Disclaimer: I don't own "Rick and Morty".
Author's Note: So, I know Father's Day is passed and all, but I just watched "M. Night Shaym-Aliens" (ep. 1x4) and was inspired to write this little one shot in honor of all the great Dads out there and especially for those who have bonding moments like this one. This is a continuation of the after-credits scene of that episode (So, spoilers for that episode abound.) Enjoy and Happy Belated Father's Day for All!
Morty Smith sat at the dining room table with a glass of milk at four am. The glass was full; not an ounce had been drunk. He should have been in his bedroom asleep, but Rick was passed out on the floor by his bed and he didn't want to deal with any craziness right about now. Rick had just, out of nowhere, pulled a knife on him, yelling in his face, demanding if he was "a simulation" or not...and all Morty wanted to do was get some sleep so he could go to school in the morning.
Living with Rick Sanchez was becoming an increasingly challenging task that Morty wasn't sure he was quite prepared for.
He loved going on the trips around the galaxy with his grandfather, but sometimes-such as situations like this-he wondered just what kind of man was living in their house, only a room away from him, only a paper-thin wall to separate the two apart.
He was staring off into space, absent-mindedly nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie, half-heartedly munching on it, when suddenly a soft dim light flooded the stovetop in the kitchen, and his father's silhoutte emerged.
"...Dad?" Morty blurted out with surprise-which in turn surprised his father, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.
"Jeez, Morty! What are you doing sitting here in the dark!? You nearly scared the bejeezus out of your pool ol' pops!" Jerry scowled with a turbulent mixture of confusion and concern as he turned his back to rummage about in the fridge.
"Oh...I dunno...couldn't sleep I guess….," Morty lied sheepishly; he didn't want to get Rick in trouble for waking him up, scaring him near half to death and subsequently passing out in his bedroom (and all of this on a school night).
"...Bad dreams?" his father prompted gently as he poured himself a shot of vodka tonic (a choice which surprised Morty).
"Yep bad dreams. Dad," Morty paused with hesitation, "are you….drinking?"
"Sure-why not? Can't a guy get himself a drink from his own liquor cabinet, just a night cap when he can't sleep?" Jerry snapped-then realized his mistake when he saw his son's crestfallen eyes, and his face softened with guilt. "I'm….sorry, Morty….it's been….a tough….day," Jerry sighed as he sat down next to his son. It wasn't often they got a chance to talk like this and suddenly he was glad for the company. "I...don't know if your Mom told you but…."
"What?" Morty feigned ignorance (he'd already heard what had happened at his dad's workplace that day.)
Jerry frowned down at the table. "I...got fired," he mumbled. "...again."
"Oh," Morty frowned too as he placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. "S-sorry to hear that...wha-what happened?"
"Oh…." Jerry looked pitifully sad then, and Morty knew he shouldn't have asked. "It's...a long story, son...did Rick...tell you anything about where we were today?"
"...didn't you guys go on some trip together or something?" Morty had been confused about that. He'd always thought Rick couldn't stand his father. "Where did you go?" Morty asked, hoping he wasn't crossing a line.
"That's probably something you should talk to Rick about. Listen kiddo…." Jerry paused as if considering something carefully before turning to face his grandson, and, after staring so hard at him that it made Morty uncomfortable, he asked, "do you….ever feel like your life...is a lie?"
Morty frowned. He wasn't exactly sure what that meant. "Like….like how?"
"Okay," Jerry tried, culminating the concept over again in his mind, "like….do you ever feel like….like there's something….bigger out there….like….like you're only a shadow of yourself...and all of this is just...just some big….I dunno….a joke?"
Morty thought about that. He thought long and hard. What would he be if he had control over everything? Well...for starters he would be Jessica's boyfriend….and maybe better grades in school….and maybe he wouldn't be so afraid of everything all of the time….and maybe he wouldn't feel so small in Rick's eyes….
"I...used to pretend I was a superhero." The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Morty blushed at once (he'd never told anybody that!) "...I-I know it's stupid, and it sounds really dumb but-"
"That's not dumb at all," his dad said, smiling, and for a moment Morty feared that he was amused, and just teasing him like Rick might if he said anything about it-but no, his father was being supportive, and for once Morty felt like he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't.
"And you know what son?" Jerry smiled as he playfully ruffled his son's hair like he used to when he was a little kid, "one of these days, maybe you will be a superhero-but, until then, you'll always be the best kind of superhero to me."
Neither father nor son noticed the shadow that moved quickly at once out of view as Morty leaned into his father for a much-needed hug; Rick, having overheard the whole conversation, quickly stole down the hallway.
He'd woke up noticing the knife on the floor, realizing the huge mistake he'd made, and kicking himself mentally for going batshit crazy on Morty like that-when the poor dumb kid hadn't had any idea what he was talking about in the first place.
He'd gone in search of Morty to apologize somehow (maybe watch a late rerun of Ball Fondlers on the TV) but now, after overhearing the conversation between his grandson and Jerry, Rick realized instantaneously what he could do to make things right. As the stupor began to wear off and his thoughts grew clear, Rick sprinted off in the direction of the garage, knowing Morty would have no reason to go there until the next day after school. He had a plan.
That morning, Morty found a note taped to the referigerator door. It read: Meet me in the garage after school. ~Rick
Remembering the knife incident, those words gave Morty shivers.
All day long he worried about what the note could possibly mean.
When the last bell rang, he raced home and burst through the front door.
He was making his way down the hall towards the entrance of the garage when he stopped short in his tracks.
There on the door to the garage right in front of him was the bright red, unavoidably large, somewhat sloppily hand-painted message:
"ONLY SUPERHEROS IN-TRAINING ALLOWED. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK. ~MANAGEMENT"
A smile broke out on Morty's face that stretched wide from ear to ear.
He held his breath...
...and stepped inside.