A fan fiction collaboration between thetruecrystalvixen and Valetineluna.

'We fuel our fandom; we embrace the oddity and uniqueness with passion and elation.'

This is a cross-over fan fiction/ self-indulgence. Somewhat prompted and inspired by a discussion I had with someone over what our universe is to other realities.

Disclaimer: Characters based on any real (living or not) have had their names changed for obvious reasons of protection.

Rick and Morty (c) Justin Roiland and Dan Harmon

Undertale (c) Toby Fox

Gravity Falls (c) Alex Hirsch

Chapter One – Bottlecap

Clouds.

Spread across the horizon was a layer of clouds.

Not clouds of white fluffy decadence that brought forth images of resting in the grass and staring luridly at said clouds at whimsical shapes. No, these clouds were grey and foreboding. Not that grey clouds were ever bad- that usually entitled rain, which was certainly a good thing. Well… most of the time for nature, cleaning dusty roads, creating puddles for irate children to jump in and kick at others.

No- these clouds were pale grey; a depiction of ashen skies and gaunt faces of the near dead was more apt description. A young woman sighed, her gaze sliding down towards the pockmarked ground, eyes flitting over the straggles of grass that attempted to grow. The landlord didn't seem to care about the state of the community garden, which was not surprising in the least due to the cheap rent of the rooms.

The apartments were infested with mice and ill managed plumbing systems, the rooms tiny and oppressive with doors that only locked if you threw yourself against them. This always left bruises on the smaller framed or weaker inhabitants. In the hotter months, they were lucky if the mass cooling atop the roof worked for the hottest days or at all. Many a resident had deemed the community garden an eyesore to bother with, even in summer for sprinklers or paddling pool to survive the heat. In winter, they were lucky if they had heating at all as most of the fireplaces had been bricked in or removed.

Tapping her fingers on the windowsill, the woman brushed her hair from her eyes as she watched the oppressive weather darken slightly. With a huff she shook her head, there was no smell in the air, no tang of ozone nor palatable change, and it wasn't as if she expected rain. Just a change in the monotonic weather the town had been facing. Closing her eyes, she hummed softly, seeming to wait for something- or someone.

"You prayin' to gods or something Chére?" a slightly nasally yet ever-so-chirpy asked behind her.

Turning her head, she smiled at a woman wearing a button up shirt and slim fitting suit pants, carrying a creased jacket over one shoulder and a messenger bag over the other. With a smile 'Chére' replied, "If I was, I would ask them for a job," with a shrug she chuckled, "And a better place to live."

The taller woman laughed, shaking her head to the side as she set the messenger bag on the kitchen bench, along with several plastic shopping bags. "Well, they better do something soon, 'blathers' is asking about the rent again." She huffed, "Old crone just can't tell time when she has to fix something, but when the end of the month rolls around…" she threw up her free hand, "Look out! She has a Taser and a net to catch the checks!"

Chuckling at her roommate, Chére shook her head, "Well, if she learned compassion she would fix everything and everyone would pay on time." She stated as her fringe slide over her face, the ringlets curling around her cheeks, "I am telling you Lisa, if people were nicer to each other, we would all be better off."

Lisa shrugged and let out a sigh. She knew her older friend was a kind hearted woman, but she just couldn't grasp the concept of some people aren't forgivable or ever going to be kind. 'No' she thought, shaking that thought away, 'Chére knows that some people are nothing but bad. Yet she'll always try to help and forgive.'

Chére's brow furrowed as she watched her friends face crease in the repetitive way that showed she was quite adamant about the situation. "Lisa… please don't be sad over my views, you know that's how I am."

Within an instance, Lisa snorted and straightened up, "Nah, I'm not sad, not at all." She grinned widely, "In fact, I'm happy that you're the way you are." She continued, opening the shopping bags and began to place the items in their rightful places around the apartment. "You're a sweet girl, compassionate, interesting, charming," she started to list off Chére's attributes and traits as she saw them, while Chére herself was turning pink at the praise, replying in kind.

