TW for non-witnessed/inferred, attempted sexual assault against a minor (I don't actually use the scene and don't go into any details). Because King Jellybean is a fucking pedo.
…
January, Same day as the Fantasy World Excursion
It was unbearably slow going. They'd been climbing down for at least an hour at that point. Rick and Phoebe were both in a foul mood by then.
"Yeah, Morty, this is the part of the story everybody loves, scaling down 650,000 oversized steps!" What they had to do sucked great big elephant cock but Rick's bitching was starting to wear on her nerves more than climbing down.
"All right, okay, you know, if this was a story, this part wouldn't be included, stupid," Morty said impatiently.
Phoebe sported a...mouse hole? She let go of the rough 'wall' of the step with one hand and pointed. "Morty, what's that?"
Morty squinted, then brightened. "Hey, Rick, what do you know? Look down there at what Phoebe found! Looks like some kind of tavern or something built right into the side of the step."
Once they had all gotten to the top of the next step they investigated. It was a tavern just as Morty guessed, one called The Thirsty Step. Morty was once more in his element. "Oh, wow, Rick, Phoebe. Now, this is more like it. Look, there's little staircase-shaped people in here. All kinds of crazy characters. This place is great, you know? It's whimsical and fun."
There were indeed staircase-shaped people, and other odd characters like hammer-shaped people. As they walked through the tavern to an empty booth, Phoebe found one of the staircase-shaped people staring towards them, though she wasn't sure if it was looking at her or at Rick. Rick, who'd been looking around, saw the staring, too.
"What are you looking at, motherfucker?" he snarled, slamming his hands down on the table and taking a half step forward and to the side so that his body blocked most of the view she had.
"Hey, hey, easy, Rick," Morty soothed.
"Calm down, Rick, I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it," Phoebe said. "I don't think he was stepping up to you or whatever."
"He won't if he knows what's good for him," Rick threatened.
They finally reached a booth and sat. Phoebe sat with Morty almost automatically because she was so used to sitting down across from Rick when they went drinking.
A plump waitress with huge breasts came to their table. "Pay them no mind. Those stair goblins can be moody. Now, what can I getcha? We've got skarlog poppies, flurlow, halzingers, bloogies, juicy time babies."
"What about spiced rum?" Phoebe asked.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, how about some scotch whiskey?" Rick added. "You got any of that around here? Or just a bunch of nonsense words?"
Morty glared at them both. Phoebe hardly felt that she deserved to be lumped in with Rick's antics. "Rick, Phoebe... We'll have three bloogies, please. And, uh, we were wondering, is there a faster way two heroes could get down these stairs?
A disgusting slug in the next booth spoke up, his head turning to look over the top at them. "Y'all need to ride down the stairs? My name is slippely-slippery stair." He slid out of the booth, a saddle on his middle. How...convenient. Did he do this for a living? Did he just hang out in the tavern to take people up and down the stairs? "I'll take you down there for 25 shmeckels."
"What the fuck is a shmeckel?" Phoebe wondered aloud.
"Twenty-five shmeckels?" Rick said skeptically, waving his arms about, "I don't know how much—I don't know what that is. Is that a lot? Is it a little?"
"That's exactly how much I spent on my big fake boobies," the waitress told them, shimmying her chest at them. Her boobs bounced obscenely.
Phoebe lowered her head to the table and let it thunk a little. Un-fucking-believable. This was far weirder for her than either the anatomy park or the rectum stuffed with Mega Seeds. She tried desperately to block out someone asking to buy the waitresses' fake breasts and the ensuing conversation about it.
"Morty, your adventure's in a spiral," Rick said. "For real, man, time to pull out. It's something everyone should learn. You gotta pull out before mistakes happen."
Internally Phoebe was screaming. Did Rick just make a pulling out joke?
"You keep heckling my adventure, Rick! You know why?"
"Uh, because it's lame?" Rick drawled.
"Because Rick and I are being emotionally scarred?" Phoebe interrupted, her voice muffled by her arms.
