Again, sorry for the serious subject matter, I hope you all enjoy. If you have any suggestions feel free to PM me or leave a review.

2.

Morty was sitting in the front room, watching some TV show that his sister wanted to watch. Summer however had her eyes glued to her phone, fingers tapping away at the touch screen. There was a shout on the TV, a teenager screaming at her boyfriend for some betrayal. Morty would've usually argued with his sister, fought over the remote or something. Right now though he didn't really feel like watching much of anything, Mom was in the kitchen, collapsed over the counter on her umpteenth cup of wine.

Morty felt depression slip over him, it had been several weeks since his dad had been kicked out. The house was quieter, no more arguments. His mom however seemed to drink almost as much as grandpa Rick did.

There was the soft chime of the door bell. Morty looked over to his sister, Summer's gaze was still focused on the screen of her phone. Morty glanced over to the kitchen, he didn't think Mom was going anywhere anytime soon. Standing up he went to the door and opened it. It was his dad, a half drunk bottle of vodka in hand.

"H-h-hi, Jerr-Jerry," Morty said quietly, eyes down cast so he wouldn't have to see his father.

"So it's Jerry now," Jerry slurred viciously, pushing roughly past Morty to stumble into the house.

"Da-dad, where-where-where are you-"

Jerry however wasn't listening, walking drunkenly from the entryway towards the kitchen.

"I want to talk to the bitch."

Morty frowned, nervous anxiety stirring in him. He grabbed ineffectively at his father's arm, Jerry just dragging him with him towards the kitchen. The look on Beth's face was a mixture between shock and complete fury.

"What are you doing here?!" Beth bit out, she was a more seasoned drinker so her movements and cohesion were better than Jerry's.

Jerry raised an accusing arm, pointing at Beth. "You did this! You selfish bitch!"

"Pl-plea-please, dad," Morty begged.

He was ignored, Jerry pushing him away harshly so he hit up against the cabinets.

"Me the bitch?!" Beth said, voice raising.

"I'm not the one who is like a pathetic worm, jobless and so utterly dependent on praise and me holding your hand! You're a spineless, pathetic child! If anyone's the bitch here, it would be you!"

Summer chose that moment to enter, face at first expressing boredom but quickly morphing into surprise and worry.

"Dad? Mom? What's going on here?!"

She however was ignored just like Morty. Jerry took a step towards Beth, accusing arm waving up and down threateningly. Morty felt his stomach clench and he approached again, trying to get his bickering parents apart.

"C-c'mon, dad, mo-mom," Morty tried, hand reaching out for his father's arm once again.

It was roughly thrown off and Jerry took another step forward.

"That's not true Beth, you need me, you've always needed me!"

Beth shook her head, stepping closer so that the two were just a foot apart.

"You say that, but look who's the one who came crawling back! On your hands and knees Jerry!"

Jerry raised his hand, the one with the bottle in it. Instinct from the many adventures with Rick had Morty pushing himself between the two. A moment later and he was sprawled on the ground, something warm and sticky dripping down his head and everything fuzzy as he kept his eyes shut. Someone was screaming, it sounded a lot like Summer. Another person was yelling, anger lighting up their voice, that was his mom. The last voice was male, stuttering some kind of apology.

Morty blinked his eyes open, he felt like throwing up. Flopping gracelessly to his side he began vomiting all over the floor. Once done he rolled back onto his back and closed his eyes. His head hurt, that usually happened on his adventures with Rick.

"Grandpa?" Morty whispered.

Rick would show up, fix whatever the alien had done to Morty and they'd be on their way home. Rick would spout something about needing to finish whatever they were doing and then fix Morty. Another familiar voice entered the fray, screaming curses in that stuttering voice of his. Morty relaxed a little, Rick was here and he would fix this. Morty let himself pass out.

Morty woke up in his own bed, not remembering anything that had happened. A soft hand was on his forehead. He opened his eyes to see Summer seated next to him on the bed, one of his hands intertwined in her own.

"Summer?" Morty managed to weakly say.

Summer managed a weak smile.

"How are you doing, Morty?"

"O-o-okay, I-I guess."

Summer smiled at that but it was a weak smile tinged with bitterness. It did little to cheer Morty up and it didn't help with the fuzzy memories of exactly why he felt terrible and why his older sister was sitting next to him on his bed looking as if someone had died.

"That's good," Summer replied lamely, her phone clutched in her hands even though Morty could tell it was off.

She reached her hand out and brushed her fingertips over a spot on his head, the pain which Morty hadn't really registered spiked and he jerked away from her touch. Her hand flinched away and a apologetic look came on her face.

"I-I-uh-wha-what happened?" Morty wasn't remembering exactly what happened, the events fuzzy in his brain.

One thing he was sure of though was that it hadn't been part of one of Rick's adventures.

Summer bit her lip and she glanced nervously to the side, fingers twisting around her phone.

"What do you remember?"

Morty squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall the events that had lead to his head injury and Summer looking so serious and worried. It all came back, a snap as his memories came back to him. The door bell, his dad, both of them utterly inebriated. Morty paled and his chest tightened. He could hear Summer but he couldn't understand her.

She disappeared and Morty sunk back on his pillow, breathing haggard and mind frozen. Then the pungent smell of his grandfather enveloped him, followed quickly by the thin, callused fingers of his grandfather prodding at his face. Rick was talking but Morty's chest was still tight with anxiety and the room seemed to be floating. The fingers moved from his face and Morty was pulled from the bed and then shaken.

Morty's hearing came back to him, "-uuuucking pull yourself together Morty, ya, you, yoBLurrghu can't do this, pull you, you, your shiuuurpt, together Morty."

Morty blinked and was surprised to find tears in his eyes. His head was pounding and guilt and worry overwhelmed him. His parents hadn't just separated they had come to blows, his dad had tried to hurt his mom and he hadn't done anything about it. It felt like everything that had just happened was his fault.

Morty's stomach churned and he was surprised to find a small garbage bin roughly shoved in his lap by Rick. Seconds later he felt his stomach clench and then he was vomiting into the bin. A hand was rubbing his back and he was surprised to find that it was his grandfather offering the physical comfort.

"I shoulda, shoulda done this eeeaaaarlier, way way, sooner."

A small needle was slipped into Morty's forearm with a slight pinch that had him barely registering the movement. Immediately the pain in his head vanished and he felt his whole body relax. Morty slumped against Rick, eyes slipping shut and breathing evening out. He felt Rick run a hand through his hair before pulling Morty into a hug.

"To-told ya, Morty, told ya, I told ya, juuuuuust us, Rick and Morty, me ma-ma-man of the house. Nuh-never needed J-Jerry. Bastard got what he deserved."

Morty jerked a little at the implications of that sentence but whatever Rick had shot him up with was working in full and he felt himself quickly falling toward sleep. It felt strange to have Rick holding him but it made him feel safe in a way he had never experienced, Morty just let himself fall asleep to the pungent smell of his grandfather and the sharp limbs that ensconced him.