Standing rigidly beside Summer, Mortimer stared up at the Smith family house. Summer watched as Mortimer gazed wide-eyed up at the balcony, and then over at the basketball hoop, and the satellite dish, looking completely mystified like he had never seen them before.

Summer winced as a sharp pang shot through her, realizing that he probably never actually had seen a regular house, or a regular residential area like she had grown up in all these years.

Rick strode brusquely in front of them down the driveway towards the front path. "C'mon, kid, follow me," he instructed gruffly from over his shoulder in a grim, tight-lipped tone. "We-we can't let anyone out there see you-we, we gotta get you inside!"

He stopped in his tracks when he realized Mortimer wasn't following him. Instead, Mortimer was hiding just behind Summer and gripping hold of her tightly. He had come to see her as his protector. He didn't know anything about this Rick. "Wh-what's the deal with you, kid?" Rick pressed as he retreated back to where Mortimer and Summer were standing. "Th-this is gonna be your new home for a while-so-get used to it-and be grateful for your freedom."

The sound of muffled whimpering made Rick turn, and he couldn't help but stare in completely speechless exasperation: the boy was burying his face in Summer's shirt and holding onto her like she was his lifeline.

"I-" Summer grimaced as Mortimer hugged her tighter, and she couldn't resist returning the favor, hugging him closer. "I think he's scared."

"He'll have good reason to be scared if someone finds out he's here with us," Rick snapped. "Now come ON and follow me!"

"Hey." Summer crouched down in front of Mortimer, who suddenly looked about five years younger than he had already seemed to be. "It's okay," Summer whispered with as gentle and as calm a voice as she could muster, in spite of the circumstances. "I'll be here too-and I'll make sure to keep you safe."

Already halfway down the path, Rick rolled his eyes and groaned at what, to him, was a sickeningly heartwarming scene. "No time for that!" Rick snapped, not caring currently if he sounded harsh or not. He turned on his heels and started for the door. "Come ON!" he barked at them in as loud a whisper as he could muster without talking normally or shouting.

With a heavy sigh, Summer gripped Mortimer's hand tightly and coaxed him gently and urgently towards the front door. At first Mortimer let her lead, but as soon as they reached the threshold, the boy stopped. Summer glanced down with surprise as Mortimer's grip tightened within her grasp.

"Great." Rick groaned as he leaned against the doorframe with annoyance. "NOW what?"

"I don't know," Summer answered honestly. She couldn't help but show concern as she crouched down in front of the boy, who was staring blankly at the ground and trembling. "What's wrong?" Summer asked gently.

Mortimer didn't respond. He continued to remain in place, and stare pointedly at the concrete step below him.

Rick was beginning to get impatient. "This is rickdiculous!" he snapped, "We don't have time for-"

"Shut UP!" Summer hissed. She couldn't believe Rick's lack of compassion. "He's obviously nervous about coming inside! Maybe-we could get something to make him interested? Hey, you hungry?" Summer turned back to the strangely silent boy who would not move.

However, in response to her question, he nodded once in an emphatic "yes" motion, and Summer couldn't help but smile back at him in unexpected relief. "Oh thank goodness! RICK!" she barked over her shoulder, "Get him some food! I-I dunno-an apple?"

"From the looks of it," Rick snorted, "this kid hasn't eaten in days, Summer...an, uh, apple isn't going to be enough for him-"

"But it's a start!" Summer retorted with conviction. She wasn't going to let Rick's pessimism deter Morty from getting what he needed. Determined now, Summer turned back towards her new companion. "Hey-do you like apples?"

Once again, a nod confirmed yes, and Summer shot Rick a pointed look which said You see?

"FINE!" Rick threw his arms up in the air with disgust and stormed into the house.

"Don't worry 'bout him," Summer spoke to the painfully shy boy, whose age she could no longer fathom. "He's just really grumpy lots of the time." She forced a smile and added, "He's harmless, really...you'll like him," even as she wasn't sure she believed her own words. Mortimer didn't look up from the ground, but he replied with a tighter squeeze to Summer's palm. His hand was warm, and hers was beginning to sweat, but Summer didn't care; she was just glad that he was there.

"H-here you go-eat 'em up, kid-one apple," Rick announced upon his return, and tossed the apple through the doorway, "on the house...and there's, there's more where that comes from," he added, with a nod towards the inside. Surprisingly, Mortimer caught the apple upon reflex, only to stare at the object as though he'd never seen it before. "It's called an 'apple'," Rick teased, "maybe you heard of it?" It was then he noticed something he wished he hadn't: the boy was crying…..over an apple?

Mortimer was holding the apple to his chest as though it were a prized possession, and it just as well could have been, as it was true that he hadn't in fact eaten in days. Now that he was actually holding a piece of food in his hands, that had been given to him for free, he couldn't help but stare down at it as though he'd seen a ghost. Tears began to fill his eyes, and he couldn't stop shaking.

"Morty?" Summer spoke up abruptly in alarm, as she crouched back down towards him. "What's wrong? What happened-?"

