~Cold Open~

Rick sat with one arm flung over the back of the couch as the TV blared, casually eating a box of Eyeholes. Behind the couch, Rachel was scowling as she dragged the unconscious body of Eyehole Man out to the garage.

"Save some for me, damn, I knocked the guy out!" she said, wiping her forehead as she unceremoniously tossed the cape-clad home intruder out of the house. Rick just burped, ruffling around in the box to fish out another. Rachel rolled her eyes, hopping over the back of the couch and plopping down next to the old man, snatching the box away.

"Good thinking with that booby trap," Rick said, glancing over as he flipped channels. "Wh- who, who would have guessed Eyehole Man's vision is thermal based and he'd fall for a microwaved sack of flour dummy?"

"Yeah, well, I guess you WOULD have to be a genius to pick up on the clues," the teenager replied, tossing an eyehole up in the air and catching it in her mouth. Rick laughed, snatching the next eyehole she tossed out of the air before she could catch it.

"You're a little asshole, you know that? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Oh, jeez Rick, yeah, I wonder!" Kicking her feet up on the coffee table, Rachel reached for her flask, modelling the stellar adult influence Rick had had on her thus far, taking a deep swig of whiskey. Rick's own flask was sitting open on the end table, but his smile faded just a bit as he watched Rachel drink.

"Hey, it's 8 am. Slow down a little, huh?" He wasn't really the type to give even a single shit about how drunk someone was, considering he was drunk like ninety percent of the time. But there was something unsettling about watching his protege slowly build up her tolerance to hard alcohol day by day, especially when it was his example that had led her to this kind of binge drinking. Rachel just scoffed at him, rescrewing the lid to her flask.

"Like you're one to talk, old man."

"Yeah….yeah, whatever I guess." Making a conscious decision to not care about it, Rick chose to ignore that little problem for the moment, going back to leisurely watching TV. But he couldn't really ignore it, not truly. She was only 16...even Rick hadn't been binge drinking like that at 16. "...But seriously, knock it off with the morning drinking."

"Okaaaay." The sarcasm was thick in her voice, but as Rick frowned at her, her grin died off as well. "What? ...Like, seriously?"

"Yeah, Rach, seriously. It's….it's not good for your liver."

"Um, says the guy who sleeps cuddled next to a full bottle of bourbon at night?"

"I'm old, Rachel! Plus I'm the guiding parental figure here. I can choose to do whatever I want to this ol- this old bag of bones. But what I say goes."

"You're not my dad." This was a phrase Rachel used often, but it was usually used in jest. Now she was staring directly at Rick, ever trace of a smile gone from her features. She wasn't joking.

"I may as well be!" Rick made a grab for her flask, but she jerked it out of his reach before he could get ahold of it. "Who bought you this house to live in, huh? Wh- who helped you get your driver's license? Who bought you the clothes on your back? And for that matter, who buys this booze?"

"Where the hell is this coming from?" Rachel stood up then, confused and angry at the sudden turn of Rick's demeanor. They were having a great morning, and he had to go and ruin it by being all paternal again? "You're NOT my dad, you're just some old guy who hangs around me because you NEED me."

"I need YOU!?"

"Yeah!" Defiantly taking another drink from her flask, a long one this time, draining it and tossing it on the couch. "Whether it's for some weird redemption arc or because you KNOW I'm getting smarter than you and you can't possibly let an asset like me run loose!"

"Jesus christ, Rachel, would you listen to yourself? You sound like-" Rick paused then. Who DID she sound like? Because spouting off grandiose and narcissistic assumptive assessments sounded a lot like….him. "...like an asshole!"

"'You're an asshole, Rachel,'" she mimicked, causing his eyes to bug out in indignance. "Why don't you tell me something I don't already know?"

"You shouldn't drink so much because it kills brain cells, you fucking moron!" Rick was standing now too, and the two of them were shouting at one another over the couch.

"And yet you do it? If you're such a genius, then-"

"When you've seen what I've seen and done what I've done, you GET to try and drown your misery in alcohol!"

"You have no idea what I've had to see and do!" Spinning around on her heel, she stomped off to the garage, cursing the whole way there. That last line made Rick roll his eyes; she was 16, what had she seen or done? He'd destroyed populations, watched friends die, caused a few friends to die….he was allowed to self medicate. She wasn't.

