Let The Ricks Fall Where They May
Written by Kat_Aclysm
Beta Read by Unlvcrjchick
Rated: - T for language
Disclaimers + Copyrights: You're 14 chapters into this and if you think I own Rick and Morty by now, there's something wrong with you. Created by Justin Roiland and Dan Harmon, (c) Starburns Industries (2013-2014), Rick and Morty, LLC (2015 to Present).
NOTE: Alas, this was delayed, but not for lack of wanting to work on it. I probably should have staggered the release of the earlier chapters, but hopefully I can start moving faster with the updates again soon. Enjoy this slightly less hectic installment. Please consider reviewing if you're enjoying so far. :)
It all seemed so perfect
It all seemed like everything was right
It all seemed so perfect
It all seemed so fine
Until it was not
So keep your head down
Keep your hands where I can see them
No I can't let you, no, I can't let you
Keep your head down
Keep your hands where I can see them
No, I can't let you, no, I can't let you leave
This'll all be over soon
- Another Set of Issues – OK Go
Chapter 14 – Utterly Ricked Up
November 26th, 3:26am Local Ship Time, 2001
Unnamed Nebula, Space
'Verdant Harbinger', Dimension Q-316
"What am I supposed to be looking at?"
The question was spoken with a tone of subdued anger. There were three things Dr. Ricktus Sanchez hated more than anything; cold coffee, running out of wine, and being awakened in the middle of the night. He had no coffee, no wine, and now he found himself awake at three in the morning.
When he had gotten the initial alert that something had happened to his captive, he got out of bed with sudden haste, his mind only being able to imagine what kind of sight was waiting for him at the other end.
Now that he was in the room, all he wanted to do was find the source of the disturbance. He stared at the ceiling, but found nothing of interest. A quick look around the room didn't give him any further information; all he saw was the mess of books haphazardly scattered across the floor along with the singular chair, which lay on its side. Everything else in the room was exactly as he had set it up in the first place, completely untouched. The only noteworthy thing was his dimensional-double assistant who was nervously pacing, his attention glued to the small handheld computer he was holding.
"Again," Ricktus's tone was unkind as he spoke, fast becoming impatient. "You woke me up for this? What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"Ah, sir?" Surgeon Rick risked a nervous glance in the direction of his boss and awkwardly bit his lower lip; he knew he was prone to bouts of anger and didn't want to be his next target. "You don't see what I'm seeing?"
"What are you getting at?" Ricktus lowered his head just enough that he could condescendingly glare over the top of his glasses. "I don't see anything."
"Precisely, sir."
Ricktus had to turn away at that point; if he was to keep a professional air, he needed to stay calm and focused. His attention was back on the floor, then on the ceiling again. He knew what he was supposed to be looking at but couldn't work it out. Then it finally dawned on him; the Rick he had captured wasn't alive or dead - he wasn't even there and he had taken his Morty with him.
"He... they escaped?" The doctor mentally berated himself; it seemed so obvious now. He quickly blamed his lack of perception on tiredness and resumed staring at the floor. There was no further evidence he could see other than four small screws in amongst the mess of books. "I'm... I'm actually really impressed. How did he manage it?"
"Checking surveillance footage, sir." Surgeon Rick's reply was suddenly upbeat, now that he knew he wasn't going to be scolded. He tapped the screen of his handheld computer several times as he accessed the required data. "It seems that he made a standing platform out of the reading material you left for him. Then he ripped up the bed console and... he used it as a screwdriver and a prying tool. That's when he got the roof panel off and climbed in. Took his Morty up there, too."
"Impressive... where is he now?" Ricktus followed the seam lines of the ceiling panels with his eyes, but could see no further evidence of escape. "Clever bastard..."
"One can only take a guess, sir." Surgeon Rick followed his gaze upwards and shrugged. "But he won't get far. This sequence of rooms happens to be bookended by two impenetrable bulkheads. That's not an over exaggeration either, they'd survive a direct hit from a nuclear-missile strike. He can move around up there and maybe he can even get into another room below, but without the door codes he's just stuck in this area of the ship. He's trapped like a rat."