"Th-th-thank y-y-y-you." The words were choked out in a hoarse and barely audible whisper, and suddenly, Mortimer's arms were around her neck. "I-I-I can't th-th-thank you e-e-enough-"

"You can thank us by getting the fuck inside!"

The response from Rick caused Summer to shoot a death glare at him from over her shoulder. "RICK!" she hissed. "GO INSIDE! I'LL take care of him! GOD!" She couldn't believe Rick's callousness. Meanwhile, she took Mortimer's hand, and to her relief, he let her lead him through the doorway and into the living room proper, where she sat him down on the couch. Rick, meanwhile, headed straight to the fridge to grab a beer. "SERIOUSLY Rick?" Summer rolled her eyes at him with exasperation. "Can't you just come and entertain our guest for just even a moment?"

"I never INVITED him here, SUMMER!" Rick nearly crushed the beer can in his fist before he even had a chance to open it. "You basically DEMANDED we take him-and now, we're SCREWED-unless I come up with a plan to get us out of this shithole you dug us into-YET AGAIN! Congratu-fucking-LATIONS!" With that, Rick stormed off towards the garage, slamming the door behind him.

A heavy silence filled the air in his wake, which was only punctured by Mortimer's muffled whimpers.

"H-h-he doesn't want me here," Mortimer stammered, his eyes only made larger by his tears, as he sat uncomfortably on the couch staring down sadly at his uneaten apple.

"Just ignore him," Summer encouraged. "He has….these...tantrums," she offered awkwardly by way of explanation. "He's like a big kid, once you get to know him." Yeah, Summer thought bitterly, A big CRANKY kid who's completely CRAZY to boot! "Hey," she smiled at the boy who might as well be her kid brother, "I'M glad you're here, Morty."

"M-M-Mortimer." As he spoke his name, the boy sank deeper into the couch as though he wanted to disappear.

"You want some popcorn?" Summer urged. "How bout some Coca-Cola?"

Mortimer sat up a little, eyes widening. "W-what's that?"

"It's a type of drink." Summer grinned at him. "It's called a soda! I'll go get it for you. Wait right here."

"NO don't leave!" He'd lunged towards her and had locked his arms around her waist.

Summer stared down at the trembling boy with great sadness. "I'll be right over there," she explained, pointing at the kitchen. "You'll be able to see me from here."

"O-o-Okay…." Still uncertain of his surroundings, Mortimer hesitantly released his hold of her waist. Everything in this new place was so bright and so strange-he didn't know what half of the objects in this room even were-and he didn't know what to expect next.

He sat still on the couch and watched Summer retrieve an object from the place she called the "kitchen". She returned holding the cylinder-shaped, shiny red and white object in her hand. It looked metallic, and Mortimer shrank away-was it some type of hand grenade?

A strange sound like a "POP!" made him dive towards the cushions, trying to bury himself in the couch as deep as he could go, covering his ears and waiting for impact. A tap on his shoulder made him cringe and attempt to dig himself in deeper.

"Morty," Summer attempted to call him out of hiding, "It's ready! Here's your soda!"

Mortimer peeked out from the couch. Summer was holding out the shiny metallic red and white container to him. He wasn't sure about the red and white container but he wanted to trust Summer, so he forced a small smile and accepted the gift. He gave it a sniff and grimaced; it smelled funny. He glanced back up at Summer questioningly. "I drink this?"

"Yep!" Summer grinned at him. "Drink it slowly though-it's a little fizzy-"

She wasn't expecting Mortimer to spit the first sip at her, all over her best favorite shirt. "Ack!" Summer shrieked, as some splattered on her face as well. She immediately checked her shirt, and sure enough, there were stains all down the middle.

"S-ss-s-Sorry-" Mortimer looked like he was possibly about to cry, which Summer really didn't want.

"I-it's okay…" It wasn't, but she didn't want to upset him by yelling. "I-I'll be right back okay?" she told him and went to go wash out the stain and change her shirt. When she returned, he was carefully sipping the soda, as though he were afraid it was going to explode. Upon seeing him sitting there with his first can of Coca-Cola, all anger drained from Summer's chest and she couldn't help but smile with relief, glad that he was enjoying it.

"Do you like it?" she prompted with forced cheerfulness, as she sat right next to him.

Mortimer simply nodded shyly in return, before taking a few more careful sips of the soda.

"You haven't had your apple," Summer noticed. "Want me to slice it up for you?"

"Wh-what do you mean?" Mortimer stared at her in wonder, causing Summer to pause and stare back at him; he looked like a deer in the headlights.

God, what did that Rick do to you? "I'll cut it into pieces so it's easier to chew," she explained, trying to hide her disbelief that he didn't know what she'd meant. She took his silence as a yes and retreated with his apple to the kitchen. When she returned with the cut-up apple slices and a dab of honey, she found Mortimer standing in front of the television set, as though he were mesmerized by it.

"What is this?" he asked when Summer came into the room.