But Rick wasn't about to go chasing after her. She wouldn't have wanted him to anyway. Whenever they had a fight, one of them would retreat to the garage to work on their own projects and the other would do their own thing, and by dinner, it would have probably blown over already. So he just sat back down on the couch, and waited for dinner to roll around. Things would be less shouty and more normal by then.

But by 6pm, things were indeed less shouty, but they weren't back to normal. Rick had already ploughed through all the General Tsao's chicken in the takeout he'd ordered, but Rachel hadn't come out yet for her Lo Mein. And by 8 she still wasn't out of the garage to polish off the rest of the ice cream in the freezer. Rick hadn't even heard her come back into the house to get more booze. He was actually a little worried that she was going to hold a grudge, but what worried him more was the possibility that she had found his stash of off-planet liquor hidden in the garage.

"Rachel, don't touch my-" He stuck his head out into the garage, but was cut off when he saw that it was empty. "Wh- ...shit." Flipping the light on, he found the car still parked in the garage, and everything looked relatively normal. He didn't get it, where had she- ...And that was when it hit him. Patting his jacket pockets, he couldn't find his portal gun. Looking around, it wasn't on any of the work tables or shelves. Ripping drawers open, he couldn't find it. "No, no….shit!" Scrambling to find his sub ether phone, he tried calling her.

"Hey, you've got Rachel," she chirped on the other end, and Rick let out an audible sigh.

"Jesus kid, you- you scared me! Where the fuck did you-"

"Ha ha! Gotcha, this is just my voicemail! You know what to do!" Rubbing his face in frustration, he hung up before the tone sounded to leave a message. So she was gone, took his portal gun, and wasn't even answering her phone, so he couldn't get a lock on her location. Sinking down into one of the chairs at the desk, he groaned as he set his head down on the surface.

"What a fucking pain in my ass." he grumbled, sighing.

"What, the stick you've got shoved up it?" Rick sat straight up as Rachel stepped through a portal.

"Where the hell were you, Rach?" he asked, standing and approaching her as she crossed her arms. "And where the hell is my portal gun?" She rolled her eyes, pulling the gun out of her pocket and tossing it at him. He scrambled to catch it.

"Here's your precious gun," she scoffed. He set the gun down as soon as he made sure it was all in one piece, affixing the teen with a hard stare.

"Where were you?" he repeated.

"You're not my-"

"Not your dad, yeah, I got it. Rachel." Striding towards her and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Genetic progenetation doesn't mean shit! I take care of you. You tell me where you were." He was both stern and calm while he said this, and while he didn't look happy, he wasn't swinging into wild unhinged cursing or anger like he was prone to do. He was serious for once. All Rachel could do was stare, and her scowl slowly broke.

"I just….I was just checking something," she finally said, voice a bit quieter.

"Off planet? Different dimension? Where?"

"My mom's house…" She looked a little sheepish at that. "I walked but, I took your portal gun so I'd have a quick way to escape if he was there." Rick sighed, letting her go and rubbing his face again.

"Don't go there."

"Yeah, I know."

"It'll just make you sad. Trust me when I say this, but sometimes, you wanna go somewhere, see someone so bad, but you know if you do, it'll just….fuck everything up." He had a weird sort of misty look when he said this, but Rachel didn't notice; she was staring at her feet.

"Everything's already fucked up," she said in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, well it'll fuck you up worse." Turning to the door, "come on. It's cold out here."

"Hey Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"...Why did you start this whole argument?" She still looked a little upset, and hadn't budged from her spot. "You've never brought up my drinking before. In fact, you've actively encouraged me to drink more. So…." Rick didn't answer for a long time.

"Just-just get in the house, Rach."

"...Okay."

~Episode Two~

"You got fat." Rick watched Rachel as she perused through his garage workshop, picking up things to inspect them. Normally, he wouldn't want anyone touching his things, he wouldn't trust them not to fuck anything up. But he knew Rachel. She wasn't like the others. She looked over her shoulder at him, smirking.

"Says the old skeleton. You look even older than when you left." She laughed, shrugging off the big white coat she wore, one very similar in fashion to Rick's coat, actually; underneath she wore a long sweater over simple black clothes. She wasn't the skinny underfed 12 year old he'd encountered over a decade ago, and she wasn't the stringy, manic, alcoholic, amphetamine driven teen she'd been when he'd left. She'd filled out, but certainly not in a bad way. "You look older than almost any other Rick I've encountered, actually."