"No, no. Not at all," she stammered as she put the milk in the small dinky fridge that barely reached her hip, "You Lisa are brave, witty, charming, you speak your mind-"

"Hey, let me stop you right there Chére," the younger woman cried, pointing a carrot at the shorter woman, "I am in no way charming. I swear like sailor for fucks' sake."

"Expressive." Chére remarked, looking at her friend's deep frown.

Lisa stuck out her tongue, placing the last vegetable in the box next to the fridge, "Constipated face that inspires torture."

"Incredibly endearing, and ever-so-bold!" Chére chided softly.

Lisa snorted, "I'm an annoying ass, and pushy to the point of being a mini Hitler."

"A laugh that is adorable and cute, unique!" the chocolate haired woman raised her voice.

Blinking, Lisa looked at her like she was crazy, "I sound like a dolphin fucking a hyena! Or at least their ill-bred offspring!" she threw up her hands, "How in the gods names is that adorable to you, or to anyone for that matter?!"

Chére huffed, crossing her arms across her chest as she looked away, "I have never heard a laugh like it. It is refreshing. Unique and entirely real." She confessed, "You aren't lying when you laugh, it is something wonderful to know and realise."

Slowly, Lisa placed the loaf of bread she was going to throw and leant back against the counter, "Y-you think it's genuine?" Chére nodded, her face going slightly pink, "Chére…" she shook her head, "Scarlett… that means…" she chuckled, "I have no idea what it means, but it means something good to me."

With a shy smile, Scarlett tilts her head her hair bouncing off her cheek, "Don't forget it now." She teased, moving around the kitchen to gather up the now empty shopping bags. Placing them in a cupboard under the sink on a hook, she then straightened up, cracking her back as she stretched.

"Sounding a bit achy there Scarlett," Lisa mused, patting her friends back, "Careful you don't break something when you move your arms up." She hummed, her eyes flicking down to Scarlett's chest- which was now covered in spider webs and bits of onion husk.

"H-how, when did this happen?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she lowered her arms and brushed the gunk and refuse off her. Groaning in agitation, her eye twitched as the spider webs clung to her shirt with such determination that the webbing seemed to seep into the fabric.

Lisa sighed as she watched the pale woman make the problem worse. She moved to the sink, wetting the tea towel that hung outside the oven she turned around and started to gingerly clean Scarlett's shirt, "Chére, you make such messes, what am I going to do with you?"

The older woman was silent for a moment before she spoke, "If this was an anime or sitcom, you would say something prophetic, make my shirt worse or offer ah…" she blushed, then looked off to the side, too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

Continuing her cleaning, Lisa didn't look up to see the young woman's face- as she knew the poor dear would be too shy to say something if she was looking at her, "Yes?"

Tapping her fingers against the counter, "Offer me pleasantries…" Scarlett mumbled, her face a searing red, which made her icy-sapphire eyes pop even more in comparison.

Chuckling, Lisa set the cloth down in the sink and looked down into her companion's eyes, "Well Chére, we would enjoy it, most definitely," she winked as she looked away to the sink turning the hot water on, "We both know that we're nothing more than sisters and neither of us are the type we like."

Secretly, Lisa was enjoying burning the spider webs away, as she had a phobia of the arachnid family and anything associated to it.

Nodding, Scarlett tucked her hair behind her ears as she turned and leant against the bench next to Lisa, "That is true." With a small grin she bent and leaned her head on Lisa's shoulder, watching her wash the spider webs away under hot water, she closed her eyes, "Mmmhm, though it is impossible to find a person I would like in this boondock." She lamented, over the sheer hopelessness of ever meeting someone exciting, fun or even an academic of sorts in the proverbial cesspit they had the misfortune of living in.

With a laugh that echoed in the space, they occupied, Lisa grinned, "Chére, ya gotta have faith that something will happen or work out for the best."

Nodding Scarlett tucked her bangs behind her ears, "Did you get more margarine? I know you can't have oil." She asked, her eyes flicking up to her sister's slowly widening marine eyes.

As if on cue, Lisa swore and kicked out her foot, "I knew I forgot something!" she huffed and crossed her arms, her anger dissipating as she removed her glasses with one hand and rubbed the bridge of her nose with the other. "Okay, so I'll go out and get some damn marger-" she blinked as Scarlett held up a bottle cap, "So, going Fallout on me? I don't think the local supermarket deals in caps." She joked, shifting the mistake away to humour.