"It's because you're petty, Rick! And emotionally scarred, Phoebe? How do you think I felt after what happened on our last adventure? You know, how many times have I had to follow you into some nonsensical bull crap? I always roll with the punches, you two. Why can't you? Look, I got to take a leak, and when I come back, if you haven't learned how to lighten up, don't be here!"
Rick waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever."
Morty got up abruptly for the bathroom. Phoebe lifted her head. "Wait, Morty, take a knife!" She called.
"He's already gone," Rick said. He glared at the wood of the booth as if it had personally wronged him. "This whole thing is idiotic."
"Some parts of it weren't so bad," Phoebe disagreed, "in context. I mean, the threat of jail was bad, but this part might be okay." She nudged his leg with her foot under the table. "Besides, don't you and me usually make the most of things when shit hits the fan? We've come back from way worse than something you find tame and boring."
"I guess," Rick conceded. "Doesn't mean I have to like this stupid ass 'adventure' of Morty's." He made air quotes around the word adventure.
Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Behave."
The big titty waitress came back with their drinks on a tray. She plunked then on the table and left. Phoebe reached to take a sip then promptly spit it out after her face screwed up in disgust. "Ugh, that's fucking repulsive," she stuck out her tongue and gagged.
Rick pulled his own over and took a drink. His brow wrinkled. "Tastes like sour dog piss," he said, pushing it away.
"Yeah." Phoebe clasped her hands and looked over her fingers at him. "They have karaoke. I saw the stage when we came in."
Rick scowled. "I am not—"
"Rick, I'm going to make sure you enjoy yourself doing something today, so come on, get up, I know you like to sing." She slid out of the booth and held a hand out to him.
"I can get out on my own, I'm not that old," he snapped as he stood up next to her.
"Don't worry, I know how limber you are from all the times we've been chased or nearly killed," Phoebe said. "Now come on, you won't regret it."
He took his hip flask out and took a long pull from it.
"Can I have a swallow to wash out the taste of that swill?" Phoebe asked. She was startled but privately pleased when Rick held it out to her. She sniffed it. Hmm, vodka. Acceptable. She sipped until she measured about a shot in her mouth, then swallowed and handed it back. "Thanks."
"If I didn't let you, you'd be up my ass about it," he shrugged.
They made their way over to the stage and got on together. Five minutes later they were harmonizing much better than she suspected either of them would have believed otherwise.
"Sweet home Alabama," Rick and Phoebe sang smoothly together. "Where the skies are so blue."
Once they finished the crowd wanted an encore performance. After a second round met with a (very drunk) standing ovation, Rick decided to go over and play cards with a group of the bar's patrons. He seemed to be in higher spirits to Phoebe, which made her feel incredibly accomplished. His mood earlier could have curdled milk. Now that she didn't have to look out for him she struck out on her own. There were no takers for the karaoke stage, so she decided to sing a song by herself. Rick had picked the last one, so she picked this one rather than polling the crowd. It was her solo after all, and she didn't get a choice last time. It was only fair she choose this time. She yo-yo-ed between Holy and Young God, then resolved to do both if there were still no takers.
She readjusted the mic nervously, hoping Rick wouldn't mock her for her song choice. She took a deep breath, suddenly realizing that she felt a lot braver singing in front of a crowd, even a small, dinky, half-drunk crowd in a dingy bar, with Rick by her side. But if she could slay monsters and talk to her father, surely she could sing karaoke? It was karaoke. Hardly anyone was good at it. It didn't matter if she screwed up the notes or the words; most people sang off key, and depending on their level of sobriety, forgot word and slurred along to the same line repeatedly. Her shoulders straightened and she leaned in to the mic, the first words falling out of her lips after a last shaky breath.
"I ain't got no time, no
'Cause when this day is done
I still got shit to run
I could make it for you
'Cause you're so beautiful
I'd rather drink you up."
