AN:
So this is an AU I made on deviantart a few days ago ( /art/The-adventures-of-Richard-and-Mortimer-591479965). I decided to release the first part since I'm already working on the second.
This is a mix High School and Foster kid AU because why not. I love both, and young Rick.
If I never finish this fic though do me a favor and just stab me kthx.
Enjoy kiddies.
The road seemed to be glowing from the amount of rain pattering down from the sky as Morty stared out of the dining room window in hopeful anticipation. Mom and Dad had said Richard was moving in today, a scruffy-looking boy from the Foster Care system. Morty was excited, even if nerves were shaking him to his core. He hoped he could make a good impression on Richard, for he hadn't met him in person yet, just seen pictures. The kid looked kind of mean, but his Dad reassured him he was "...alright". Good enough for him.
Summer only cared if the new kid was cool. Richard's room (originally a small guest bedroom) was nested right across the hall from hers, so she probably wanted a buddy parallel from her. Other than that, she seemed to be apathetic that a whole other person was going to enter the family, even when stealing the room she often had sleepovers in. Mom was excited, and Dad seemed unsure about the addition.
Regardless, he needed a home. The Smiths' were gracious enough to provide one, and social workers don't pass up an opportunity like this.
Morty sighed, forcing his nervous fidgeting to a stop as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window. The rain made things look bleak, kind of unhappy, reflecting in Morty's empathy for the nature visible in front of him. The splatters of precipitation were striking against trees and leaves with great force, almost like bullets from a gun, and making them shutter in defiance; everything else looked just as nervous as he was.
The simple interest was soon taken over by the rushing past of a car that didn't slow down or stop in front of the house, but instead surprised him, making him jump a little. He pursed his lips in embarrassment, quickly looking around. Neither of the corridors around him stirred with movement, bringing him relief again. He reminded himself of a mouse, tiny and thus afraid of everything bigger. His ego stung a little.
In his moment of self-pity, the car finally pulled up, and once noticed, Morty bit his lip and shuffled toward the entryway that led into the Rose-colored hall. He reluctantly called out "H-he's here!" to the rest of the house, and the members of the family almost materialized in front of him immediately in an attempt to be the first impression. Beth was leading the charge, Summer watching curiously and Jerry hung back, seeming as if he were holding his breath. Morty was left behind to try and pry a glance from behind everyone.
Beth opened the door and greeted the couple coming up the walkway, bags in hand and rushing to avoid the threat of rain and wind. Once inside, the girls seemed to take the bags and suitcases and shuffle them off to the side while the teen in question grumbled and slicked his hair back on his head. Richard was tall and skinny, with his clothes hanging a bit loose on his scrawny frame. He unzipped the heavy leather jacket hung on himself to reveal a tanktop much more appropriate for Summer weather in the midwest, which went with his skinny jeans well. The stout worker accompanying him greeted the group before giving Beth and Jerry some slightly soggy papers and being on her way, wishing everyone good luck with getting to know each other, as well as tipping to Beth and Jerry that they'd have an appointment to check in soon. Richard seemed to flinch at the sound of the door closing behind her.
"So, Richard-" Beth began, before being cut off by a gruff tone.
"R-Rick, it's Rick." He corrected, eyebrows sinking a little at the mention of such a name. His tongue seemed to spit venom on the name in question, as he chewed on a toothpick. Geez, he was blunt.
"-Sorry, Rick. Hello again. Would you like to meet your foster brother and sister?" She smiled a little at him.
"I guess." His eyes wandered, picking apart the amount of pointless decorative items littered around, but still keeping a seemingly uncaring ear on the conversation in question.
"Good! Well, this is Summer..."
"Hey." She greeted, in the particular fashion she usually did to everyone. It didn't go unnoticed by Rick, but upon scanning her frame, he became aware she seemed to be a typical type of teen. He ignored her passive attention-seeking tone, but responded by waving with sarcasm in her general direction. As a result, her eyes narrowed, and he knew his hypothesis was correct. AVOID.
"And this would be- Morty, come here." Beth prompted, gesturing with her head for him to move forward.
In Morty's head it took him a while for him to approach the stranger before mustering up the courage to wave. "H-hi." He greeted, looking down afterward and 'fixing' the hem of his shirt.
He didn't see it, but an eyebrow on Rick raised. "Hey kid." He tossed forward, shoving his hands in his pockets in indifference. He was done here.