The older sister smiled and held the bottle cap in her forefinger and thumb, "Call it." She stated and smiled, shifting the metal disc to balance on her fisted hand, balancing on her thumb.

Lisa smirked; leaning back, she raised a brow, "Heads, the painted part." Scarlett nodded, flipping the cap into the air. The disc spun, flipping a multitude of times, the shiny metal glinting in the afternoon light- or what little seeped through the overcast sky. Clinking when it hit the faded linoleum floor, the bottle cap bounced and spun on its side and landed on the ribbed bottom. "Well, seems like I have to go out again." Lisa sighed, removing herself from the bench and moved to pick up her messenger bag.

"W-wait, shouldn't I go because I lost?" Scarlett asked, scooping the bottle cap up, fiddling with as she looked at Lisa, her brow furrowed.

Shotting the other brunette a wide smile, Lisa winked, "But I walk so far to bring the animal fat Chére, how can I serve my precious?" she cackled in a mock-Gollum voice before she sprinted to the front door and away, the door slamming shut behind her.

For a few moments, the older woman stood in the kitchen before a sad smile broke out on her face, "You don't have to do everything Lisa… you're a good person, n-not my mother or caretaker." She whispered softly to herself. Unaware of how long she stood there, staring at the bottle cap in her hands, Scarlett only shifted when she heard a scream and a thump from outside the kitchen window. Her head shooting up, the pale brunette rushed out through the kitchen, the living room and turned right and out into the community garden. As her heart hammered in the chest from the scream, Scarlett's eyes darted around as she looked for the source.

After a moment, she found the most logical source for the scream, a boy.

Moving through the overgrown grass and weeds to the prone form of a juvenile, Scarlett gently checked the boy for injuries; he seemed to have a bump on his head, scrapes and a few tiny burns. Shifting the teen, Scarlett dragged him inside her flat, somewhat thankful the unnamed boy was small, he didn't seem any taller than her.

Laying the pubescent, (if he was one) out on the raggedy, yet comfortable old couch in the living room. Pillowing the teen's head on a folded jacket, Scarlett darted to the kitchen to grab the first-aid kit and ice-pack. Returning, she sat on the coffee table and tended to the young man's injuries. Cleaning, disinfecting the wounds, applying burn salve to the angry raised markings, Scarlett soon finished and held an icepack to the teen's head. "How did you get so hurt little one?" she whispered softly, her brow furrowed in concern, "Did you fall from upstairs?" she asked aloud.

The problem with the teen was that Scarlett didn't recognise him, nothing seemed familiar in a sense of being a neighbours child or relative. The people of the block were relatively friendly with one another, they knew each other and mostly because they enjoyed to gripe over the sheer inadequacy of the property owner. Lisa was known as 'the sweets lady' due to her talent with cooking sweet treats and dessert, which she shared with everyone. Studying the teen, Scarlett brushed back his curly brown hair in worry, why hadn't someone looked for him?

A phone ringing in the background broke Scarlett from her thoughts. Standing, she pat the teen's shoulder, "I'll be back, then I'll ask around about who might know you, okay?" the older brunette smiled kindly as she moved through the domicile and to her room. Rifling through her nightstand, she pulled out her phone and answered it.

Her brother was calling.

"Yes, I'm home-" Scarlett answered calmly, her tone even.

"At home, or your hovel?" a slightly snarky voice asked, full of contempt.

Furrowing her brow, Scarlett exhaled and counted to three, "Of course, at MY home." She answered, looking round her room, books were littered everywhere, clothing was in a pile by her desk- when was the last time she cleaned her room?

Her brother laughed a sarcastic and bitter edge to the false mirth as Scarlett visibly wilted from the treatment. A laugh that seemed to determine how useful Scarlett was to him. "Can't you get anywhere better? I mean, how could you? With your useless fat ass, who'd let you rent somewhere when you can't even get a job?" he laughed again.