"Excellent," Ricktus nodded his head once, seeming pleased with the information. "Do me a favor and get a communicator up there."
"Sir?" Surgeon Rick raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.
"He's me, so I know how he thinks." Ricktus grinned back at him. "If there's anything I've been able to reliably predict with all the Ricks we've dealt with thus far, it's that when something piques their curiosity, they just can't help themselves. So get the ceiling open and get a communicator up to him. At the very least he'll use it if just for the chance to bitch at us."
"Can you give me a communicator, too? I too would like the opportunity to bitch at you." Although it was a statement of playful mockery, he spoke it with the same professional air, not missing a beat.
"You're standing right next to me, off you go." Ricktus paused, narrowing his eyes, his next statement semi-serious. "Or should I be bitching at you for not getting on top of this sooner?"
"Ugh, gimme a break... you know how long I spent with him?" Surgeon Rick huffed in reply. "I'm gonna start demanding overtime, boss. You think either of us wanna be awake right now? Dude, I don't even wanna be here. All I wanted to do was watch 'That Doesn't Fit In There' and get smashed off my face!"
Ricktus hummed in thought, ignoring his complaints entirely. "Why don't you get Fleur up there?" He paused, smirking in amusement. "Because she's more useful than you ever were."
"Wow, boss... you really know how to prey on a guy's insecurities. You're such a jerk." Surgeon Rick almost seemed upset. "Good luck with that one... like I can find one of your fucking bees among the thousands out there. You... you know they all look the same, right?"
"I can tell the difference," Ricktus shook his head as he stepped out of the open doorway. "It's not my problem if you want to take it personally, C-711. Do your job properly next time. You were quite capable of handling this without me." He disappeared down the corridor, leaving the other to himself in the room.
Surgeon Rick watched him go, then resumed glaring at the screen of his computer. "Fuckin' asshole... w-why do I even work here again?"
Meanwhile in the roof above them, Rick was holed up in the darkest part of the maintenance cavity. His escape plan hadn't worked out quite as well as he had hoped; he'd traversed the entire area four times and still hadn't found a way out. They were as trapped up there as they had been down in the room, and now Morty was becoming grouchy because he wanted food. Rick wasn't faring much better either; he was drowsy and bored, and there was nothing to do up there. At least the room below had been more comfortable and there was something to read. Being in the darkness with his thoughts wasn't something the scientist wanted to face.
When Rick heard the loud clattering nearby, he narrowed his eyes and locked his attention on the location of the noise, trying to discern what it was. His query was quickly answered as a singular member of the hive pushed her way through the same roofing panel that Rick himself had loosened to get up there in the first place, light flooding into the dark space around her.
"Fuck..." Rick hissed aloud as he picked up Morty and scooted into the back corner of the area, his back lightly bumping up against the cold steel wall behind him.
There was no point in hiding; the bee-creature had already heard him. Her chitinous, armored claws rattled across the roofing panels as she crawled towards the pair, her antennae excitedly twitching as she zeroed in on Rick's chemical scent. She moved closer and made soft buzzing sounds, her posture low and submissive as she sat on her haunches. She cocked her head to the side, revealing the fact that she was wearing a collar, also exposing the communication device that had been clipped onto it. The worker bee began to groom her scythe claws with her mandibles and curled sticky tongue, seeming completely uninterested in anything else; as far as she was concerned, her job was over. She had done exactly what her master had asked for.
Morty stared at the overgrown insect, forgetting all about his hunger. He recognized what it was and only bad memories came with the association of its presence. When he tried to wriggle out of Rick's arms, he cried in protest as he discovered that he couldn't budge. He wanted to get as far away from it as possible; he didn't want to be there.
"Can you hear me, Rick?" The sound coming out of the communicator was both crackly and poor in clarity. "While I admire your clever attempt to escape, I would really prefer it if you get the hell out of my roof."
