Note: Rating has gone up to M. Be forewarned that this part includes physical violence, blood, and attempted rape.
"Why is it that you only exist in C-137's dimension?"
She kept her glare directed at him as he paced around her, her shoulders tensing as he moved behind her, momentarily out of view. "How should I know? I'm not the one that specializes in this dimension-hopping bullshit. Aren't you Ricks supposed to be the geniuses?"
He stopped in front of her, his hands behind his back as he smirked at her. "We are. But that doesn't mean we know everything about everything."
A quiet moment passed as she stared into his eyes, so similar to her Rick's, but somehow so different; his cold, unwavering gaze sent shivers down her spine. She was trying to figure out what she could possibly say to him, how she could possibly get out of here, away from him.
His scarred lips widened as if he could read her thoughts, confident that she was at a loss in this situation.
"What do you want?" she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Isn't it obvio-eeugh-us?" He spread his arms out as if the room held the answer. "I want to kill your Rick, I want to use your Morty for my shield, and..." He lowered his arms to his sides as he looked her up and down slowly, blatantly. "I want you."
She frowned. "You can't have me."
"No?" He quirked his brow at her, a challenge posed as a question, the malicious grin never leaving his face.
Her eyes widened with worry, the tension leaving her shoulders, as she became unsure of what exactly he was going to do with her.
Suddenly, he lunged for her, grabbing a hold of her arms.
She had little time to react, but managed to free or arm from his grasp. She swung her fist at him, catching him square in the eye; she could hear her knuckles crack, and a sharp pain shoot through her arm.
His grip on her loosened as he stumbled back a few steps, a hand flying up to cover his injured eye.
"Ow..." she shook her hand as if shaking off some of the pain before observing the bruises already forming on her knuckles.
It was then she realized he was chuckling.
She looked up to see his hand falling away from his face, revealing...nothing. There was no bruising or sweeping where there should have been. Her mouth fell open in surprise, unable to voice any question before he was lunging at her again.
This time, he grabbed her arms fiercely, spinning her around and slamming her into the examination table in the center of the room. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her head down onto the cool steel; the force of it made her dizzy, black spots momentarily clouding her vision.
"Don't worry," she could hear somewhere through the haze as a leather strap roped tightly across her back.
Her vision was clear now, but she couldn't seem to focus her gaze on anything, her mind racing.
He ripped the back of her shirt open above the leather strap, baring her shoulders to the cool air. This couldn't be happening.
She could feel his lips by her ear. "I'll let you close your eyes and pretend it's C-137."
Then she felt a deep, stinging pain below her right shoulder blade.
A scream erupted from her throat, her body straining against the leather, her legs kicking out in an attempt to hit him, to make him stop.
"Ah-ah," he cooed somewhere above her. "You'll only make it worse."
"What are you doing!?" she screamed, eyes welling with tears as the pain spread further. She could feel warm rivulets slipping down her side, soaking the remains of her shirt beneath her; the tears were soaking her hair beneath her face.
"It's a-eeugh-a shame it has to be on your back. You won't-you'll never be able to see it."
She whined shrilly as a fresh flame of pain burst across her shoulder.
"But you'll always know it's here." There was a pause, but thankfully, new pain didn't emerge. "That you belong to me."
She flinched as he brushed his hand over her hair, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping it was over but knowing it wasn't.
"Now..." He leaned against her back, kicking her legs apart, the bulge in his pants throbbing against her leg.
Suddenly, there were shouts outside the door before it was burst open. Her heart leaped into her throat with hope, until she heard a voice she didn't recognize.
"We've got a problem!"
"Goddamnit," Evil Rick muttered, pushing away from her. "Don't go anywhere," he chuckled, dropping a scalpel on the table in front of her face.
She didn't see him leave.
Her gaze was focused on the blood staining the metal instrument. All she could do was wait, listening to the commotion outside and hoping for the best, while knowing the worst was likely. It wasn't much longer until the shouting stopped, and a moment later the door was opening.
She closed her eyes, clenching her hands into fists as she anticipated another painful touch. But it never came.
Instead, there were gentle fingers pulling the leather strap off of her, guiding her to stand and sit on the table where she had been laying a moment before. She looked up at the Guard, meeting his concerned gaze.
"Andromeda?"
It took a moment for her to nod, her mind and body beginning to feel numb and sluggish.
"I'm Rick K-317. You're uh... you're going to be okay. Rick G1047-35 is dead."
She looked down at her hands, then her gaze was distracted by the bloodied scalpel beside her, unmoved. She picked it up, the metal cool in her fingers.
K-317 placed a small white box beside her before he reached out and took the scalpel from her. "Let's get you cleaned up." He opened the box and placed the scalpel inside, pulling out a few other materials. He took a few moments to observe her, mentally cataloging her injuries: bruises on her knuckles from a punch, bruises on her arms from being grabbed, a bruise on her cheek from being slammed on the table, cuts beneath her right shoulder... Once he was finished, he moved to stand behind her.
"Why can't I keep it?" she asked suddenly, the numbness slowly lifting from her mind. She was now feeling exhausted.
"Why would you want to?"
She frowned, lacing her fingers together in her lap; she didn't have an answer.
"You know...C-137 is going to find out eventually," K-317 said quietly, dabbing at the cuts.
She inhaled sharply as the antiseptic stung her skin, the pain bringing fresh tears to her eyes for reasons other than the physical pain. "He'll find out in his own time." She wipes her eyes and looked over her shoulder, glaring at the guard. "But if you tell him before then, I will personally hunt you down and make you regret it."
He said nothing, simply retaining his solemn expression as he silently taped gauze over the cuts. When he was finished, he draped a blanket over her shoulders, his gentle fingers lingering for a moment longer. "I won't tell," he finally said softly, giving her good shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Notes: This one got pretty ugly. I think I made Evil Rick way more evil than I originally intended. I love his character, so I kind of feel guilty about this piece. Anyway, I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with it, but it will do for now. I also last minute decided to name this girl Andromeda? I also don't know if Evil Rick's dimension number is canon, or if that was just a random number on one of his screens, but I used that; if it's not obvious in the writing, Evil Rick cut his dimension number into her back. I totally made up K-317, whom I think will end up being a good friend from here on out. I'm also not sure how well I portrayed Andromeda's character after the trauma (or even during), so any critique on that would be extremely helpful.