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

Author's Note: I had to brace myself a bit for this chapter...don't worry; they won't all be so grim! I always appreciate your reviews and for taking the time to read my stories. This has to be one of the longest (if not the longest) story I've written to date, and definitely the longest "Rick and Morty" one, for sure!

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It was dusk when Rick returned.

Summer's body was gone; only the stains of her blood on the ground remained. He found the body what used to be the backyard, behind the fort, lying on the grass next to Jerry, and covered by a sheet. Jerry was sweating away and almost finished with a six feet deep hole.

"How...nice of you to finally join us," Jerry grunted dryly as he heaved another mound of dirt over his shoulder.

"Where's the kid?" He didn't bat an eyelid; Rick always cut quick to the chase.

"Inside," Jerry replied as he kept digging, "sleeping."

That was probably the best thing to do in this case, Rick realized. The kid's been through far too much already; he shouldn't have to attend two funerals in one day.

"Thanks," Rick said simply before leaving Jerry to finish the digging. Once inside the fort, he looked around the small cramped space made out of two-by-fours and other random objects, and found Morty, sitting there by himself on a small crate, staring at the wall.

"...Hey, M-Morty," Rick greeted his grandson's back, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible.

Morty didn't respond, and Rick wondered if there was even a point to talking right now, given what was going on in the backyard. "Hey...wanna go for a walk and get some ice cream? My treat," he added with as much gusto as he could measure.

"Mom's dead," said Morty.

The words, spoken so low that Rick could barely hear him. Other than those words, there was no sign of acknowledgment from Morty.

"Yeah," said Rick, glancing sharply away as a spontaneous vision of his daughter's corpse lying still on the table flashing briefly behind his eyes. "I know."

"No." It wasn't just the unusual monotone of Morty's voice that made Rick's skin crawl. It was the thin sliver of ice that coated his voice that made Rick's blood nearly run cold. "You...don't understand," said Morty softly, so softly that Rick could barely hear him, "it...happened...last year." Each word seemed to be a challenge, that made Rick's heart sink a little deeper. "She...got killed...just like...just like S-s-s-s-s..."

Morty couldn't finish the sentence as he scrunched up into a ball, putting his hands over his head, pushing his head as far deep into his lap as his face could possibly go. The sound that escaped his grandson's lips then was indefinable, as Morty rocked back and forth, his entire body trembling uncontrollably-

-and Rick felt the words, whatever words he would have said, die in his throat, and he knew right then, right there, that he had to leave-now-he had to get out of there. He couldn't stand there and watch Morty fall apart. Rick turned at once and ran out into the gathering darkness.

He ran for awhile until his throat felt so dry and parched he almost couldn't swallow. The quiet street had lead him straight into the center of town, which was a shambles; he was used to destruction and chaos, but this was one of his own making. Rick tried to ignore the groans and screams of the creatures that dragged themselves around aimlessly to and fro, searching desperately for food or water, lashing viciously out at those who would dare threaten to take anything away.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but it didn't matter; none of it did. He would keep going until there was nothing left, and he'd forgotten what he was running from.

And then, he saw it: the small, pathetic creature trapped underneath a piece of chrome and steel...it was crying desperately out for help, its eyes locked with his but for only a moment. He walked straight over to it and looked down at the creature who was crying and moaning, its amorphous looking body twisting every which way in a constant attempt to break free of its death trap.

"O-okay," Rick said urgently to the creature, "stop s-s-s-struggling! Don't move. Iiii'm much more stronger than I look." Bracing himself, he gripped either side of the bulky metal and pushed, upwards, pressing his whole upper body into the act, ignoring the trickles of sweat that instantly pooled on his forehead and trailed down his back and his sides; ignoring the creature's incessantly despondent cries for relief, and his own aching skull as he continued to push and to pry and pull at the piece of machinery that was attached to the badly disfigured vehicle.

He was almost there when, to his complete shock, a loud, eardrum splitting BANG followed by an equally loud and agonized squeal erupted from his left-and then, suddenly-all at once-there followed merely...silence. A silence so heavy that it could only mean one thing.

One quick glance to the left, and his suspicions were confirmed: the creature had sunken to the ground, motionless, eyes shut, face downwards. "...no...," Rick muttered, blinking down at the being that was no longer crying out in pain, lying in a heap of lifeless goo by his feet. All at once he let the metal drop, the heavy clank sending him to his knees on the pavement, kneeling down next to the creature he was trying his hardest to save. The creature remained where it was, as it was; the goo was beginning to slowly solidify. There was no point in telling if there was a pulse; and, even if there had been, he wouldn't have known where to look.

"Hey you!" A voice rose sharply from out of nowhere, bellowing at him from behind.

Rick froze, then slowly turned around towards the shout-a shout belonging to a voice he didn't even recognize. A strong and definably...female voice.

There, standing over him, looking down was a woman-not a creature-but an actual human. Rick's breath caught suddenly in his throat; it was suddenly hard to breath. Could this be one of his cruel fever dreams, toying with his emotions?...No, this had to be real...it was, in fact, a real live woman, simply standing there. She had pale skin and strikingly auburn-colored hair that was pointed wildly in every direction, much like his own, but incredibly unkempt. Her glowering eyes were a piercing green that left him weak in the knees. She was probably in her mid to late twenties. If this had been any other moment, Rick might have allowed himself a spontaneous gesture he would not have regretted...but this was here, and now, and it was then that Rick saw the weapon in her hands.

And it was all becoming painfully clear: she was responsible.

She'd shot the helpless creature dead.

"Murderer." The word escaped his lips with venom. He turned cold eyes of vengence on the criminal standing before him. An anger he'd never felt was burning through him, threatening to tear himself apart. "You-you murderer!" Before she could blink, he was on top of the unsuspecting stranger, knocking her down and attempting to pummel her-but somehow, she was freakishly stronger than even him, and she was managing to hold him off. "I-I fucking almost-almost had it!" He was rambling nonsense as he struggled against her defense. "It-the thing had a chance-and you-y-y-you fucking blew it!"

"Get the hell off of me-NOW!" With a force he wasn't expecting she gripped both sides of him and, using both of her feet, sent him flying in the opposite direction with an ease that, if he wasn't so incensed, might have even impressed him.

His face hit the ground, and right beside him, was her gun, a simple laser gun that even he could have made. Somehow, she had gotten lazy and let it fall from her hand in the scuffle. Scrambling for it blindly he snatched up the gun and she froze when she saw it in his hands. "Easy," she commanded him, which only made him unlock the barrel, preparing to shoot. Dammit-he wasn't used to killing girls-and his stupid fingers were shaking like crazy. He stared down at the gun, then back at the woman who suddenly looked terrified of him, and then he looked back at the creature itself, lying there in a pool of its own fluids, silent.

Without saying a word, Rick looked down at himself, before slowly turning the gun towards his own head.

"Forgive me," he said to no one...

...quickly shutting his eyes.