Rick held onto Morty firmly and began to pat his back, narrowing his eyes at the instruction he'd just been issued. "Make me."
"Is that a request?" A pause. "Look, I'm tired of playing games. By the sounds of things, you can't stay up there for much longer, so... can we negotiate? Surely you can be reasoned with."
"You want me to bargain with YOU?" Rick bitterly growled out the words. "H-how about just giving me back my portal gun so I can leave?"
"You know I can't let you do that, Rick. Right now you're a scientific anomaly and I want you very much alive, and preferably safe down in the room with us while your health is of concern." Another pause. "Your lab results haven't come back yet, but I want to treat you. You have no idea how important you are. To me, to HQ, to everyone."
"I don't negotiate with assholes." Rick firmly stated. "So you do need me, huh? What do you want? You wanna tell me what's wrong with me?"
"We can discuss everything if you're willing to come down."
Rick gritted his teeth hard. "You're even stupider than I thought you were. I'm not going to take that bait... go fuck yourself!"
"Are you propositioning me? You forget who you're speaking to." The speaker on the other end of the reception had to laugh at that one. "I could throw something up there to gas you with, but... but why waste a perfectly good Morty?"
Rick reacted with a protective growl of protest and kicked his foot out at the insect before him. She immediately reacted with a short, pained squeak and cowered, flattening herself to the ground.
"If you just did what I think you did... you better fucking not have!" The voice on the other end sounded furious. "If you lay another finger on that one, I'll make you regret the day you were born!"
"I already do!" Rick spat the words back in anger, still very much riled up over the threat towards Morty. "Come on, what else have you got? Y-you gotta do better than that!"
The communication device was silent for several moments, but when it made noise again, the speaker on the other end was much calmer this time. "Look, this needs to stop... I don't want to do this anymore. How long do you plan to stay up there? Because no matter what you decide, you're going to lose. Let me run through all possible scenarios and outcomes for you: One - you're going to stay up there until one of you can't do it any longer, in which case you'd lose. Two - I can send the hive after you just like I did the first time, so you'd lose there, too. Three - I could sedate you, but that would be risky, as you are likely still under the effects of the first sedative... so you would lose again. It's much better to surrender now than to subject yourself and your Morty to further unnecessary trauma."
"You want me to just give up? You want me to be quiet and do what I'm told?" Rick snorted in disgust. "You've been watching me for how long? Yet, you still haven't been paying any attention... the only way I'm getting out of here is if you give me back my portal gun. Then I'll gladly leave!"
"I can't do that." A hesitant pause. "I broke it."
"What...?" Rick took Morty with him as he stomped over to the open panel in the roof and crouched down beside the hole so he could yell down at the other Rick. "You did WHAT?"
"Are you deaf? I said I BROKE IT." Ricktus replied with much more volume and firmness in his voice this time as he looked up at him, the faintest hint of a smirk at the edge of his mouth, amused that his captive was getting so worked up; this was exactly what he wanted. "That's actually not a lie either... the device is currently in about six different pieces in the electronics lab. It was so unique that I had to catalog the design. While I was pulling it apart, the battery exploded. Does that make you mad, Rick? Does it? What are you going to do about it?"
"What do you think I'm going to do!?" Rick held Morty firmly in one arm as he jumped down through the hole, landing onto the table below with a loud thud. "I'm gonna kick your ass!"
"Oh, really? Bring it on!" The proud arrogant smirk grew further across his face. "Do you know how many Ricks I take down in a single day?" He narrowed his eyes as if issuing a warning to the challenge of his authority. "I beat you and I can totally do it again. Don't test me."
Rick jumped down off the table and moved towards the bunk so he could deposit Morty onto the mattress, "Stay here, buddy... you don't wanna get in the way of this bullshit." He removed his lab coat and dumped it onto the floor beside him. "You may have a doctorate, but it seems like you still need schooling." He began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
"Rick, bro, don't do this... you're not going to win." Surgeon Rick sighed at him. "This is pointless. I-I wanna go back to sleep!"
