Disclaimer: I don't own "Rick and Morty".

Author's Note: There will be a connection between this backstory and the current timeline. (Don't worry, I haven't forgotten-it all comes together in the end!)

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Maybe I'm dreaming, Rick thought. Maybe none of this is real.

Normally the idea would have terrified him, but today, it was a welcome thought.

Meanwhile, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and he couldn't seem to move at all.

The stranger in the ceiling was still talking to him, but he might as well have been talking in a foreign tongue.

The Gaurdian was still dead with a bullet in his skull.

"Hey KID? KID!" The stranger was shouting at him, and Rick forced his eyes open, turning back towards the ceiling.

"Did you hear anything I just said? I was squanching a whole introduction to you."

"W-wh-what…." Rick felt lightheaded and had to sit down. He squatted in the nearest stool. "Wh-who the fuck are you-wh-wh-what are you-wh-wh-what are you doing here at all?" They were only three out of thousands of questions he wanted to have answered, but Rick was far too exhausted from everything to persist. He wanted to go back to his hole and sleep.

"Like I told you Kid. Name's Squanchy, from the Planet Squanch, located in the Squanchiest Quadron of the Squanchahedron Cluster found within the squanchiest of Squanchy Ways."

Rick's mind was doing cartwheels. "Sq-squancha-squanchahed-what?"

"And you must be the result of the latest Reproductive Intelligence Cloning Karyology," Squanchy continued, "also known as: 'R.I.C.K.'"

Rick shook his head with astonishment, "Re-re-repro-Kary...what!?"

"All in good time my friend; clearly you've been sheltered for far too long." Squanchy seemed pleased by their little interlude, and Rick had to steady himself against the dull ache in his head that was beginning to grow into a migraine. "So…" Squanchy's voice turned grim, "what should we do about the Mr., down there? I was thinking we could leave him pent up in a cooling chamber; you might be aware that bodies tend to stay pretty well preserved in there."

Who was this guy? Rick didn't like the sound of this. The stranger was far too friendly for having just met Rick; he spoke funny, and if the Gaurdian had kept him locked up-without telling Rick about his presence-there had to have been a pretty good reason. Rick stared down at the gun on the floor by the body. He picked it up and peered into the metal chamber: it was still warm, and there was still one bullet left. He'd actually never used a gun before, but he'd seen the Gaurdian do it himself many times. It looked fairly easy to use.

Rick carefully placed the gun down inside his pants pocket and looked up at the ceiling with narrowed eyes. There was something about this 'Squanchy' that Rick didn't like; he was way too sure of himself, and who was to say that Squanchy hadn't set the whole thing up? (That wire mesh looked pretty flimsy, and could the Gaurdian have ever really turned a gun on himself?) None of this made any sense, and Rick was beginning to wonder. "Who says y-y-you're helping me do anything?" Rick challenged with a growl. "I'm not g-going anywhere with you. Got it?" Without waiting for an answer, Rick began searching throughout for the portal gun. Please, don't let it be in the Gaurdian's pocket….The lab coat was dotted with splatches of dried blood. He couldn't bare the thought of touching it, nor even taking a glimpse into the Gaurdian's eyes.

"Where do you plan to go?" Squanchy's question halted him in his tracks. Rick had never been out of the lab without the Gaurdian. The question opened a whole new world of possibilities. It fascinated him as well as equal parts terrified him.

"Away," was his solemn answer. It was as vague as he could be, but the last thing he wanted was for this Squanchy person to start following him-or worse yet, take him hostage and start torturing him for whatever reason.

"Sounds like you have quite a plan there," was Squanchy's pat answer, and Rick's stomach coiled with disgust and barely contained rage at the obvious amusement in his voice. "But you know-if you let me out-I can take you to Planet Squanch with me-and trust me, you'll have a much better time squanchin' there than you ever would in this dump. Plus," Squanchy's voice turned conspiratorial, "I know where your little friend's precious portal gun is!"

Rick nearly walked into a desk in disbelief. "You kn-kn-know wh-wh-wh-" Fed up with his inability to complete his task, and tired of his stupid stutter, out of frustration, he found himself striking a foot out at the nearest chest of drawers, cringing in pain as his foot connected brutally with the drawer's protruding metal handle. "OwwowwowwOW!"

"Easy there kid. Easy."

"I'm NOT a f-f-f-fucking k-k-k-KID! STOP calling me a 'KID'-OKAY!? Rick slammed his hand down on the nearest desk and sat down in the first seat he could find, spent. Why was this happening to him? Why couldn't this just be like any other day? He would get up, drink, he and the Gaurdian would go on a quest; he would go to bed feeling fulfilled, feeling like he had some kind of purpose in the world….

"Look," said Squanchy (and his voice was softer this time), "I know you're scared kid. It's a scary squanching world out there. But believe me kid, it's better than places like this. You've got choices out there kid….you can go anywhere you want now! You've got the keys to your freedom right in that drawer by the mainframe server terminal, right over there."

Rick's heart leapt with unbidden excitement: The portal gun: his ticket out of this mess. In spite of his anticipation of departure, Rick found himself suddenly unsure if he even wanted to leave. He'd only known the lab his whole life. Squanchy might as well be a murderous criminal. He could take over the lab and make his own inventions. He'd always wanted to create his own inventions. He'd finally be able to find out what was in that tattered old worn book that he'd seen on the shelf. He'd seen the Gaurdian reading it, referring to it during his various experiments, leafing through it every so often; there had to be something mindblowing in there that he could use for himself someday.

"I'll help you out if you let me outta here kid," Squanchy was saying from above, "I know how to use a portal gun. You don't-and I know the coordinates to lots of cool places, including some that you guys have been to! Being up here has had its advantages-sometimes you can just squanch a lot better from a higher perspective; ya know?"

Rick wanted to believe him. He felt the gun in his pocket, running his finger over the slowly cooling steel. He wouldn't have left an extra bullet behind. Rick pulled open the drawer that Squanchy had indicated: and there it was, right before him: the portal gun. Rick reached for it with a trembling hand. A sigh of accomplishment escaped his lips as his fingers closed at last around the hoister.

"Feels good," said Squanchy, "doesn't it, kid?"

Rick wouldn't have admitted it either way, but it did; he had always wanted to touch the gun, and here it was, right there, in his hand.

It was his portal gun now-and he could go anywhere he wished.

Strangely, the room was beginning to blur; Rick felt his throat constricting, and his body trembled with exclamation. A strange sound of relief burst unexpectedly from his throat. He didn't know what this feeling was, but it was stronger than any he'd ever felt before. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he had never before experienced what he could only describe as a strange sense of inner peace.

"So….." Squanchy's jarring, grating voice interrupted his thoughts, "you gonna let me out, kid, or what?"

Rick didn't respond. He had found himself smiling-and he hadn't smiled in a very long time.

He was ready for anything now.

He had a plan.