldn't be too angry with him. He was just so relieved he was alright. Best to let it be and just be glad he wasn't hurt. Craig lifted this Rick and pressed a quick kiss to his face, which got him trying to hide a smile instead of a sad frown.
"You... can come sleep in my pocket tonight," he murmured, guiding the copy to the collar of his sweater so he could climb inside, "You can tell everyone about your sink adventure in the morning."
That certainly got Rick to cheer up and he happily slid into Craig's pink shirt pocket. After another quick headcount, Craig sat at the lab table and rested his head in his arms. His face was turned toward the cot where the other four copies were sleeping soundly. Thank god. Tomorrow he could check on the biggest one, knowing these five were safe. With that thought, Craig could allow himself to lightly fall asleep.