"You can leave anytime you want to, C-711," Ricktus told him firmly. "Nobody's keeping you here. You've already proven how incompetent you are."
"Fuck me, boss, Fuck me." Surgeon Rick grumbled as he retreated towards the doorway. "Fine, see if I care... but I want no part of it." He folded his arms across his chest, glowering at the pair. "You're both fuckin' idiots, and don't say I didn't try to stop you. And don't come crying to me for help afterwards!"
Neither of them were paying attention by this point.
Rick balled both hands into fists as he sidestepped the table, his eyes locked in a harsh glare with his opponent as he began to pace around him, his arms up and at the ready, keeping just out of striking distance.
"Oh my god... I can't believe you're actually serious about this!" Ricktus chuckled confidently, thoroughly amused by his captive's behavior. "I'll even let you have the first hit for free. That is, if you thi-"
Rick cut through his smug grin with a sudden sharp punch to the jaw, swiftly striking him twice more while he was still in range. "You want to know how serious I am!? Get me the fuck out of here!"
"Aaaahh, fuck! Damn it!" Ricktus stumbled backwards, cringing in pain. In another moment he was nursing the affected area of his face with a hand. "Motherfucker! I wasn't even ready yet. What's wrong with you?" He stepped away and opened his mouth so he could poke at one of his teeth. "Holy shit, I think you dislodged a molar. Ugh..."
He was distracted and wide open, which gave Rick the opportunity to retrieve one of the remaining books from the table – 'Quantum Mechanics And You'. It had a hardcover backing and was very heavy; more than solid enough for what he needed it for. A surge of anger rushed through him and with sudden force, he swung it and smacked the other Rick upside the head with it, dislodging the glasses from his face in the movement. He wasted no time crushing them underfoot.
"Oh wow, that's just sad. Do you know how many of those I have to spare?" Despite the fact that the other Rick was disappointed to lose a pair of glasses, he did his best not to outwardly show it. "Do you think I'm blind without them? That was such a dirty move... so disappointing."
"You still think I'm kidding?" Rick hurled the book at him for good measure. "Dirty move? I didn't know there were rules!"
Ricktus easily sidestepped the projectile. "I am so glad you said that," the dangerous smirk was back on his face again, and the injury he had sustained a mere moment ago was all but forgotten, "because it makes me feel so much better about doing this." The doctor rushed at him and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders as he brought his knee up to slam him hard between the legs, striking him directly in the most sensitive part of his anatomy.
Rick made a pathetic pained sound, taken completely off-guard by the move. Stars swirled across his vision as he crumpled onto the floor, curling up in a tight ball. His hands were between his legs and he was doubled over in pain; it was so unbearable that it made him heave for a moment, but he managed to hold onto the contents of his stomach.
Surgeon Rick had to avert his gaze, cringing in sympathy for the other after witnessing that one. "Holy shit... really? Just, r-really? Was that necessary? Did you want to neuter him, too?"
"You know," as Ricktus watched the other go down, he began to laugh. "That was awfully quick. One hit and you go down like a sack of shit. I'll be sure to add that to your clinical notes. Do you realize that you've just done my work for me?"
Rick made a short, frustrated sound through the pain; it was the only response he could manage.
"You see, Rick... this was actually the fourth option, and one I didn't mention: me pissing you off so much that you actually came down after me. I'm glad to see how easily it worked." He stood over his captive, the sense of smug arrogance coming over him again now that he knew he'd won. "So predictable, and guess what? You lose."
Rick didn't have a response this time.
"Ugh, don't even bother getting up. You're pathetic." He gave him a harsh nudge with his foot. "You have about twenty hours left, so see that you use the time wisely. You should have taken my assistant's advice the first time around. Give up and go to bed." He headed for the door, adding to his statement. "And just so you know... if it were up to me at any point, I would have let you die. I could have gladly killed you just now. You should be thanking me that I didn't."
