"Citadel Morning News. News about the Citadel in the morning. Pretty self explanatory."
"Hello and good morning. I'm Rick D-716-B."
"And I'm Rick D-716. It's six am, so it's time for the morning headlines."
Morty stirred, hearing the voices from the other room. Or voice. It sounded like it was just Rick talking.
"Coming up; President Morty signs Prop Zeta-25-G into law, lowering the drinking age to fourteen."
Morty sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up.
"And President Morty celebrates a major victory against Rick C-137, also known as Rogue Rick."
"C-137? Oh boy I'd hate to be him."
Careful not to wake his mother and sister, who were sleeping on the floor, Morty crept to the other side of the room and opened the door. The voices were coming from the TV.
"So would I. I mean, I'm Rick, but I'm not that Rick!"
"Those stories and more, after these, um, commercials."
"Aw jeez, Family Morty." Peg-Leg Morty turned the TV volume down. "I didn't see you there."
"That's fine, I guess." Morty said. "I heard Ricks and thought... I-I dunno. The worst."
"It's just the Citadel Morning News." Peg Leg Morty said. "Would you... Like to watch?" He asked with a shrug. "I mean it's-it's all propaganda now anyway. But uh, they're talking about your Rick."
"He's not my Rick." Morty said sternly.
Peg-Leg Morty said nothing, but turned the TV volume back up.
"... For all Ricks."
"Welcome back. We have been informed that our top story should be the conquering of Rick C-137."
"Yesterday, during the Rick-all-"
"Rick-all? You can do better than that."
"And I'm sure you can too, D-716-B."
"Of course I can. I'm you, dipshit."
"So yesterday, during the Rick-all-"
"Are they always like this? And why does that one have a scar on his face?" Morty asked.
"Yeah, they don't really like each other." Peg-Leg Morty said.
"Apparently C-137 is President Morty's original Rick. That makes our Glorious President-"
Morty looked at the TV in disgust. "Suddenly he's Kim Jong-Un? I'm Kim Jong-Un?"
"Who?"
"Dear Leader. The dictator of North Korea."
"Oh." Peg-Leg Morty nodded. "Right. In my dimension, there is no North Korea. There's just one Korea, but they've been at war for like seventy years."
"Technically the same in mine." Morty said. "It's weird and complicated."
"... Is at Sanchez General Hospital."
"Surprised he's not at Mortimer Memorial Hospital."
"Our brilliant President Morty knows what he's doing, D-716."
"True. Nobody does a better job of caring for injured Ricks than Rick L73-D, better known as ICU Consultant Rick."
"What?" Morty squinted. "Sanchez General Hospital? Mortimer Memori-what is that?"
"Sanchez General is a hospital for Ricks. Mortimer Memorial is a hospital for Mortys." Peg-Leg Morty explained. "It's nothing to do with classism. It's just... us Mortys, we-we're kids. The Ricks are, well, they're geriatric. We have different medical needs, you know?"
"C-137's current Morty is presently on the run and he's hiding out somewhere on the Citadel."
"It shouldn't be too hard to find him, however, as he can be identified with his two accomplices, a Beth and a Summer."
"It is important they all be found and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, so anyone with any information is to call this hotline immediately." The scar faced Rick on the news pointed below him as a hotline number popped up above him. "Real mature you pieces of shit."
"Now onto the next story. Prop Zeta-25-G. It would allow the sale of alcohol to Citadel inhabitants, no matter how young they are."
"This is not to be confused with Prop Theta-25-G, which bans portalling to all, except the Citadel Armed Forces."
There was a rhythmic knock on the door, almost like Morse Code. Peg-Leg Morty seemed to recognise it as he stood up and limped to the front door and opened it.
"Aw jeez, did you hear on the news?" Another Morty asked.
Morty stood up defensively.
Peg-Leg Morty simply stood to one side and allowed the other Morty inside. But he did so very nervously, as if there may be someone else watching-and there might well have been.
The other Morty looked weird. And Morty had seen a version of him as a hammer and another with antennae. The other Morty was covered in feathers, but was still wearing Morty clothes. He also had an orange beak and wings and yet he seemed to have fingers-almost like a living Donald Duck cartoon.
"I sure did." Peg Leg Morty said. "Aw jeez."
"Who's that?" The other Morty pointed at Morty.
Peg-Leg Morty looked at Morty and then back at the other Morty. "Duck Morty, this is Family Morty. His-his Rick is C-137."
"Aw jeez." Duck Morty could say nothing else. He stood there looking at Morty
"I know." Morty said after a few awkward seconds.