Over at the card table, Rick paused before making his move, half his attention on his cards and half of it vaguely interested in what Phoebe chose. He'd never heard it before. It sounded like it could be pop-y and that was all he knew. He had no idea what Phoebe liked, as he only had the one French song to go off of.
"Honey, on your knees when you look at me
I'm dressed like a fucking queen and you're begging, "please"
I rule with the velvet tongue
And my dress undone
And I'll get you lost but I'm having fun
Holy, holy, holy, yeah
Holy, holy, holy, holy"
Rick scowled down at his cards, shifting around in his seat uncomfortably, crossing his legs, and suddenly finding the cards in his hand much more interesting than they'd been before. He lost himself in the game and focused solely on thoroughly trouncing his opponents. When Phoebe finally came over after the end of the song and a round of playing darts, she didn't know he'd ever been listening.
XXX
"Read 'em and weep, fellas!" Rick exclaimed as Morty came back. Phoebe had been sitting nearby not playing. "Hey Morty," Phoebe chirped, seeing him first.
Her greeting alerted Rick to Morty's presence. He'd been concentrating fiercely on playing and she hadn't been able to speak to him at all. "Oh, hey, Morty. Listen, I'm really sorry about all that stuff I said earlier about your adventure. I'm havin' a good time, Morty. It's not so bad."
"Yeah, we both sang Karaoke, I played a round of darts and Rick's been killing it at cards." Her smile faltered. Morty seemed...off somehow.
She got an even stronger feeling that something was wrong when he spoke. "Let's just go home, okay? I'm calling it. The adventure's over." That was odd after all they'd been through today and his persistence to carry on despite it all. Had something happened in the bathroom?
"We can't leave now, Morty. I'm on fire!" Rick spoke without looking at Morty or paying close attention. He really had racked up some decent winnings.
Morty took to begging him and Phoebe just knew something happened in the bathroom. "Look, I want to leave now. You win the bet, okay? Just give me the portal gun and let's go, please. Please, I just want to go home." He tried taking the portal gun himself and Phoebe's eyes narrowed. Only certain things happened in bathrooms that would make Morty want to leave so abruptly, and none of those things were good. She might really be going to jail here.
She looked at Rick and saw him looking toward the bathrooms. She followed his gaze to see a badly beaten blue jellybean figure stumble out of the men's bathroom. Oh. My. Gods. Her hand, which had inadvertently delved into one of the weapons pockets, squeezed the handle of a knife. She looked at Rick again. He was looking at her and must have seen the look on her face. He nodded minutely and she felt fire in her blood.
"Okay. Listen, Morty," Rick said with only a moment's pause. "I just won a bunch of shmeckels. Why don't we use 25 of them to pay Slippery Stair here for a ride back to the village, and then we'll give the rest of the shmeckels to the villagers, huh?"
"Really?" Morty sounded a little cheered.
"Sure, Morty. Yeah. You know, a good adventure needs a good ending." Rick's face was tight, his lips smiling but his eyes blazing. Phoebe shivered. They were going to kill that jellybean together if they ran across him before they left. They made the arrangements with Slippery and before she knew it they were all on his back going down much faster than before. Morty sat in the broad saddle in front of her and she clutched him to her chest protectively. Rick sat behind her, his arms around them both. His body was stiff and Phoebe just knew he had to be plotting all the ways they could get away with murder.
XXX
The three of them rode in on the slug, no longer clinging to each other for dear life. Instead of holding Morty, Phoebe's arms were wrapped around herself. They were immediately sighted by the same man that spoke to Morty earlier. "Thank you, kind sir. Our village is saved! You are all three true heroes!"
"Good job, Morty. Looks like you won the bet." Rick's voice sounded like it usually did—mostly. There was something underneath it that Phoebe heard. She figured he could hear the same in hers, some soft, dangerous element of carefully controlled calm and murderous intent.
"Yeah, nice job picking, Morty." Phoebe affectionately slung her arm around Morty's shoulders in a quick side hug. She hoped he couldn't feel her shaking from repressed rage.
