Disclaimer: I don't own Rick and Morty!
Title: Numbness Becomes You.
Summary: Summer finds Morty the night after Rick is captured, getting drunk. She's more than happy to join him.
Warnings: It's Rick and Morty. Need I say more?
...
Summer finds Morty in, of all places, Rick's workshop.
(And, okay, she wasn't looking for him in the first place, or anything, but she certainly wasn't planning on crawling down there to cry or anything. No way. That'd be really fucking stupid.)
The place is in shambles. Someone had obviously been through there recently, and had left frustrated, judging by the dent in the table, most likely from an ill-intended kick. She wonders if they found what they were looking for, but finds herself doubting it. Rick, when he wanted to be, is a secretive bastard, and she has no doubt that he's long stashed anything or particular interest.
But the alcohol is okay, which is currently what Morty is fixated on, trying to uncap the lid with clumsy hands.
"You're gonna end up like grandpa Rick, you know that?"
"So what?" He mumbles, too busy to stutter. "W-Who the fuck cares?" Well, mostly.
"Hand it over."
He hugs it close to his chest. "Why should I?"
"Because you're not the only one who wants to get wasted, and you can't open bottles worth shit." She replies, flopping down on the cold floor, cross-legged. She's too numb to really feel it, however.
"I thought you just s-said I was gonna end up like Rick." He states, but hands it over anyway. Judging by the emptiness in his eyes, he's probably already halfway there.
"Well, like Rick and mom, with how things are going." She pulls the top off with fumbling fingers. Thank god there's more than one. "We should probably break all the weapons in the house."
"S-Summer, that's a really horrible thing to say." A pause. "A-About mom."
"I wasn't talking about just mom." Summer gives him a knowing look, which he coldly returns. No one is free from blasting themselves to hell, and they know it. "We could give them to dad." Almost no one.
"F-Fuck that." Morty returns, holding out a hand for the bottle. Summer takes a swig and hands it over. "I say w-we stash 'em."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. In that underground lab thing." He passed it back. "We fix them, build a portal gun, and w-wreck the shit out of that fucking prison."
Summer did something almost like a laugh. "How? We don't know how to make a portal gun. Hell, we don't even know how to use one."
"I've seen Rick use all of these fuckers." He replied, making a gesturing motion with the bottle. She assumes he means the tools left scattered here and there around the room. "And I know what almost all of the portal gun parts look like."
"So that's what we're left with? Guess and check?"
"Fuck yes."
"...Hand over that bottle."
He does. Summer starts to feel a little woozy. God, they're such lightweights. Something tells her they're gonna change that. "So, what then?"
"Huh?" Morty squints at her, swaying a bit. Or the alcohol is fucking with her vision. Probably both.
"We make a portal gun. Go to space prison. Fuck shit up. Rescue Rick. What then?" She swishes the liquid around. "Rick'll be, like, on the run times ten."
"So will we." He answers, without so much as blinking. "We'll get the fuck out of there and hide."
"But what about mom and dad?"
"What about them?" His eyes are as steady as they can be, considering he's leaned against a shelf and nursing a bottle of booze. "Dad likes it here. Mom's broken."
"She'll fall apart." Summer warns, but doesn't argue him about leaving. She'd do anything to get away from this shit-hole planet, crawling with aliens who put her grandpa in space prison (which she can understand, all things considered) and brutally killed his best friend in front of him over something that happened years ago (That? Not so much).
"T-They have therapy for that."
"Hmm." She takes a somewhat delicate sip out of the bottle. "Alright, I'm in. What first?"
Morty yanks another bottle out of the stack, silently letting the other ones clink together as they shift. "First, we do what mom would do; get drunk off our asses and wake up feeling l-lower than shit in the morning. Fuck Rick. Fuck space prison. We can deal with that once we drink the numb away."
Summer likes the sound of that.
Author's Note: First Rick and Morty 'fic! Most people talk about Morty becoming like Rick, but they tend to forget Summer, who is in just as deep, and just as likely to turn out like him as well.
I know she's a less important character, but she still there. =)
(Only my second adult swim fic as a whole, too, so you know it's not the best. My editor isn't interested in such shows as well, leaving me to edit it myself.)
-Mandaree1