"Nice." He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe as he took a drink from his flask. Glancing away from her awkwardly, he wasn't really sure what to say next. What DO you say to your ex-protege who came back to try and kill you? "So, gonna finish the job, or what?"

"Gun's still charging up." She shrugged, inspecting the contraption Rick had been working on for a while now, a lamp-looking arm built onto the edge of one of his work tables. "You ever finish this? I remember the blueprints."

"...No, it's not operational." Rick walked over, shoving the arm of the suicide helmet away, swinging it towards the wall. "You scared the shit out of Beth. I mean, you scared the shit out of Jerry too, but, when isn't Jerry scared shitless?"

"Well, I'm sorry to Beth." She smirked, crossing her arms.

"And you put a hole through the ceiling."

"Yeah, I'm kinda good at that." Rick almost laughed at that, but he swallowed it, remaining stoic.

"Why are you here?"

"No one's here for any specific reason. Even you, Rick, aren't here for a reason." She was using his own pedantic drivel against him now, he knew it. God he hated that drivel. He hated that he was the one who taught her that.

"No, I mean why are you HERE. In my garage. Right now." She glanced sideways, walking over to the car; it was a little worse for wear from what she remembered but still looked good. She circled round to the hood.

"Kill you. Thought I made that obvious."

"No you aren't."

"You still powering this thing with my microverse battery?" Popping the hood, she smiled; there it was.

"I've made improvements. You're dodging my question." Rick walked over, slamming the hood of the car shut, staring down into Rachel's face. She stared right back at him, blank, unflinching. "Why are you here?"

"... You remember our last night together, right? Not too old to have forgotten?" Rick didn't have to think hard; of course he remembered. Years of alcoholism couldn't have wiped that memory from his brain, no matter how hard he'd tried. Rachel smirked, looking away first. "I really should have thanked you. It taught me valuable lessons."

"Like what?" Rick asked, not budging, his eyes following Rachel as she walked over to the pegboard on the wall, inspecting the various guns slung carelessly on the pegs, as if each one wasn't a death machine the likes of which this world had never seen. "That I'm an asshole that can't be trusted?"

"No. It taught me that toes are surprisingly dexterous when all you have to shoot a gun is your foot. Also taught me that your other dimensional selves make a lot of mistakes I knew you would never make.". She took out a portal gun from her pocket, not the one she came in with, tossing it to Rick. "Check the serial number."

"J-129C. Huh." Rick caught it with little effort, glancing at the piece of tape across the back scrawled with an alphanumeric code. "How many of these do you have?"

"I take one from every Rick I've gotten. Every Rick who was there that night."

"And I'm the last Rick huh? So, so, just going on your little revenge spree? Somehow, Rachel, somehow- ….I don't buy it."

"You weren't the last Rick, Rick." A look of what resembled hurt crossed her features momentarily. It quickly vanished though. "You were the first."

"Ohhh real deep." He sat down at his swivel chair, looking up at her. "Your quantum destabilizer Ray should be charged up by now. Why don't you just go ahead and shoot me now?"

"But we were having such a good time…." Checking the gun, he was right. Fully charged. And he was inviting her to shoot. But she couldn't. "...I fucking hate you."

"Yeah. I hate me too.". She turned to look at him, clearly miserable for the first time all night. That cold exterior she'd learned to put up from Rick cracked, and it cracked hard.

"Why'd you have to tell the council, Rick? About me?". Her voice wavered ever so slightly as she spoke, and she fought to suppress it. "You knew the other Rachels were dead."

"I didn't tell the council. I don't know how many times I have to keep telling you." Rick leaned his elbows on his knees, stooping and resting his face in his hands. "What did I gain from that night?"

"You never gain anything from your shitty decisions!" Her voice grew louder, and for the first time that night she was beginning to lose control. "You decided to abandon your daughter, and you decided to have me killed! Who knows why you're such a self sabotaging prick?"

"I didn't decide anything Rachel! The universe is chaotic and shit just happens!". Standing suddenly and throwing J-129C's portal gun at her; she dodged at it whizzed past her head. "Take your fucking souvenirs and leave! You don't have the balls to kill me anyway so why are you still hanging around!"