Silence met the man before Scarlett let out a sigh as she sat on the end of her bed, "What do you need Liam?" she answered softly, her voice wavering.

"Other than you to cook something- cause that's all you're good for," Liam snipped, "your stupid, retard cat is pissing me off. Pick her up to live with you." he stated, no room for argument.

"Aiden needs Rosie." Scarlett reminded him, their older brother adored cats more than anything else, "He loves cats and after he lost Blackie, he-" she continued before Liam made a sound of uncaring impatience that would certainly meant he would have glared at her if she was talking to him in person.

"I don't give a FUCK, what that sack of shit needs," he hissed, his voice full of venom, "I want that spastic cat gone, NOW."

Taking a deep breath, Scarlett reinforced her determination, "No, he needs Rosie. She's good for him and helps with his anxiety." The young woman stated, knowing that Ned desperately required the companionship. He was more socially awkward than she was shy and felt better around animals than he did around people.

"Just fucking do it, you useless whore!" Liam screamed at her before a cracking sound was heard through the speaker, "I'll break her neck otherwise."

*click*

The phone call had ended on her brother's terms- violence, hypothetical or not. Scarlett stared at the blinking phone icon as she felt a cold feeling spread from her gut to her heart and limbs. Slowly, Scarlett closed her eyes with a shaky breath and slipped her phone into her left pocket. Where had she gone wrong? She had tried her hardest to help raise her younger brother with her family, why was he so hostile? So angry and horrible to her and their older brother? Was he just acting out, or was he really just a horrible young man?

Leaving her room, which seemed so much colder, even with the warmth of her flowers and colour palette, the young woman returned to the living room and blinked. The couch was barren, save for her jacket, which was half on the floor. Frantically searching the flat, Scarlett went outside to the garden- he was not there. Rushing back inside, she fretted as she left the flat through the front door and checked the bare hallway and with each neighbour on the ground floor before going upstairs and checking with every neighbour on the first floor.

She did of course have the frame of mind to lock the flat doors, windows and cat-flap before leaving her domicile in search of the missing teen.

Thankfully, Scarlett's luck changed as she talked to the couple who lived above her flat and one to the right, they had seen an older man with the teen she described. Mister Jacobs looked at her with a kindly smile; informing her what the man looked like, suggesting that perhaps they were on the roof, working when the boy fell. Jane, Mister Jacobs wife of 30 years added that she had seen a flash of light above the window before her husband looked outside, she was adamant that the mystery pair were doing an experiment on the roof when something went wrong.

Taking the couples advice over the incident and where the boy and man could be, Scarlett thanked them for the tea and the helpful information. Leaving with a promise to return for tea another day, Scarlett walked down the hall to the stairwell and to the roof access. Pushing open the heavy door, which squealed in protest at the action, the young woman stepped out into the dappled light and looked around the roof. There was nothing more than the usual television antennae's, satellite dish, air vents, industrial and ancient air conditioner. Leaning against the wall beside the doorway, out of the pigeons pooping zone, Scarlett rubbed her eyes, what the heck was going on? Where had that kid gone?

Frustrated with worry, Scarlett left the roof and glumly returned to her and Lisa's flat before she gave herself an aneurism or fell of the roof from ammonia. Unlocking the flat, the brunette blinked as she saw Lisa in the hall, looking at her curiously, "Can I help you?" she said warily, concerned for her friend.

Lisa jerked her head to Scarlett's bedroom, "I thought you were in your room." She replied as she balanced a load of washing on her hip.

"I was out for a moment, so it couldn't have been me." Scarlett blinked, her brow furrowing, could have the kid come back and somehow gotten inside? No, that was ridiculous, why on earth would he come back to a place he was injured? He could have thought she was a bad person that hurt him or- no, she was only trying to help him.

"Then… was it One-eyed Tom?" the darker haired brunette asked, referring to the buttery yellow one-eyed cat that was friendly to Scarlett. The nuisance (to Lisa he was), had shown up months ago one night as Scarlett was outside helping one of the older neighbours spend time playing catch with their grandchild. The series of steps from the ground floor to solid ground was a problem for the majority of older residents in the block, having received numerous complaints; the landlord didn't listen to their pleas for access ramps.

