"So do we have to send him to a counselor? Get him professional help?"

Summer hadn't stopped talking since Morty had left the room, she was worried and nervous. She wanted to make sure she was doing the right thing for her brother, but talking to Rick was like talking to an alien being. He practically was. He deflected her concerns completely with "Don't worry about it, Summer" and eventually just grunting in response while he messed with parts. Was this situation a normal thing for her grandpa? Or was he just so unconcerned with Morty's well-being that he could blow this off? And then Morty...Morty tells her if she's worried she should go to Rick. Was this how he was always going to act? Would that really be a good idea? Maybe her brother wasn't making the right judgment calls at this exact moment in time.

"S-Summer," Rick started, an actual response this time, "the 'professionals' need more help than Morty does, trust me. I'm positive I can find a b-better solution somewhere, but for now let's-let's just try t-uuuuurp- to keep his mind off it."

Summer was only half listening since she hadn't expected anything. "Well in TV shows they always take them to a hospital, to monitor them to make sure they don't do it again. Chances are higher soon after it happens!" Summer looked at the open garage door nervously.

Rick had been messing with parts to reconfigure the system back to using a real time crystal rather than some synthetic bullshit, which was difficult to focus on when Summer was talking his ear off, but he knew now was not the time to tell her to shut up. Honestly, he didn't want her too. Listening to her kept his thoughts at bay. It was easy to follow her line of thinking, though, even while distracted. "Christ, Summer, it's been 30 seconds. It takes you longer to go to the bathroom."

"That's all the time he needs!" she insisted.

Rick whipped around to look at her full on, which he hadn't done since her earlier outburst. To Summer it was quite a shock. She hadn't noticed earlier, but Rick looked horrible. Not in the standard way, her grandpa had always been all wrinkles, tired lines, and a bit of drool, but the way his mouth set in a tight, inward line as he bit his lip. The way his eyes were half open with a dismal reflection, not tired or glazed as per the norm. They were fully aware and weak, repressing apprehensive thoughts. The way his body was shaking, glaringly obvious by the parts he held tightly in his hands, trembling in his grip.

Maybe he really was as scared as she was.

"I-I-I don't like it either, Summer, but I want to trust him s-so I'm going to give him at least a minute before I-before I break down his bedroom door, ok?"

Summer was stunned, but it didn't make her silent. Her grandpa put on this facade that he was all logic and formulas, but the logical thing would be as she said, to stay with Morty. As much as he tried to hide it, her grandpa did have feelings and for once he was letting them cloud his judgment.

"God, do you hear yourself? It's not a matter of trust, grandpa. There are things you can and can't control and Morty can't handle this...these illnesses by himself. He needs medicine, he needs to be watched, he needs help."

"So wh-what, we're going to watch his every move?!" Rick burst out in frustration, banging an open palm against his thigh. "Should I stop taking him with me t-to make sure he's under careful supervision? Because I have things I need to do and I can't stare at him all day. And I'm sure he'll love it when I keep him at home. Keep him under Jerry's watchful eye. Because that'll go well, since Jerry has the attention span of a cock-cocker spaniel. And are you gonna keep an eye on him while you're both at school? Follow him into his classes? The bathroom? Make sure he's safe?"

Summer didn't back down. He was being outrageous. "I'm not talking about here, I'm talking about a hospital! They know how to deal with this, they've handled this before."

"And they'll kick him out of there after, what, a few days, maybe a week. And then what? Th-there's an after, Summer. This isn't the flu, it's not just gonna disappear on its own," he looked at her with what he hoped was a steady gaze, hammering his point home, "It's gonna be like this forever and Morty needs our support but he also needs to learn how to deal on his own."

Summer scoffed, "Now is not the time to let him deal with it! If he could do that, he wouldn't have tried in the first place!" It was clear by her tone that she felt, no, knew she was right. The whiny notes of 'Why won't you listen to me?' clear as crystal.

Fucking teenagers, acting like they knew everything. It pissed Rick off. He wanted to tell her that he'd left him alone before, when he let Morty shower, and nothing had happened, he'd been fine! But one instance didn't cover every one after. And if he told her that she'd only get more agitated. What bothered him more than her certainty was that she might be right. Maybe Morty shouldn't be alone. Rick had been wrestling this all day, wanting to watch him, wanting to leave him be. Nonexistant-God, he'd been conflicted for months and it seemed he'd made the wrong choices already. That was why he didn't know what to do. What made it worse was knowing this was partly on him. That his actions had pushed Morty. They hadn't tipped him over the edge like his panic attack, but if he hadn't put so much pressure on him, if he hadn't kept that voucher, if he hadn't been such an insufferable dick this could have been avoided. Laying all this blame on himself made him uncertain and drudged up other thoughts as distractions. The thoughts he'd recently shoved back into their respective shame corner disgusted him. The things Summer brought up irritated him. His fears overwhelmed him.

"I know that, Summer, I-I know he tried to kill himself, I was there! But he's going to have to learn to go it alone! I did!" Rick bellowed, momentarily losing control of himself as he stood to face her, "I can't always save him, Summer, I'm not going to be here forever!"

That was the reality, wasn't it? He'd had that at the forefront of his mind ever since he'd grabbed the cleanser for Morty. Sure, he tried to think about other topics, but it all came back to that. He hated thinking about mortality as a rule, but Morty had made it impossible not too. Morty's suicide attempt, remembering Rick G-107s suicide, his old age, his own suicidal tendencies, he wanted so much for those things not to matter but they did. He could avoid death for a while, but he couldn't live forever. He didn't like the idea of not existing. Yet, crazily enough, his fear of death could never put a damper on his own self-destructive urges. He was trapped in this cage match between living it up and burning it down. Strange how he could have such a strong desire to die while doing everything in his power to prevent the rest of the world from harming him.

When he did have his own suicidal thoughts, there were two things that stopped him: his curiosity and his family. Learning was the point of living, whether it was creating a new invention, finding the best mini golf course in the galaxy, or even discovering the most sensitive part of someone else's body in the bedroom. That was the fun stuff. Family was a more serious matter. If he wasn't around, what would that do to Morty? To Beth? To Summer? Jerry would throw a party, but the rest of the family cared abut him for some fucking reason. Beth and Summer, they would get over it, but Morty was always bent out of shape if he wasn't in grandpa's good graces. If Rick was gone completely, Morty could overreact and Rick wouldn't be able to do anything. He couldn't pop up with some alien antidote. It would just be Morty, alone. That's why he had to toughen up, but it was also why he was calling a family meeting. Support would probably help, not that Rick knew much about that, but it seemed like a solid idea. They all needed to know so they could help him, not just while Rick was still around, but after too. Hopefully after. If Morty didn't die first.

Now Rick's eyes made their way to the door with Summer's worry behind them. His gaze caught Summer's shocked expression as he did. She'd taken in his words, she knew that was something he usually wouldn't admit, and it was enough to keep her quiet.

When his gaze locked onto the open garage door, he didn't just see the kitchen backdrop. Morty was standing there, goggles in hand and a bewildered expression on his face.

"H-hey..."