Summer froze in place and gaped at him. "It's a television, silly," she chastised him teasingly, then immediately regretted it when Mortimer looked embarrassed and ashamed. Summer had an idea. She placed the plate of apple slices down for him and then, without a word, switched on the TV.

Immediately it came to life, and some show from interdimensional cable immediately started playing. Mortimer froze, his eyes widening as the box in front of him began to display the brightly colored moving images. He'd never seen anything like it; suddenly, he was seeing people he'd never seen before-none of who were Ricks of any kind-and it looked like they were holding some kind of animal on their backs, and jumping around-only they looked like they were happy about it, which he didn't understand; it looked painful.

"Ah! This one's great," Summer gushed, "It's called Saddleback Western Rodeo."

"T-turn it off!" Mortimer was hiding his face from the screen. He didn't want any of the animals getting hurt. "M-make them stop-!"

"It's just TV!" Summer chuckled a little, mystified by his overreaction. "They're not really-"

"Wh-wh-what are they doing to those animals!?"

"They're called horses-"

"T-t-TURN IT OFF!" Mortimer screeched at the top of her lungs so loud it left her ears ringing, and all Summer could do then was comply; she promptly switched off the screen.

Mortimer had sunk to the floor and was whimpering.

"OK," Summer sighed as she sat on the floor beside him. "They're gone." She tapped him lightly, and Mortimer slowly unhooked his hands from his face and looked up at her tentatively. "Still want your apple slices? They're ready and warm from the microwave oven."

"Micro-wave?" Mortimer blinked at her. "Are they like Morty-Waves?"

" 'Morty-Waves'?" Summer shook her head and giggled at the thought; she'd never heard of that concept before. That's definitely one to ask Rick about later. "I dunno, Morty," she teased him, "you tell me! But you better eat up-the apples are getting cold."

"My name is Mortimer." Mortimer had gingerly picked up the first apple slice. He thoroughly inspected it before giving it a lick. To his surprise, he liked the taste of it, and continued to gulp down the whole slice without chewing, practically choking on it in the process.

"Slowly!" Summer pat his back. "Here-dip it in the honey-I hope it's not too sweet-"

Mortimer went into a coughing fit as soon as he tried the honey. He wasn't used to sweet things. The only thing his Rick had ever reallly fed him was water and bread, and even then, the bread had never really tasted good. Even though he didn't like the honey, he was grateful for the food, and he ate another apple slice, this time managing to swallow it smoothly. "Th-thank you," he said when he was done, as he pushed the empty plate back at Summer.

"Hungry for anything else?"

Mortimer shook his head.

"Are you thirsty?"

Mortimer nodded without hesitation; even after eating the apple slices, his throat was painfully dry. "W-water, please," he replied as politely as possible. He still couldn't look her directly in her eyes when he spoke. He hoped she could tell he was grateful, because he was-in fact, more than grateful. This was the happiest moment of his life. He had never been treated with such kindness before-or with such respect, for that matter. He didn't understand it; she didn't even know him, so why was she being so nice to him? He'd never met anyone who wasn't a Rick, and he didn't even know that anyone like Summer even possibly existed. Every time she walked into the room, he couldn't help but look at her, and she felt strangely familiar like he was supposed to know her, only he didn't know her at all.

When she returned with the water, he drank it all at once, and then, he had to lay back against the sofa, because his eyelids were beginning to droop; it had been a very exciting, but very confusing day.

Summer noticed and grabbed the nearest throw blanket from the chair in the corner. Usually, she would have kept the blanket all to herself, but this time things were different. She covered the boy up to his chin and smoothed out the edges like her mother used to do.

She sat back and stared at him for a moment, as she watched his chest gently rise and fall. She couldn't believe how much he looked exactly like Morty-down to the same exact shirt and pants and sneakers-only this version of Morty really needed a haircut; in fact, what he really needed was a bath! He looked like he'd spent the night sleeping outdoors. It pained her to think of what he could have possibly gone through while in the clutches of that other Rick….

Summer glanced back towards the garage door. It had been strangely silent for quite some time, and-even though she knew he could more than take care of himself-she was beginning to get concerned about Rick. Leaving Mortimer asleep on the couch, she tiptoed down the hall and knocked politely on the door.

There wasn't an answer, and for a moment, Summer feared the worst-that perhaps Rick had done something unthinkable-or that he had maybe even left without saying goodbye-

She threw open the door and froze as waves of relief immediately flooded her veins. There was Rick, sitting in the chair, his head tilted back, and snoring-several empty bottles of beer lay strewn about on the garage floor. She could see the usual green drool pooling from his mouth and staining the collar of his lab coat.

Even though she couldn't stand his drinking, Summer smiled at the sight; at least he was still there and still breathing.

She closed the door behind her and went back to the living room to check on Mortimer. He was still fast asleep, one hand dangling over the lip of the couch, and he was also snoring, however lightly.

Summer took the other throw blanket in the living room and settled herself into the nearby chair. She would stay there keeping a watchful eye on him until he was awake again. She'd finally gotten her brother back again, and she wasn't about to start taking any chances.