"There was some noise, nothing much, just a thump and rustling." Lisa smirked, feeding the soiled clothing into the top loader washing machine, "Maybe he caught a mouse of decided that he hates that collar you fitted him with."

"I don't want someone to take him to the pound and kill him if he's a stray." Scarlett replied, finding the detergent and softener from the cupboard beside the washing machine.

Sighing, Lisa took the detergent and added the proper amount before tearing the softener bag open and dumping it into the receptacle, "You are too damn kind Chére." She smiled softly at her sister before she wrapped her arms around her and murmured into her ear, "And I wouldn't trade you for the world.

"It'd have to be a pretty shitty world to choose me over it." Scarlett said bitterly, anxiety and inadequacy hitting her heart.

"No." Lisa harrumphed with resolution, "You are Chére, wonderful, sweet and adorable as sin." She pulled back from Scarlett and looked at her with determined eyes until the older woman's anxious look turned into a slight smile, her cheeks darkening. "There they are, dem rosy cheeks." Lisa said cheerfully, pulling her older sister close again and hugged her.

A few moments after the tender exchange, the sisters broke apart.

"My turn to cook yeah?" Lisa beamed, all thoughts of the previous conversation vanishing or at least resting on the back burner of her crafty mind, "How about some delicious taco's?" she proposed, "I gots the cheese and tomatoes today."

Scarlett nodded, "Taco's sound good." She said quietly, still smiling with a pink face.

The younger woman pumped a fist as she turned the washing machine on, "Yeeeesh!" she grinned like a maniac and rushed to the kitchen, "Taco's mah sisteh from another misteh!" clanging and exuberant whoops came from the kitchen, "Margarine beeyotch!"

Shaking her head and closing her eyes, the pale woman slipped her shoes off and padded to her bedroom, the idea of informing the police of a missing teen flitting through her head. Was she being neglectful or a horrible person if she didn't do everything in her power for a situation she had no handle on. Sighing, Scarlett shook her head as she entered her bedroom, an odd sight beholding her eyes.

There was a folded piece of paper stuck to her personal computers screen.

Walking to her desk, Scarlett pulled the sticky note from the screen and brought it closer to her face to read. It was interesting to Scarlett as for one, she didn't have lined sticky notes- nor did she recognise the scrawl at a glance, one was somewhat neat, the other jagged and legible. The first part of the note read;

'Um, thanks for not hurting me taking my kidney like some creepy psycho.

I want to say thank you and you know, maybe hangout as thanks. I mean, if that's cool with you and all. I know I am, but ah, yeah.'

It seemed sincere and in the fashion a teen would write. Lowering her eyes, Scarlett chuckled at the second part of the note;

'Yo.

So my dorky spaz of a grandson wants to thank you. A good time or some shit for not being a psycho bitch. Look, just agree to get him off my back. I'm busy as fuck and don't need him hounding me and it's been only ten minutes since he woke up.

We'll pick you up for a movie or some other crap in a couple of days around 4:30PM.

Just do it, he won't shut the fuck up.'

Shaking her head in disbelief, Scarlett put the note down on her desk, she had to be hallucinating or dreaming. Why on earth would a stranger and his grandkid feel indebted? Even if she couldn't figure out the teen's motivation, Scarlett could perceive the grandfather's motivation, it was obvious. The old guy loved his grandchild, whether or not he made a fuss to throw the child off, he was legitimate in his love for the kid.

The rest of the day passed without incident, Scarlett fed some of the uncooked mince to One-eyed Tom as he came straight through the cat-flap at the back door when she unlocked it. Lisa enjoyed cooking up Taco's, complaining that their 'brother' from another mother was lazy when he didn't add lettuce, capsicum or tomatoes to his Taco's. Scarlett pointed out that Lisa never let her have onions in her Taco mince and the conversation quickly switched to Lisa's job at the local library.

As the night wore on, the sisters went about their routine, they cleaned up dinner, watched a few episodes of their favourite zombie show and eventually went their separate ways; Lisa to the shower and Scarlett to bed with One-eyed Tom.