"Thanks, Rick, but I don't know if I should. You know, you were right about the universe. It's a crazy and chaotic place."
Phoebe stayed silent so she wouldn't cry or hit someone. She was an angry crier and she was feeling murderous.
"Well, you know, maybe that's why it could use a little cleaning up every now and then, you know. This one's wrapped up neat and clean because we did it Morty style."
Oh my gods, is this Rick's version of being caring? They both suspected that Morty had been violated in the bathroom.
The peasant spoke again. "Oh! Heroes, we would like to introduce you to our beloved king so that he may thank you personally."
To her horror, Phoebe saw them carrying the jellybean man toward them on a throne. He wore a crown and other monarch-related regalia. No fucking way.
An obviously terrified Morty said, "Uh, no, I-it's cool." To Rick he hissed, "Rick. Portal. Hurry."
Rick opened a portal and the three of them stepped through. Phoebe grabbed Rick's wrist in a crushing grip and pressed into his skin with her fingers. She hoped it translated as wait. "Morty, why don't you go lie down and rest and I'll make you a cake later," she said in a rush, "to celebrate. I'll wake you when it's done."
"Oh, um, sure, okay. That sounds like a great idea. Thanks Phoebe." He didn't even look back as he left the garage.
As soon as he was through the door Phoebe whipped around to Rick. Their eyes met, and she just knew, though no words were spoken, that they were on the same page. He took two guns from his pocket, the energy pistol and the electrocution pistol. He handed her the latter. The portal opened. They checked to see if things were as they had been less than a minute before. Assured they were, their arms raised at the same time. With perfect aim, they fired side by side. They hit home, the portal closing to screams as the jellybean pervert exploded all over his subjects.
XXX
Later that night, hours after learning about the disastrous end result of leaving Beth, Jerry, and Summer (mainly Jerry) alone with the Meeseeks Box, and after serving a delicious triple chocolate cake to Morty, Phoebe wandered downstairs in her Tweety Bird thermal pajamas, and slipped outback. She was surprised to see Rick there smoking a joint and reclining in a lawn chair. The chair was turned away from her, the smoke wafting into the cool night air.
"I didn't know you smoked," she said casually, leaning against the cool glass of the door.
Rick held it out to her. "Yeah. Want some?"
She shook her head. "No thanks. I don't care if other people do it but it never tickled my fancy." She went over and grabbed one of the remaining chairs and drug it out to him. She dropped into it with a grunt, her the blue of the pajama pants snuggly hugging her long brown legs looking brighter and bluer in the moonlight as she pulled her knees to her chest and tucked them under her chin. "I can't stop thinking about it," she whispered. "You know." She waved her hand vaguely at the upper story of the house.
"If you mean Morty probably being molested in the bathroom by a pervert, yeah, I can't either." He took a particularly long drag, not coughing or spluttering once. Phoebe stared. He must have lungs of steel, years of experience, or both.
"I thought you knew, especially when we killed him together, but I just…"
"Yeah, it's fucked up," Rick drawled.
"It's none of our faults. We had no way of knowing—"
Rick interrupted her. "Don't coddle me, Phoebe—"
She interrupted Rick. "You're not a god or a seer, Rick!" You can't predict everything. Sometimes bad things happen."
Rick laughed, an action that confused her until the bitterness and darkness in it hit her. "What was that about?" She squinted to see his face in the dark. He was looking at the night sky.
"You sounded like Máte just then," he said quietly.
"Who?"
"My wife."
Phoebe blinked. "Where is she? I didn't know you were married."
Another hit on the joint, then Rick spoke. "I'm not. She's dead."
"Oh," Phoebe deflated. "Well, I feel like an ass now."
"Don't." He lifted up a bottle of whiskey that he'd had lowered to his lap and drank deep. When he lowered it again he offered it to her too and she took it. They passed the whiskey back and forth between them as they sat in the dark together. They didn't say much after that, but Phoebe felt like maybe she was Rick's friend even if he wouldn't say the words.