The next morning, Mortimer was jolted awake by the alluring smell of sizzling eggs and bacon.
His headache was gone, and somehow, he was hungrier than he'd ever been in his life. With a vigor he'd never had, Mortimer leapt out of bed, and bounded down the hallway. He was halfway down the stairs when his foot caught something in the floorboards-and before he could stop himself, he was falling. He cried out, but it was too late; he tumbled down the stairs, crashing headfirst to the floor below.
Mortimer lay on the ground in shock. He couldn't move, and his body felt twisted. "H-h-help me-" he cried out, but his voice was weak, "H-HELP ME…" He could feel his life force draining from him. Was this how he was going to die?
In what was only a matter of moments but felt like years, Summer stood above him. "Oh my God, Morty!" Summer cried out, "what HAPPENED!?"
"I-I-I…" Mortimer was out of breath. "I f-f-fell…"
"I'll go get Grandpa Rick!" Summer didn't wait. She ran for the garage, where Rick was waiting.
"How bad is it?" Rick knew it was Summer by the way she came in without knocking. He didn't look up from his blueprints.
"Pretty bad…" Summer joined him by the table. "I hope you know what you're doing, Rick…" She bit her tongue. "I think he might have broken something…."
"Did he pass out?" Rick didn't seem in a hurry, which alarmed her.
"He's awake." Summer was trying very hard not to panic. "I don't think he can move. He's in there, waiting for you-"
"Let's do this," Rick declared with firm conviction. He had already retrieved the injector gun he'd invented which contained a potent cocktail of "broken body" serum, a bit of healer's salve, and a crushed-up purple pill. If all went well, Mortimer might not even know what hit him.
They found Mortimer in a rather painful and pitiful state, lying in a crumpled and twisted heap at the bottom of the stairs. Nothing had changed, as one leg still lay twisted painfully beneath the other. When Mortimer saw Rick coming up towards him with the injector gun, he looked up with eyes wide. He was terrified. "Wh-wh-what's THAT for?" he demanded in spite of his reluctance to actually know the answer.
"You're broken, Morty," Rick announced from above, his voice eerily calm. "This is gonna fix you right up-so let me do this, and let me do it right."
Mortimer shrank back, but he couldn't really move away from Rick even if he wanted to. "S-s-Summer!?" he cried out, "wh-wh-what's he gonna do!?"
"It's gonna help you, Morty," Summer told him calmly. She sat down on the floor beside Mortimer and grasped his shaking hand.
"I-I-I don't wanna die," Mortimer whimpered.
"That's what this is for, kiddo." Rick nodded at Summer, who squeezed Mortimer's hand.
"Squeeze my hand," Summer instructed him, "and shut your eyes."
Mortimer had never been so terrified before in his life. He squeezed Summer's hand with all his might and shut his eyes.
He felt the sting-it burned all the way in, and all the way out, as it left its mark on his backside. Mortimer yelped, and squeezed Summer's hand harder. Then the pain was gone.
"All done," Summer said, and pat him on the head as though he were a brave little puppy.
Mortimer let out a long and shaky sigh of relief.
"Ok," Rick said, "this is where I'm gonna prove to you that I'm a genius….Move your legs."
"But-" Mortimer gasped, "I-I-I CAN'T!"
Rick stared directly back at the kid, only to roll his eyes indifferently. "Yes you can."
"No!" Mortimer couldn't stop shaking. "M-m-my legs-they're BROKEN!"
"Try, Morty," Summer urged him. "Try to move them."
"I-I-I CAN'T!" Mortimer was panting, and his eyes were wide with terror.
"Morty…" Rick bent down in front of him. "Listen to me: I just injected something into you that can regrow dead cells, replace bad cells with good ones. It can regrow lifeblood. It can rebuild bones and cartilage. I could have injected something into you that could have done the exact opposite of that, but-I didn't! You're one of the lucky ones, Morty!" Rick was holding Mortimer's shoulders in a vice grip. "Now move your damned legs!" He shook the boy a little, trying to snap him out of his reverie, and Mortimer, too terrified to argue, did exactly as he was told-he willed his right leg to move and-to his amazement-it responded!
