The couple leaning against each other sleeping on the couch were so adorable it was sickening. Rick had no qualms whatsoever about what he was about to do. Besides, he had to remind Morty who he was. He was Rick fucking Sanchez, the closest thing this world had to a god, not some kicked puppy.
He braced himself as he pressed down on his airhorn. The awful noise consumed the whole house, and two pairs of eyes shot open, one brown and one blue. Morty let out something between a gasp and a scream while Liz just looked like she was about to go into cardiac arrest.
Morty wasted no time in grabbing his pillow and hurling it at Rick, who laughed loudly as it hit him in the chest. Since he had to nurse his wounded side, he needed to entertain himself somehow. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Morty grumbled as he rubbed his face, but there was no real anger in his voice. "I mean, seriously, very loudly waking a guy up twice in one morning!"
Liz just sat there blinking like a deer in headlights. "I think I need a Valium," she muttered, pushing herself up onto shaking legs and stumbling her way into the kitchen. Watching her, Rick immediately regretted his childish prank. It seemed everyone was right about him. He was nothing but a hurricane, causing only destruction wherever he went.
A pained sigh brought Rick's attention back to the couch where Morty was glaring up at him. "Did you really not think about how that was going to affect her anxiety?" he asked in irritation before stalking off into the kitchen after his girlfriend.
And just like that, Rick's good mood from the weekend was gone. Logically, Rick knew it was ridiculous to let one small mistake ruin all the progress he had made. Hell, he really did have a fun weekend with the three kids. But his emotions weren't listening to logic right now, so Rick did the only thing he could think to do.
He pushed his way into the garage, shut the door softly behind him, and was reaching for the new case of beer when the door suddenly opened again. "Summer!" Rick exclaimed, pasting on a false smile.
"I just wanted to say goodbye before I go back to school," Summer explained. She ran forward to give him a quick hug. "But I'll be back next week."
"See you soon," Rick replied, affectionately ruffling her hair. It seemed Summer was the only person he hadn't ruined yet, but it was bound to happen in time. He watched her retreat, closing the garage door behind her again.
Alone once more, Rick grabbed a bottle of beer and began chugging it. Whenever he had a problem, he turned straight to alcohol. He knew it was unhealthy, but he had been doing it since he was a teen, and he wasn't about to change.
'Goddamnit, Ricardo, you break everything you touch!' he heard his father's voice screaming at him.
With the look on Liz's face still fresh in his mind, he couldn't help but agree. The beer stung his throat as it went down, but Rick liked the way it felt.
Everyone would be better off without him. But killing himself was now out of the question. Now that he knew it would be his final, most devastating act of destruction, forever scarring the people he loved, he couldn't do that. But he could drink himself into an emotionless stupor.
The truth was, Rick knew he was toxic. He tried to act like he didn't care, but deep down he hated seeing everyone around him get dragged down. His parents, Diane, Beth, and now Morty. Too quickly, the drink was gone. He needed another.
Rick grabbed another can and began to down its contents. He had been toxic since birth. His parents had made that abundantly clear. He still remembered his dad, who would after beating him sigh in exasperation, "Look what you made me do, Ricardo!" And when his mother would clean his wounds, she would simply scold him. "If you weren't so much trouble, you wouldn't be in this mess in the first place." They had been happier before Rick, and likely were once they kicked him out on his eighteenth birthday.
And then there was Diane. They had been happy together, until Rick had built the portal gun and began spending more time off planet than on. Because what did he know about being a husband or a father? He hadn't exactly had good examples growing up. The light had slowly started to leave Diane's eyes, and it killed him, so he did what he did best. Run away. After all, he was toxic, and they were better off without him.
Why had he even come back in the first place?
How many drinks had he had now? Rick thought it was five, but he couldn't be sure. The Xilar stuff was strong. He was starting to get dizzy. Even sitting upright was a challenge. His vision blurred, and he was faintly aware that he had fallen off his chair and crumbled on the floor.
God, he was pathetic.
"Are you okay?" Morty asked gently, hugging Liz from behind.
Liz chuckled. "I'm fine, Morty," she replied.
"I'm sorry, he shouldn't have done that," Morty murmured.
With a sigh, Liz broke out of the hug so she could face Morty. "Seriously, Morty, it's okay. If I couldn't handle your grandpa... well... being himself, I wouldn't be here."
Morty gave a slight smile and nodded. "That's true," he said. "I just worry is all."
Liz rolled her eyes and smiled back. "You always worry about everything," she responded. "It's in your nature. But I'm fine, Morty. And I'll tell you if I'm not."
A loud thud from the garage quickly caught Morty's attention. It felt as if his heart stopped for a moment as he feared what trouble Rick had gotten himself into now, and right after being stitched up too. "We should go check on that," Liz said, pulling Morty out of his trance.
Morty nodded and rushed to the garage, not expecting to see the sight that lay before him. His grandfather lay in a heap on the floor, eyes shut tightly, tears carving a path down his cheek. "Rick!" Morty gasped as he ran over to him. He lifted his grandpa's shirt carefully and was relieved to see his stitches still in place. Next, he felt around his head, looking for unusual bumps or bruises. "I think he's okay," Morty said. "Just... really, really drunk."
"No kidding," Liz agreed. The green-haired girl knelt down to check Rick's pulse. "We should get him to bed."
Between the two of them, Morty and Liz didn't have any trouble lifting Rick to his feet and supporting him with their shoulders. Barely conscious, Rick moved his feet as the couple led him to his room. Once inside, Morty gently lowered the old man onto his cot. Gently, he removed Rick's lab coat, shoes, and socks. As he was placing them by Rick's bedside, Liz had sat down on the edge of his bed, looking at him sadly. "I wish you wouldn't drink so much," she said with a sigh.
"Halfta," Rick slurred, and Morty wondered if he was even in control over what he was saying.
Morty sat down on the opposite edge of Rick's bed and softly brushed the hair off his forehead. "Why do you have to?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.
"Ta keeme from 'membering," Rick murmured, opening his sad, brown eyes.
"Remembering what?" Morty probed.
"'Mmm toxic, Morty," Rick moaned.
"Pretty sure the only thing toxic about you is that shit in your bloodstream," Liz replied sympathetically.
Rick shook his head fervently before squeezing his eyes shut again and placing a hand on his temple. "Mom an Dad say so. Diane say so. Hurt Beth. Hurt e'ryone."
Morty sighed sadly. Rick never talked about his parents or grandma before, and Morty was starting to understand why. He and Liz exchanged sad looks. He placed his hand on Rick's shoulder. "That isn't true. Our lives have been so much better since you came back. Especially mine," he said.
Tears began to make their way down Rick's cheek. Morty shot Liz a panicked look. "I- I've never seen him like this before," he said shakily. "I don't know what to do."
"He's so drunk he's lost the ability to suppress his trauma," Liz replied. "Rick, can you hear me?" The man in question slightly nodded. "You are not the toxic one. You never were. Your parents treated you cruelly, and that's not your fault. I don't know what happened with Diane, but I'm sure it's a direct effect of your childhood. You have to forgive yourself for how you reacted to the terrible things done to you. Maybe you did hurt Beth, but here you are making amends. You're a good man, Rick Sanchez."
Morty's eyes raised slightly at the end of Liz's speech. "You really think that?" he asked in wonder. Hell, not even Morty thought he was a good man.
Liz nodded and whispered, "I do. He may act like an asshole, but deep down he's good."
Rick's soft snoring filled the room, and Morty looked down at him in consideration. Morty had seen him kill and steal with no remorse, but maybe Liz had a point. He may not necessarily be a good man, but that didn't mean he didn't have goodness inside of him.