Disclaimer: I don't own "Rick and Morty".
Author's Note: So this chapter will be kind of short and sorry about that, but I have to end chapters where I feel they should end...and this chapter kind of sets up the rest of the story, so it's a turning point for sure, and an important read for those who are following this story.
If anything is confusing you here, hang tight-all will be revealed in the future! As always, please R it keeps me motivated, and please PM me with any story ideas, thanks in advance!
More Chapters coming soon. (And less "than a year and a half...or longer").
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Morty was half-expecting some huge revelation, but Bird Person's statement was nothing he didn't know. It didn't make any sense either why Bird Person was making such a big deal about it. It was common knowledge that all Ricks were grandfathers of their Morties. What was the big deal?
"Yeah so what?!" Morty let loose in spite of himself, suddenly furious at not just Bird Person but everyone, "It doesn't make any d-d-d-difference, ya know, if h-h-h-he's my grand-grandpa or not, he's still reeally, you know, a completely horrible person! Does that mean I should, should care about him, j-just because he's my grandfather and, and w-we're related, and all? What about all the st-stuff he did to me ov-over the years?!" Morty was ranting and raving but he didn't care how bad it looked. He had pent up so much rage that he couldn't stop once he started. All the emotions he'd forced down to the pit of his stomach were exploding at once, as he stammered on through gasps of exhaustion, panting from his tirade, "you-you don't get it! He kidnapped me from my fam-family, I don't even know who they are!"
Tears of anguish overflowed but try though he might, Morty couldn't stop them, so he swung around, continuing haltingly, fists clenched into balls of fury,
"He-he treated me like a stupid p-piece of shit, and-ignored me when I wasn't helping him on his, you know, stupid errands, and, and, I went along with it, even when he f-forgot to feed me….b-because….what else was I supposed to do? Where, where was I supposed to go?...I stayed, because, because I was his pr-prisoner, and if I didn't do what he wanted, he, he went crazy! So….so what was I supposed to do?! You know…" Morty felt himself drifting off, letting his exhaustion lull himself into a half-waking, half-dreaming state, adding almost wistfully, "you know...sometimes...I fantasized about...about stealing his portal gun, and getting out on m-my own….and, one time, I actually tried…." Morty shut his eyes as tears fell freely now, "but….but he al-always caught me, and I paid for it...So….so, I-I don't get it-why should I care?"
Spent from the sudden flood of memories coming back, Morty collapsed onto the couch, suddenly unable to keep his head upright, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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He was woken gently much later by a soft hand on his forehead. He opened his eyes to see Bird Girl, who was caressing his forehead with her fingers, and Morty felt himself welling up at the kindness that she gave him unconditionally. He hoped she hadn't heard his crazy rant before. She probably wouldn't have wanted anything more to do with him. "Bird...Girl…?" Morty mumbled, hardly able to keep his eyelids aloft enough to see her soft and caring smile.
"Shhh," BIrd Girl said tenderly, and he felt a soft wet cloth on his forehead, "try to get some sleep….we'll talk in the morning."
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The smell of smoke and blood, and cries for help-his own unanswered cries, he realized helplessly-the sound of metal creaking and wheezing, the stench of burning flesh.
"Rrrrrick…." Morty heard his voice finally, hoarse and barely recognizable, filling his ears with its unending desperation.
Again, there was no answer. The sun was getting closer, threatening to burn him to a crisp. He knew Rick couldn't be far away, somewhere amongst the twisted metal and other debris, but he could hardly move. Okay Morty….one step at a time….Somehow, he managed to hoist himself up halfway to a sitting position by the palms of his hands, and attempted to half-crawl, half drag his way towards the still smoking wreckage.
The smell of blood and coal-charred flesh grew stronger, so strong that it took all of what was left of Morty's willpower to keep the bile from exploding out of his esophegous. He continued forward, his stiffened, non-responsive legs sliding lifelessly along the ground behind him.
