It was a Tuesday, and it had only been five minutes ago that Morty had closed the bathroom door behind him, prepared to be questioned by his parents or Summer about the bandaid between his eyebrows, only to be dragged through a portal by the collar of his shirt to a nowhere planet. An almost comically large gun was thrust into his hands by Rick, who turned around with a belch and started firing.
He slung the strap over his shoulders and joined his grandpa in shooting at the advancing aliens, facing in the opposite direction of the man who more than likely started whatever this was. He didn't even need Rick to berate him into firing this time, nor did he bother questioning what the foes had done to deserve this fate.
Amidst the blasting and grunts of pain, he heard Rick yelling gleefully. Morty glanced over his shoulder (still shooting, albeit blindly this time) and watched as Rick fired rapidly in every direction. He caught the determined grin on his grandpa's face as, one by one, the aliens collapsed to the ground with a thud, the glowing beam of a laser penetrating and splitting open each of their chests. His lab coat flowed behind him as though it were the cape of a hero. Morty narrowed his eyes.
He couldn't think of anyone who was less of a hero than Rick, who thought that firing randomly at aliens who were most likely only guilty of trying to kill him in self-defence after he committed some kind of terroristic act was a regular Tuesday. Yet, Morty felt nothing as he turned back around to see a few remaining aliens and a pile of corpses. Well, it was him or them- what choice did he have? Besides, he'd seen worse.
Eh. Just another Tuesday .
And that scared him far more than the approaching aliens that wanted him dead. The sharp pain in his chest almost convinced him that he'd been shot, but he was still alive, even if his breath was caught in his throat.
He froze, his eyes widening and his hands still resting on his gun. He ceased fire.
But, they still collapsed to the ground. The sound of shooting came to a stop. Silence, except for a pair of footsteps growing closer to him from behind. Morty felt a hand clap on his shoulder.
Morty looked up at Rick, taking note of his heavy eyelids and satisfied smirk as he surveyed his fallen foes.
"No need to thank me for saving your ass right there, Morty." Rick muttered through a belch, unscrewing the lid to his flask and taking a swig.
Morty looked back at the piles of corpses. His eyelids felt heavier. His heart didn't sink like it used to.
"Hey, Morty?" Rick slurred. He tapped the centre of his forehead several times. "What's with the bandaid? Do you like getting made fun of or…"
Rick trailed off and sipped from his flask again.
Instinctively, Morty reached up to the bandaid in question, which was stuck between his eyebrows almost vertically but at a slight diagonal angle. He'd forgotten that it was there (and what he'd been doing in the bathroom just before he'd been dragged here) up until then. The sensation when his fingertips brushed over the light stubble on the exposed areas of skin compelled him to drop his hand back to his side.
"Oh, um," Morty blurted, averting his gaze to the ground. "Just a shaving accident."
A/N: I based this on central-finite-curve's (Tumblr) animatic. It's really cool, so please consider checking it out!
If you're interested in seeing more of my writing, check out my work on here and/or my AO3 (bowlingforsoph), where I post not only my one-shots but my multichapter fics too. I'm only writing one of the latter at the minute, but there will definitely be more to come.