Rick chugged the rest of the whiskey in his flask as he stood in front of his desk. He tossed his flask away and stood in silence for a few moments, thinking about Unity, Morty, Beth, Summer… Hell, even Jerry... But he had to do it.
He rummaged around in a cupboard and brought out two red light bulbs and a lamp-like structure. He attached it to another machine laying around on the garage and then brought out a small, frozen alien, setting it down on the desk gently. He turned around. On the desk behind him was a flask of yellow liquid, which he poured on the alien, thawing it out. It immediately started crying like a newborn. His heart hurt. It felt like there was a hole torn through his chest. He stroked the alien soothingly, and then went back to work, finally attaching the last thing to the machine. A lazer.
He chugged the rest of the yellow liquid and loaded up a red light bulb in the machine. As it was charging up, he hugged the alien, stroking its head. "Shhh," he said soothingly, and held the alien up to the machine. It fired. The light bulb shattered. The alien crumbled into dust.
Rick slumped down into his chair and loaded the machine up a second time. Only this time he positioned the lazer over his head.
The high pitched screech of the machine charging blasted into his eardrums. Black spots swarmed in his vision. It took Rick great effort to keep upright. The room was spinning and his head felt heavy. The screech of the machine sounded distant now, but he swore he could hear something else. A human scream, not a mechanical one. "R-Rick!" Someone shouting his name...? He tried to turn to see who it was, but he couldn't move. His vision went black.
His head slammed against the workbench. The lazer fired.
"R-Rick… Come on… W-w-wake up!"
He groaned and gradually opened his eyes. "F-f-fuck… B-bright…" He winced and shut his eyes again.
"R-Rick? G-get up, Rick."
"Wha-? M-Morty?" Rick half opened his eyes. Through his bleary vision he could see a vague outline of his grandson. He was kneeling beside him on the floor, peering over him. Worry was plastered on his face.
"Rick! Y-you're sick," he said, "wh-what the hell did y-you do?" Rick sat up. A wet cloth fell into his lap and he picked it up, raising an eyebrow at Morty. "You had a f-f-fever, Rick… But wh-what did you do?" he asked again. Rick scowled.
"Attempted suicide, Muh-Morty. Duh," he said plainly. "B-but more importantly, you didn't tell Beth about this, di-did you?" Morty shook his head and sniffed, tears forming in his eyes.
"D-doesn't anyone mean anything to you, Rick? I c-can't believe you'd do this…" Morty yelled, tears streaming down his face.
"Wh-whoa, M-M-M-Morty, keep your voice-URRP down. I-I-I don't have time to w-waste worrying about others."
"N-not even me?" he yelled. "Not even after e-e-everything we've been through?!"
Rick stared at Morty. There was a long silence before he sighed and said "Muh-Morty… I care… I c-care a lot about yo-OUUURGH M-Morty…"
Morty sniffed. "Why do you drink so much, Rick?" he asked quietly. Thank god he'd stopped shouting. Rick shrugged.
"I've s-seen a lot… A lot of buh-bad shit Morty…" His chest flared with pain and he started hacking uncontrollably.
"Oh, jeez, R-Rick… I think we should g-get you to a hospital, you know…"
"No… M-Morty," Rick said between coughs. "I don't want… y-your mom knowing wh-what I did…"
"Please, Rick… Y-you're not doing so great, you know…" Morty pleaded. Rick shook his head and stood up.
"I'm fine," he said, but he was still coughing up his lungs. Black spots swarmed his vision again and he wobbled. "F-f-fuck…" He groaned, and slumped to the ground.
"Nnngh…" Rick's eyes snapped open. "Wha? Wh-where-?"
"You're in hospital," Morty said, frowning. Rick peered around the room - empty apart from Morty sitting on the chair next to his bed. An IV was attached to his arm. He sighed.
"Wh-what happened?"
"I took th-the portal gun and brought y-you here. No one else knows," Morty explained. "Jeez, Rick. Y-you've been out for over a day." Rick closed his eyes and rubbed his temples - the familiar stinging of a withdrawal headache. God, he wanted a drink…
"Rick? You okay?"
"Y-you think you could be a pal and get me a drink, Morty? Grandpa could do with one r-right about now…"
"Jeez, Rick. All you do is drink. How about you quit for once?" Morty snapped.
"A lot of shit has happened in m-my life, M-Morty. I c-could really use a drink right now." Rick crossed his arms and glared at his grandson. Morty sighed.
"Y-you never tell me a-anything about yourself," he said softly. "I-I worry about you, Rick, y-you know…"
"I-if you get me a drink, I'll t-tell you something." He had no choice. The headache wasn't going to get any better. He tutted as he watched Morty jump back home through a portal, leaving him alone in the room.
The only light source was a window to his right. There was a potted plant on the windowsill and the curtains blew in the wind. To his left was the empty seat and a bedside table with a card on it. Eyebrow raised, Rick reached for the card.
To Rick,
Get well soon! :)
~Love Morty
It was such a simple message, but it meant so much to Rick. Hot tears stung his eyes. His whole body quivered as he sobbed into his hands.
"R-Rick? What's wrong?"
Damnit. He hadn't heard Morty return. He wiped his eyes. "N-nothing," he said, his voice strained. Morty said nothing as he climbed onto the bed and wrapped a comforting arm around him, handing him his flask. "Th-thank you Morty. I d-don't deserve you," he said, tears spilling down his cheeks. Morty rubbed his back as he took several sips of whiskey.
"Shh, it's okay Rick," he said. "It's okay… Y-you were gonna tell me something? I mean, y-you don't have to or anything…"
Rick inhaled deeply. "No, no. I-I said I would," he said, taking another sip from his flask. "M-man, I needed that… A-anyway…" He shifted around awkwardly. "I-I h-had a Mo-OURGH-ty before you. G-got too attached to the f-fucker… A R-Rick should n-n-never get attached to his Morty, but I-I was stupid, M-Morty. I was st-stupid and got attached to h-him, and th-then… And then…"
Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.
"Rick…?"
"H-he died…" Rick dragged a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth. "I-in my arms, M-Morty. I c-couldn't do shit, a-a-and-" Rick broke into a fit of violent sobs.
Morty hugged his grandfather tightly, squeezing him so hard he was scared he'd suffocate. Rick didn't complain if he was hurting him. Instead he carried on crying for what seemed like hours.
Eventually, he stopped and eased his way out of Morty's grip and cleared his throat. "S-Sorry," he said, averting his gaze.
"R-Rick? C-Could you please quit drinking?" Morty asked. Rick glanced at him and sighed, shaking his head. "I-It's okay, Rick. I u-understand. But… Could y-you at least promise n-not to attempt s-suicide again?"
"I-I promise, M-Morty. Never again…" Rick said. He gave Morty a small smile, and they hugged again.
