A very brief look at Rick's thoughts during the end of "A Rickle in Time." Enjoy!
"I feel like one of the 64 Ricks, like, sacrificed himself for me? Maybe...I think." Morty looked at Rick expecting...something. Probably some sentimental BS. Rick didn't do sentiment.
"Shut up Morty. The last time you felt something we all almost died. You little piece of shit." Rick took a long gulp from his his flask, effectively emptying it. Their little adventure had let him sober up just a little too much for his tastes.
Beth walked in with her idiot and Rick couldn't mask the genuine smile he had from seeing his daughter again. He still could barely contain the relief that they had all survived. These people were going to be the death of him. The thought caused a sudden twist in his gut and he wished Jerry would shut the fuck up and everyone would leave the garage. He needed to dig into his cache.
"Doesn't feel so good, does it?"
"No, it doesn't. It hurts." Morty had no idea.
When they finally did leave him alone, Rick collapsed into a chair and pulled a bottle from under the cabinet and set about drinking himself into a stupor. Of course he remembered though."I'm ok with this. Be good Morty." Even as all of his memories had been lumped together again, he was able to recall each version individually. Rick tossed the now empty bottle to the side and reached into the cabinet again, fishing for something stronger. He needed to detach himself again, needed to remind himself that he was his one and only priority.
But even as he reached for a third bottle, the room spinning while a pleasant tingling sensation spread through his body, Rick's slowing thoughts couldn't block out the truth. He knew that in every possibility, in any circumstance in the future, he would do the same.
After all, unlike his pain in the ass grandkids, Rick was certain.