Peg-Leg Morty cleared his throat. "Family Morty, this is my friend Duck Morty. He lives across from me."
"Duck Morty?"
"I'm from a world where everyone's a duck." Duck Morty said. "My original Rick was Duck Rick. He uh... was killed. I had another Rick. Who was, um, also killed."
"S-s-sorry to hear that." Morty said.
"It happens." Duck Morty said with a kind of shrug. "So... Where's the Beth and Summer?"
"Duck Morty!" Peg-Leg Morty hissed. "You can't just-"
"Relax, they said it on the news." Duck Morty said. "That the, uh, fugitive Morty was hiding out with a Beth and a Summer. Does-Does Landlord Rick know?"
"Yeah, Landlord Rick knows."
"And he's just okay with that?" Duck Morty asked sceptically.
"Well, Duck Morty, he's kept us safe so far. Why would you think he wouldn't?" Peg-Leg Morty asked.
"Breakfast rations are at seven. I heard that Shop Assistant Rick stole something good from the Morty Mart." Duck Morty said. "I'd... Better get ready for that. Bye, Peg-Leg Morty. And Family Morty."
Duck Morty waved and looked cautiously down the hall, left and right, before leaving and closing the door softly behind him.
"What's that about?" Morty asked.
"It's hard to know who to trust any more. Since President Morty took power." Peg-Leg Morty said. "You'd best wake your family up, Family Morty. Breakfast will be in three quarters of an hour."
"Interesting." Jessica said.
"What is?" Rick asked.
They were still sitting down in their chairs with the white background of Rick's mind.
"That you won't tell me about the Szechuan sauce." Jessica replied.
"You want to know? Fine!" Rick snapped. "It was never about the sauce! I just want that feeling back. It was 1998. I'd left my family and I was living with Birdperson. It was the last taste of freedom I'd get before we went to jail for opposing the stupid, shitty Galactic Federation."
"And how did you meet Birdperson?"
"None of your damn business how I met Birdperson. You're my mind. You know how I met Birdperson."
"You're right. I do." Jessica stood up and the scene around them changed colour from white to a sort of light blue. "And you're sad." She noted.
"Damn right I'm sad." Rick stood up after her. "This colour's bumming me out."
"Well, you created it." Jessica shrugged.
"Wait, I did what now?" Rick asked. "I didn't do anything."
"Oh, did I not tell you... this is your subconscious." Jessica said sarcastically.
"I think you did." Rick said with a slight snarl.
Jessica hummed and put her finger at the back of the chair, dragging her finger along as she walked.
"Can you not do that?" Rick grunted. "I mean, it's bad enough I gotta have you here. I don't want you touching my mind up either. I don't even want to talk to you."
"Yes. You made that completely evident when you tried to transform yourself into a pickled cucumber." Jessica said. "Fear not, Rick. I've already told you I'm not a therapist. Or the Ghost of Christmas Past. But here's the thing; you can't run from your own mind."
"Uh huh." Rick nodded. "Can we just wrap this up?"
"Let me finish, Rick." Jessica snapped. "You did this to yourself. I didn't put you in a coma. I'm not the part of your mind that comes up with asinine ideas or forces you to take drugs and drink so much alcohol that makes it a miracle you're alive. That part of your mind is in you." She poked him in the chest.
"Then who are you?"
"The Ghost of Coma Present." She said with a serious look on her face. "Rick, I'm your subconscious mind. And not to beat it over your head, but the reason I've taken on the form of your grandson's friend is because you care about him."
"I don't!" Rick shouted, almost as if it were an insult among Ricks to care about their families. "Morty's expendable! There are hundreds of thousands of them-"
"And you've had three. Yet there's something about this Morty you currently have that you like."
Rick gave a noncommittal grunt in response.
"You know it to be true."
"Hypothetically, if I agreed with you, what would that mean?"
"It would mean that you're human." Jessica said with a shrug.
"I'm not human! I'm a god! I'm smart-so much smarter than everyone else-"
"You're fallible, Rick. And that's your biggest fear." Jessica said.
Rick backed off immediately.
"You're not a god. You just have genius intelligence. Well, we do. Since I'm you."
"You're not me."
"You ever hear that little voice in the back of your head saying 'tell Beth you love her after you got your arm ripped off by a Froopy bird in a world that was supposed to free of danger and offer to make her a clone so she could leave and not do what you did because that was shitty'?"
Rick looked at her blankly, debating his next words carefully.