Shuffling along by one hand, he used his free one to push aside the random pieces of scattered debris, and nearly fainted with relief when he saw a hand-Rick's hand-sticking out from under a piece of jagged metal that had pinned his arm to the ground.
"RICK!" Morty found his voice at last, and with suddenly renewed vigor, pushed himself towards the man who was his only hope of getting home. He knew Rick was badly injured (how bad, it didn't matter); all Morty cared about was that he had to make sure he could revive Rick and get them both home.
His mission was now removing each slab of heavy metal and whatever else had fallen on Rick in the crash, nearly obscuring his whole body from view. Rick still wasn't moving, and with each piece torn away, Morty's heart sank a little quicker. At one point, he came to a halt, because there was a huge pipe sticking straight out of Rick's abdomen, and that was where most of the blood was coming from, and Morty felt his head spinning; he was going to-
Morty braced himself as his body retched dry heaves; he hadn't had anything for breakfast or lunch, and mostly all that came up was bile. His hands shaking, he turned back towards Rick as he felt himself recover, and reached out with trembling fingers towards Rick's face, to remove the last piece of debris-
Morty yelped with horror and let the large piece of glass drop from his hand, shattering on the ground, and a shudder of terrified anguish ripped through him.
Only when he felt himself able to breath again, he forced his eyelids open and, to his shocked and unspeakable dismay, was Rick's face-covered with blood-completely torn apart-his body limp and lifeless.
A gasp of utter despair gripped Morty like a vice, and an inhuman cry of anguish erupted from the bottomless pit of his soul. Blindly he lurched forward, his hands clutching desperately man who he'd known all his life, who had raised him (and hadn't raised him), who knew him better than anyone else, and who suddenly he needed more than anyone else in the world….
…...Morty sobbed like a baby, the world around him falling out of view, until all that he knew was himself and the man whose body was now just a vessel that held his past and everything in it….sobbing until he didn't know himself any more….and darkness was a respite from madness, and loss, and pain….
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He was still sobbing when he awoke, and saw the sunlight streaming in. Here he was, alive, in Bird Person's birdhouse. How had he made it out alive? How were his legs still working so well? How was Rick still….
Morty shook his head, unwilling to accept the truth. When last he'd seen Rick, he'd been cold-stone….dead….and now, here he was, like nothing at all had happened.
It can't be true….how can it be true? Rick was right there, right next door….alive….still messed up, still a maniac, but….alive…..
….and Morty wanted nothing to do with him.
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"Summer?" Seeing the light was still on, Jerry poked his head in the door. "You okay, sweetheart?"
Summer was sitting still as a corpse on her bed, looking shell-shocked, and Jerry had an inkling she'd had another one of her nightmares. Without invitation he took a seat on his daughter's bed.
"Oh Daddy…." Summer collapsed into him and threw her arms around his neck, and Jerry, while surprised (she hadn't called him 'Daddy' in a long time) "Where are they?" she whimpered, and Jerry could feel her body shaking, and he tightened his grip on her and rocked her, slowly, and whispered soothing words until she went limp in his arms.
"It's going to be okay sweetheart," Jerry whispered to her sleeping form, as he bent to kiss his daughter softly on the head, before backing away slowly, careful not to wake her, and went off to his own bedroom.
Inside, Beth was sitting up with her laptop, a glass of wine in hand. She looked completely focused on whatever she was reading, and he knew better than to bother her.
She surprised him however when Beth turned towards her husband and said tersely, voice spoken through gritted teeth suppressed with unleashed rage, "I'm trying to look up what to do when you have an Intergalactic "Amber Alert" situation but I haven't found shit and you can bet we're putting Dad in a damn good rehab because he's going to sure as hell get his act together if he's going to stay with us again!" With that Beth slammed the lid of the laptop shut and stalked off with her glass of wine-surely, Jerry presumed, to replenish it with more.
Jerry shook his head with disgust, both at Rick for doing such an unspeakable thing and at himself for letting it happen. Too tired to make any of his own attempts at solving this puzzle, Jerry let himself drift off to sleep, but he didn't dream, and he didn't wake at all rested.