"That's always your excuse, isn't it? 'The universe is chaos!' Wake UP, Rick! You're not fucking stardust!" She was screaming this at this point, gesticulating wildly. "You're not a fucking Neutron star held captive to the whims and actions of the swirling cosmos around you! You're a man, a fucking father, who makes shitty decisions and constantly evades blame! And no one has the BALLS to pin you with that blame because the second they try to hold you accountable you fucking leave, or WORSE, eliminate them all together!" She was breathing heavy as she ranted, and for once Rick was...well, he physically shrunk back a bit. Despite being taller, and generally more inebriated, there was no way he could match the fury Rachel was spitting out right now. She was more mad in this instant than she had been when Rick had portal-hopped away from what he had assumed all those years ago was her death. "And the ONE time I messed up and tried to hold you accountable like a fucking human being, you turned me into the intergalactic force of narcissistic destruction that is the Council of Ricks to be DESTROYED!"

"I didn't-"

"Be quiet!" Hot, embarrassing tears leaked out of the corners of Rachel's eyes and she quickly tried to smear them away with the back of her sleeve. "Shut the fuck up! I didn't come here to kill you!" Throwing the gun full force on the ground, it misfired, shooting a hole through the garage door, a few seconds later a car alarm could be heard going off in the neighborhood. "I came here to see if you had changed! K-9924 told me that the Rick living in C-137, MY Rick, had gone back to one of the Smith families. I wanted to see if you'd really changed!" Wiping her face, scowling deeply at him. "But that was a fucking mistake."

"Yeah, maybe it was!"

"Maybe!" Taking out yet another portal gun, blasting a bright green, swirling portal into the ground. She scowled hard at the ground, before turning a slightly softer expression to Rick, right before she stepped into it. She was still breathing hard from shouting, but calming down fast. "...Maybe?"

"...Definitely." Turning away, Rick reached into his jacket and pulled out his flask. He raised it to his lips like he was going to take a drink, but paused, and glanced back. "...One for the road?"

"That's uncharacteristically generous of you," she said rather wryly, but reached for it all the same, taking a drink.

"Or just uncharacteristically sentimental," he replied, and there was a long silence between them again.

"Goodbye, Rick." Turning again to the portal, she grabbed her jacket, slinging the oversized white coat over her shoulders again.

"If you were a Rick, I would believe that goodbye." Rachel patted her pockets, making sure she had everything. "But you're a Rachel, so you're better off saying 'See you later.'" She just laughed a single, humorless laugh at that, before stepping into the portal in the ground, falling through, and closing it up behind her. And just like that, the garage was quiet again. Rick watched the spot she'd disappeared from for a while, before taking the steps back into the house, and flicking the garage light off. "...See you later, Rachel."

"Uh….Rick?" Morty peeked over the back of the couch as Rick sauntered back into the house. His grandfather didn't awknowledge him, though, as he turned down the hallway and made his way upstairs.

"Dad? Where did Rachel go?" Beth tried to follow him, but was almost shut out as Rick tried to close the door to his room in her face. She was quicker than that, though, and knew better by now; she stuck her foot in the doorway, keeping him from closing her out completely. "Dad?"

"She had to go. Just came for a quick chat," he said, rather unconvincingly.

"She tried to kill you."

"Not really." Rubbing the back of his neck, he spoke facing away from his daughter. "She's unpredictable, rash, a lot like you, Beth. But a lot like you, she could never really hurt me."

"Is she going to come back?" Beth felt a little let down, that Rachel had taken off so quickly. She'd been looking forward to getting to know her better, asking her more questions about her father when he was younger. Turning and seeing the disappointed look on Beth's face, Rick sighed.

"Probably. I said she's a lot like you; doesn't know when to quit."

"I get that from you, though," Beth said, somewhat playfully, as if she was teasing him, but Rick didn't laugh.

"Yeah. She does too."

~ After Credits Scene ~

Rachel fiddled with the panel in her palm; the damn thing was on the fritz again. There was a lot that Rachel could do that was on par with Rick, and a lot she could do that was better than Rick, but body augmentation had never been her strong suit. It'd been zapping her all night, and she was nowhere near her workshop or the correct tools she'd need to open up the entire arm panel and see what was causing the misfires. For now, the metaphorical 'bandaid' she'd slapped together to temporarily fix the issue would have to be enough.

From the other room, she could hear Rick burp loudly; part of her wanted to laugh, and part of her wanted to roll her eyes. The latter won out. Q-0901 was nice enough, not as offensive as most of the other Ricks. And since his retirement from the Citidel, had gotten just….. REALLY into golf. "Typical old man," she muttered to herself, closing up the sliding palm panel in her hand and sighing.