"Or perhaps 'get Morty that selfie with the President that he's wanted for so long because that's your way of telling him you love him too'." Jessica shrugged. "Maybe that voice said 'I am so proud of Summer right now', 'you know, I kind of miss Snuffles'-that's my voice."
"I don't think that." Rick said, turning away.
Jessica chuckled. "You do. You just have trouble with empathy. So you push everyone whose name isn't Squanchy or Birdperson away."
"Don't mention Birdperson." He snarled.
"You're right. That one's still kinda raw." She nodded in agreement. "But you're only human after all, it goes without saying you'd miss him. He was your best friend."
Rick cast his gaze to the blue floor.
"You didn't push him away. Why push your family away?" Jessica asked. "Squanchy and Birdperson-they were aliens. Your family aren't so you're afraid if you let them in that they'll see someone human. Someone who makes mistakes."
"I don't make mistakes-"
"Just because you erased them from Morty's memory doesn't mean you don't have those memories. 'Take it for granite'? That's a stone. Why would you-"
"It makes sense now." Rick angrily folded his arms.
"You like to give the sense that you're omnipotent and know everything. The truth is, you're a seventh year old super genius who is still learning. Not just about aliens and stuff, but about humans and the way they work. Their idioms. Social conventions."
"I know social conventions." Rick muttered.
"Ha. No you don't." Jessica held her palm out and a magic wand materialised. She gave it a wave, ignoring the confused looking Rick standing next to her, and a box full to the top with movie reels came out of nowhere.
"Let's see. Where is it?" She crouched down on her knees and rummaged through the box.
"What are you looking for?" Rick asked.
"Sit back down, sit back down." Jessica said casually. "We're just doing to do something I like to call... Rick's Mindblowers. Ah-ha!" She took out a reel that read 'Rick therapy'.
"Is this Pick-"
Jessica shook her head with a sadistic grin. "It's not Pickle Rick."
"Oh fuck."
Morty, Beth and Summer were standing around Peg-Leg Morty as he knocked on the door of an apartment, the same rhythmic knocking that Morty had heard earlier.
Landlord Rick answered. He looked nervously left to right and hurried the four inside his apartment without saying a word.
"Why do you knock like that?" Morty asked.
"It's Morse Code." Peg-Leg Morty said.
"For what?" Morty asked.
"One, nine, eight and four." Another Morty said. This one was heavily tattooed and had sleeve tattoos on both of his arms. "Hi. I'm Tattoo Artist Morty." He put his hand out politely.
"Okay." Morty tentatively shook his hand, as did Beth and Summer.
"He lives above us." Peg-Leg Morty said. "On this floor."
"You can probably guess what I do for a living." Tattoo Artist Morty chuckled awkwardly.
"So why one, nine, eight and four?" Morty asked.
"Wait, I get it." Summer said. "Nineteen Eighty-Four. The book about perpetual war, government control and observation and media manipulation!"
"Summers are smart." Landlord Rick said proudly. "Yep. That's exactly right. President Morty tries to control us by watching us and manipulating our media. All news has to be about him."
"The News Anchor Ricks called him 'glorious president'." Morty said.
"Yeah. Disgusting." Another Morty said. He was wearing sunglasses and was sat on Landlord Rick's tattered couch reading in Braille. This Morty was probably Blind Morty. "By the way, I'm Blind Morty."
"And I'm his Rick, Shop Assistant Rick." A smiling Rick said. "Can I steal you anything today?"
"Uh..." Morty winced slightly.
"Tampons." Summer said. "You do have tampons right?"
"Yeah, but we only have Playtex Sport." Shop Assistant Rick said as he made a note in his notebook. "No Tampax. That okay?"
"Whoa. You actually have Tampons?" Summer asked.
"Sure." Shop Assistant Rick said. "There are female Ricks and Mortys on the Citadel you know. Though the female Ricks don't tend to need Tampons. Being seventy and all. You still want those tampons?"
"Uh yeah!" Summer said enthusiastically. "The only pants I have are white."
"I can steal you more clothes. I mean, they'll be Rick clothes. But clothes are clothes, right?"
"Yes. Please do." Beth said before Summer could answer.
Shop Assistant Rick turned to Morty. "Morty clothes for you, right?"
"I'm-I'm good." Morty said. "For clothes."
More Morse Code knocking had Landlord Rick opening his door again.
"Hello, Landlord Rick." A familiar monotone voice said. "I have been looking forward to your daily rations. I am quite hungry."
"Anything you want, Birdperson." Landlord Rick said.
"Hey, Landlord Rick."