"Where am I crashing?" He asked, wanting to change the subject as well as just be alone for a while. He had a thousand things on his mind and wanted to write them down.
"Right this way! Morty, can you help take Rich-Rick's stuff upstairs?" She asked, Summer already on her way up with three bags in hand.
"U-uh, sure..." Morty was left with a suitcase that was carried in by Rick. It was a bit slick, but he grabbed ahold fine. Lifting, however, was not what he was strong at. Sweat beaded his forehead as he struggled to pick up the bag, self-conscious about not being able to.
Rick sighed, taking it himself and lifting it easily before going on his way upstairs. Morty watched in awe. He wondered what was in there, weights? It felt like it. Rick didn't seem like the type of kid who did much working out, though. He slumped against the railing in defeat before his Dad pat his back.
"I know how you feel, son." He uttered, before also heading upstairs.
This might be a little bit harder than expected.
As soon as Rick entered the room in question, he found himself liking the space. It was a simple, darkly-painted room with carpet covering the floor. There was a desk in place and a chest of drawers, as well as a space for a bed. Most kids would probably winge about how "boring" it looked, but he could care less. Beth behind him was waiting for a hint of how he felt about it, but he simply turned around and opened one of his bags to pull out a cot.
"Oh, you don't have to sleep on that, we're ordering a bed for you-"
"S-save the money, Beth." He deadpanned, shaking off his leather jacket and tossing it in a corner in order to adjust the cot better. "I like this thing better."
"O-oh, alright then.." She smiled. "Well, do you want help unpacking, or do you want to settle in yourself?" She was clearly eager to help. He turned it down.
"I-I-I'm good miss Smith. Thanks though." He smiled a little at her, testing something in his mind.
"Okay. Have fun setting up! If you need anything, just yell." She shooed the other family members away and they all dispersed to their respective spaces, he supposed, including the needy teen girl across the hall. That was going to be fun.
The teen unpacked his cot and slid it into a corner by the door, tossing a blanket and pillow onto the mattress haphazardly. He then opened the chest of drawers and stuffed whatever clothing he could fit into the compartments without care, leaving the rest for miscellaneous experiments and other junk.
Unpacking then grew boring, and he sat on his cot, looking around the room. He couldn't wait for the rest of his junk to arrive. Half of them were his experiments and gadgets, but he did bring one of his most prized inventions with him. He dug up the bag out of the pile (the same one the twink earlier had a hard time with) and unzipped it with a bit of enthusiasm. Inside, there was a tub of materials he'd taken from the shelter and a sealed box. He was about to pick it up when there was a small rap in the doorway of his new room.
Morty was watching him look through the bag and smiled nervously. "A-anything I can help with?" He prompted, searching for any sign of friendliness from the teen.
Rick pursed his lips. This one was needy too, pathetically so, but there seemed to be a certain naivety to him that you just don't get anywhere else.
"N-no." He stuttered, pulling the box out of the bag at his feet and rising to place it on the desk parallel to where his cot sat. He thought the boy might go away, but he was persistent.
"Wha-wha-what's in the bag, by the way? Whatever it was, i-it was really-really heavy..." The shorter stepped over the threshold of the doorway, though reluctant to enter the room fully, since he hadn't been asked to come in or anything.
Rick rolled his eyes. "Nothing. Go-go play with your dick or something, okay? I'm busy." He hoped Morty would take the hint and screw off if he came on strong. He picked the box's seal; some duct tape he'd lifted several months before now, successfully finding the edge of the tape and pulling it off with care for the materials inside.
Morty raised an eyebrow. "A-are they weights or something?" He prompted, confused by Rick's defensiveness about the mystery pack.
"No, go." Rick jabbed, lifting the lid of the box in front of him and picking out some scattered machinery and parts before setting the whole singular project on the desk, which was currently a mish-mash of parts carefully constructed and tightened together, in an effort to serve a singular purpose. It was only the first prototype, but it was much more advanced than anything he'd made before. It was a gun. Not like the guns he'd made before - which could only shoot miscellaneous non-fatal materials - but a portal gun. He'd been working on the math for months (almost a year by now) and he had it all figured out. All he had to do was figure out the mechanics.
Morty flinched at Rick's harshness toward him about the contents of the bag. Maybe it was something personal and he shouldn't pry. Regardless, he felt rejected. Hurt, the fourteen year old left without another word, leaving the young genius to his tinkering.