She'd snuffed out every Rick who had hunted her down, taken a shot at her, pulled a trigger, gave an order, or watched her suffer. Q-0901 hadn't been there that night, hadn't been in the dispatch room, hadn't given the order. But he'd been one of the Ricks that had encountered his own Rachel. That Rachel had only been 13 when Q-0901 had handed her over to the Council. She hadn't lasted very long in their clutches. Rachel wouldn't have even known if Q-0901 hadn't brought it up.

She'd met this Rick at what was akin to an intergalactic bus stop out past the Hendrix Helix in the Crab Nebula. She wouldn't have even given another Rick a passing glance, since he wasn't one of her targets, if he hadn't gotten her attention first.

"Whoa, you're a Rachel!" He had exclaimed. "Damn, look at you, all grown up! Which Rick kept you?"

Rachel hadn't liked the way he'd phrased that; kept her, like a pet. As if any Rick could domesticate her. Her own had tried, and he'd failed so hard he'd had to try and have her killed. He'd failed at that too. But she just nodded, she wasn't in an argumentative mood then. "C-137," she replied nonchalantly.

"You look good! Makes me wish I'd kept my own around!"

"You knew your Rachel?" she asked, surprised. Rachels weren't common. They didn't happen in every dimension. For every hundred Ricks, there was probably only a single Rachel.

"Yeah! Scrawny little thing. Had to turn her over though, she was getting too smart too fast."

"Oh."

"I guess C-137 was better equipped to keep you, huh? He was one of the Ricks who left his family early on, right?" The blase way he'd kept up their conversation, as if what he was saying wasn't deeply offensivce to Rachel really pissed her off.

"Yeah." She discreetly began charging her augment phazer; soon, this Rick wouldn't be taking such a nonchalant tone. But he just smiled, sitting down next to her.

"So, what have you been up to?" he asked, his morty sitting down on his other side; this Morty had seemed younger than your average morty. "Still with C-137?"

"...No, we parted ways." Her pinky finger nail briefly flashed lime green; the phazer was charged up.

"Shame. Hey, if you wanted to hang around me and my Morty, we were just about to hit Blips and Chitz! My old Rachel used to love that place!" Rachel paused then, her eyes narrowing just slightly. She definitely wanted to kill him but….. He was right. Rachels loved Blips and Chitz. Goddamn it, did she love that place.

"...You pay for the first round of Roy 2." was all she had said then. And now, here she was. Why did it always end up this way?

"What is wrong with me?" she whispered to herself, pulling her knees up to her chest. She HATED Rick. She hated him with every fiber in her body. She wanted to kill him, dismember him gruesomely, and yet it always ended like this. She pressed her palms to her face, and winced as her augment sent another little electric shock through her hand. "Fuck, I'm a mess."

"Hey, Rach!" Rick came back into the room holding a couple of beers, even though Rachel had told Rick she didn't drink anymore. "You suuuure you don't want one? It's a Korvelian brew from Korvealis!" He sat down on the bed beside her and waved the bottle in front of her with a sing song voice. "Korvelian hops, Rach! Sweetest in the galaxy!" But Rachel didn't look up, just kept her face hidden in her arms, his knees pulled up close. "Rach?"

It'd been a couple weeks since she'd seen Rick. HER Rick; C-137, or whatever it was he was calling himself now. That hadn't ended up how she'd wanted it to, either. 'Why?' she thought to herself, shrinking away when Q-0901 put a hand on her back. 'Why do I fuck everything up? I've fucked my whole life up; my parents, my siblings. I fucked up talking to C-137 and I've fucked up taking out countless other Ricks. It's always like this, why?'

"Hey, Rachel, what's wrong?" She peeked up at Q-0901; why was he so much nicer than the other Ricks? Was it just that he was so much stupider than the other Ricks? His IQ was still in the genius range but….

"I feel like a preying mantis," she mumbled, which elicited a laugh from Q-0901.

"Why?" he asked, shoving her playfully. She unravelled herself then, her pinky finger nail flashing lime green briefly. Her eyes were puffy.

"I kill everything I sleep with," she said simply, her hand folding away mechanically to reveal the true nature of her augment. Firing once, Q-0901 fell face first (or what was left of his face first) onto the bed; the hole left in his head from the phazer was left cauterized, so there was no blood to clean up. "And I only sleep with Ricks."