"The line, boss." Surgeon Rick snorted in disgust. "You just crossed it."
Ricktus ignored him and stepped over the pathetic lump on the floor, his attention now on the hole in the ceiling. "Come, Fleur. We're leaving."
There were loud, metallic scratching noises as the bee-creature happily bounded across the maintenance cavity, popping her head out of the hole. She sprang out of it and took to the air, her wings beating furiously as she buzzed across the room, casually landing on her master's shoulder. Once there, she began to groom his hair with her long, sticky tongue.
"You need to stop losing, Rick. You have the potential to be quite valuable if you only redirected your anger elsewhere." Ricktus deactivated the air-lock and stepped out into the hallway. "We are not the enemy, and you would do well to remember that. I will not suffer your bad attitude again."
Surgeon Rick simply shook his head, knowing better to stay silent as he followed after his boss.
Rick could only glare at them from the floor as the door closed behind them, the air-lock activating once more. He was in a world of pain, but he didn't know what was worse; being physically assaulted in such a demeaning manner, or the fact that his pride had been heavily wounded by yet another defeat. Either way, he had decided that he really didn't like this particular version of himself; it just reminded him of how much of an asshole he was capable of being and it further cemented the belief that the Ricks of the multiverse were not worth knowing.
His desire to leave had just grown even stronger.
There were no two ways about it - quarantine was boring. Rick had finally given up and decided to take the advice of his captors; spending a few hours to sleep off the pain and the residual effects of the sedative wasn't going to cause any problems. He had never been a deep sleeper to begin with and was woken again by the sound of his door opening. He ignored it. When he picked up the scent of food, he ignored that, too.
Morty was pulling on his hair again, reminding him that he was hungry. Rick stayed down and tolerated it; there was no way he was about to make the kid stop. As far as he was concerned, Morty was allowed to do whatever he wanted to him, so long as it kept him happy.
"Pity you're not big enough to go get it yourself..." Rick grumbled, though there was no negativity in his tone. He reached up to poke Morty in the chest with an index finger, harmlessly pushing the little boy over. "You also still suck at balance. Grow up faster, huh?"
Morty made loud, gleeful nonsense sounds as he collapsed onto the bed. He got to his feet again and resumed pulling on his grandfather's hair, wanting to make a game out of it.
Rick decided to sit up at this point; Morty didn't know his limitations and it was starting to hurt. When he felt the little demanding tugs at the sleeves of his shirt, he finally conceded and moved off the bunk entirely. "Fine, you win."
He looked up, immediately disappointed by what he saw above him. It seemed that the hive had been busy during his time asleep; the roofing panels above were now glued up with the same bioluminescent, green substance that had been used to patch up the hallway. Rick wasn't sure if it was worth another shot at attempting an escape, but a quick look around the room didn't offer any other viable options. It seemed that there was no conceivable way out of the box now; he would just have to wait the time out and leave at the earliest opportunity.
"Phh..." He hadn't even been awake five minutes and he was already bored out of his mind. The table didn't offer much in the way of entertainment either; the books that had been laid out and scattered across the floor were of subjects he knew inside and out. He picked up the tray of food and poked at it with his finger - pancakes, scrambled eggs, and some kind of unidentifiable cereal that had already gone soggy in the milk: obviously breakfast time on the ship. "You want to learn independence, Morty? Here, go knock yourself out." He set the tray down on the ground and moved away to begin tidying up the mess of books nearby, if only for something to keep himself occupied with.
Morty practically launched himself off the bed, his mind only on one thing as he hit the floor. In another moment, he was essentially sitting on top of the plate itself and grabbed entire handfuls to shove into his mouth, making an absolute mess of himself; he didn't care in the slightest.
Rick was amused. He hadn't been particularly hungry due to the earlier incident, but he had to admit that giving up his breakfast for the sight before him was totally worth it. "Wow, and to think all this time I've been feeding you myself." He retrieved the screws from the floor and stuffed them into his pants pocket, figuring that Morty was probably still young enough to be at risk of swallowing them. "You lazy piece of shit."