Rick let go of his shoulders, and Summer gasped as Mortimer untwisted his legs and sat upright, his eyes filling with wonder and awe at the sight of his body's sudden agility. "I-I can't believe it…" Mortimer's eyes filled with tears, but this time, they weren't tears of sadness; they were tears of joy. "M-my back doesn't even hurt…" He swung his arms around, amazed that he could move them like a propeller, and they weren't in any pain. "I-I think I can stand now…" He pushed himself upwards, and stood on his own two feet. Suddenly, he was hopping from one foot to the next, unable to stop himself. He wanted to dance. "S-s-Summer!" he exclaimed, eyes beaming with excitement and exhilaration at this sudden freedom, "L-LOOK at me, Summer!" Mortimer laughed out loud. "I-I can hop on one foot!" He bounced up and down on his right foot just to prove it. "I-I can hop on the OTHER foot!" Mortimer cried, and did the same with that one.
Summer giggled in spite of herself.
Mortimer kept hopping, his eyes smiling with delight. He looked like a happy little kid on Christmas. He even did a little dance, twirling around and around.
Then he did something Summer really wasn't expecting. Before she could stop him, he had bounded right over to Rick. "Y-you did this for me…" Mortimer stared up wistfully with admiration at the man he'd always thought was a monster. This time, instead of running away, he ran towards him, and threw his arms around the old man's waste. "Th-thank you…." Mortimer's voice was muffled against Rick's lab coat. "Thank you so much…"
Rick didn't respond. He didn't move. He just stood there, like a statue, as this strange kid hugged him. This kid who was a Morty, but who wasn't his Morty. This kid just kept hugging him, and Rick knew he had to put an end to it, or he was about to risk doing something-or saying something-he'd surely come to regret. "I-ummm…" Rick quickly wriggled his way out of the kid's unexpectedly strong grasp. "Iiii...uhhhhhh….I-I gotta go take a shit." He emphasized the carefully formulated words as much as possible. And then, Rick turned at once and sprinted out of the room as quick as his own legs would allow him. He bounded up the same stairs two at a time. He barely made it past the threshold of the bathroom before the first tear began to fall. He locked the door at once behind him, before turning the faucet on full blast so that nobody could hear the barely unrestrained sobs that forced their way out of him like a geyser that had exploded after being kept dormant inside for far too long.
Downstairs, Mortimer was simply standing in the center of the living room. He was still in shock. "H-he really helped me…" he spoke quietly to Summer, "didn't he?"
Summer didn't respond. She simply smiled sadly at Mortimer, then glanced longingly back towards the stairwell. She had seen the pained look on Rick's face before he'd run out of the room. "Morty, give me a sec, will you?" she guided the boy over to the couch. "Wait here for just a moment."
Mortimer simply nodded, still mystified by how good his limbs felt. He hopped a bit up and down with an excited smile, and nodded.
Summer crept upstairs. She heard the water running. "Grandpa?" She knocked on the bathroom door.
"Fuck off." The gruff voice that answered her was slightly muffled, wet, and nasal sounding. It was the only proof Summer needed to know that she was right.
Summer knew better than to persist. She left him to his privacy and rejoined Mortimer downstairs.
"Wh-where's Rick?" Mortimer asked, with a youthful excitement Summer hadn't seen before. "I-I really want to thank him some-somehow for, you know, helping me like that…"
"He'll be back down in a while," Summer smiled, pleased that Mortimer seemed to be willing to give her Rick a chance. Suddenly she had an idea. She opened the dusty cabinet under the TV table and pulled out an old board game of Monopoly.
"What's that?" Mortimer looked mystified by the cover.
"It's a game," Summer grinned, suddenly feeling like a child herself. "It's called Monopoly."
" 'Mon-op-o-ly…' " Mortimer turned the word over on his tongue. It was fun to say.
"It's great!" Summer hadn't played it since she was little, but suddenly she couldn't resist. She grinned excitedly at him. "You wanna play?"
"Alright!" Mortimer exclaimed. Suddenly he was ready for anything.