"Hey, Paralysed Morty."
A Morty entered using a wheelchair.
That shocked Morty. He'd never thought about that happening to him. He was more concerned with being evil and Rick not caring about him than being so horribly injured that his Rick no longer wanted him. Though evidently it was a sad possibility.
The Morty was followed by someone Morty long thought to be dead-mainly because he witnessed the murder-Birdperson.
"I didn't think they had more Birdpeople-Birdpersons?" Summer shrugged. "But given there's Hunger Games Summer and a whole city of Grandpas and Mortys there's probably going to be more than just one of Grandpa's friends."
"I-I guess." Morty rubbed his arm awkwardly.
"Hello, Blind Morty. Hello, Allistic Morty. Hello, Duck Morty. Hello, Tattoo Artist Morty. Hello, Peg-Leg Morty. Hello, Blind Morty. Hello, Shop Assistant Rick. Hello, Dental Nurse Morty." Birdperson greeted everyone in the room. He turned to Morty, Beth and Summer. "Hello, Morty."
"Uh, F-Family Morty."
"You are Beth. And you must be Summer. I am-"
"Grandpa's friend Birdperson." Summer said.
"How do you-"
"We've met." Beth said. "Well, our dimension's Birdperson. He got married."
"Mom." Summer hissed.
"I'm only saying the truth, Summer." Beth said.
"Well, this is all of us." Landlord Rick said. "Deaf Morty's in the kitchen making breakfast."
Blind Morty put his hand up.
"Yes, Blind Morty."
"Is Wheelchair Morty not joining us this morning?"
"No, he'd rather wallow in his own self pity." Landlord Rick said evenly. "Alright. Oath time."
The Mortys raised their arms and let their wrist go limp. The result had their fingers resembling an 'M' shape-intentional, they were Mortys.
The Ricks did the same, but their index fingers curled over their middle fingers-which bent inwards-leaving their ring and pinkie fingers free. It made an 'R' shape. R for Rick.
Birdperson made a sort of 'OK' sign with his fingers, only his middle finger curled over his index finger. His ring and pinkie fingers curled next to his middle finger.
"Morty, follow the Morty symbol. Beth, you follow Birdperson's symbol-yep, that's... we'll work on it." Landlord Rick said. "And Summer... hmm." He frowned in thought. "Oh, I know! Do this."
He held his hand up vertically. His index finger was curled down only slightly, his thumb stuck out his other fingers were curled down into a fist, which made an 'S' shape.
"Like this?" Summer asked, copying the symbol.
Landlord Rick nodded. "Yep." He went back to his own 'R' symbol. "Right. Oath."
Everyone recited the same thing. "Dictator Morty will not control us. His forces will not beat us. Dictator Morty will be defeated. We will beat him."
"Good oath. Good oath." Landlord Rick said. Everyone relaxed their hands.
"That sounded more like an affirmation than an oath." Summer pointed out.
"Same difference." Landlord Rick said. "Right. We have a few orders of business today before we get down to rations. First, I'd like to introduce our new members, Summer, Beth and Family Morty! Family Morty used to be Rogue Rick's Morty."
Murmurs filled the room.
"Second, as you may have heard, we're down a member. Pilot Morty was... Tragically murdered by Dictator Morty's Guard. So we're down an apartment." Landlord Rick clicked his tongue.
Another Morty came from the kitchen carrying a tray of food.
Landlord Rick turned to him and signed to him.
The Morty nodded and set the tray down on the nearest table.
"Okay, Breakfast Rations are ready. Don't forget to thank Shop Assistant Rick for stealing us some bacon! One strip for everyone, be frugal with the cereal and the milk. We're on rations, people!"
Everyone dived on the tray, except Summer.
"So what's going on here, like?" She asked.
"What do you mean?" Landlord Rick asked.
"The weird affirmation, the references to Evil Morty being a dictator, the meeting, you call us 'members', the Nineteen Eighty-Four Morse Code knocking-"
"Get to the point."
"This is a Resistance Army, isn't it?" Summer asked.
A/N: Yes, Summer. Yes it is. You're in a resistance army against a version of your brother who is evil.
Rick's in a losing battle with his subconscious mind. More confessions to come. I don't think they're true for our Rick, but they possibly could be for some Rick out there. I don't know. It's just fun to speculate.
Why is Wheelchair Morty wallowing in self pity? Well I can tell you it's not because of his disabilities. But I can't tell you why. Because that will be revealed in time.
And what's going to come of Rick's Mindblowers? Find out soon, I guess.