Morty looked up at him, responding only with a loud burp.
"I couldn't have said it better myself." Rick shook his head as he stacked the remaining books back up onto the table.
It was then that something in the corner of the room had caught his attention - an acoustic guitar was just lying there, propped up against the wall. It was yet another contrived placement perhaps, but it was still interesting enough for him to move over to investigate. Once he had picked it up, he allowed his fingers to idly play across the strings as he attempted to work out how out of tune it was; an untuned guitar was a crime and even if it wasn't his, he would be sure to set it right again. He carried it back over to the bunk so he could adjust the tuning keys until it sounded far more acceptable. He had no real motivation to properly play with it though, and set the instrument back down on the floor afterwards.
He lay back down on the bunk, his attention on the ceiling. He had nothing left to keep his mind distracted; there was nothing he could run from and there was nothing to fight. He was utterly bored, and worse – he was alone with his grandson and his thoughts.
At least one of them was happy.
Ricktus had time to reflect on his actions while he was away on shift. He was usually a diligent-and-focused worker, but he found himself distracted this time around; it wasn't often that one of the Ricks assigned to him to monitor actually managed to survive. He really hadn't meant to lose his composure, but his authority had been challenged and he had taken it as an insult. Like most of the Ricks he knew of and had to deal with, he was proud, egotistical, and prone to allowing anger to overtake his better judgment. He knew he had taken it too far this time and his assistant had made a point of telling him so. He had no idea how to come back from this one.
As he stood at the doorway to his captive's room, he found himself hesitant as his hand hovered over the code panel beside the door. However, regardless of his feelings on the subject, he knew he had to do something; he needed this one alive and on friendly terms. He pushed through his own thoughts and punched in the door code, stepping in through the open doorway afterwards.
What he saw in the room ahead of him was fairly predictable. Morty was sitting on the floor with the box of toys that had been planted in the room; the little boy had pulled them all out and made a mess, and now he was chewing on the ear of a stuffed animal he had found. When he saw the stranger, he made a sharp cry of alarm and got to his feet, making a beeline for the bunk. He used his little arms to haul himself up onto the mattress and he retreated towards the safety of his grandfather, clumsily bumping into his side to seek his protection.
Meanwhile, Rick didn't even acknowledge the intruder; he was sitting cross-legged on the far side of the bunk with his forehead leaning against the glass as he idly stared out the window. He wasn't paying any particular attention to the scenery outside or to anything else for that matter; he was completely lost in thought. He didn't seem to notice when Morty bumped into him.
Ricktus took a singular cautious step forwards and initially stood there, completely silent as his attention was glued to the other male. He knew full-well that his captive could react in any number of ways, though when nothing happened at all, he couldn't help but find the observation concerning - was he giving up?
"It's a pretty decent view out there, isn't it?" He made an attempt at sounding friendly, though even he knew how pathetic it was. He locked his fingers together in his awkwardness and began to twaddle his thumbs together; he'd never been particularly good with meaningful conversations or apologies, but now he found himself stuck in the likelihood of having to do both. "I was hoping that we could talk."
Rick ignored him completely and continued to stare out the window.
Ricktus took three more tentative steps across the room towards the pair, his attention on the mess nearby his feet, momentarily eyeing off the tray of food which still lay there. "You didn't eat that. Is food a problem for you, or did I receive bad intel on your preferences?"
Rick didn't reply.
"Fine, that's not why I'm here. I'll just get to the point... my assistant says you wanted to speak with me, so here I am." Ricktus tried again as he pulled up a chair to sit down. "It seems that without thinking, I may have gone too far. I was actually hoping to get you onside before you have clearance to leave."
Rick made a loud, disgusted snort at the suggestion.
"You know, Rick..." Ricktus sighed in frustration. "Usually a conversation involves both sides, you know, actually talking. I am about to give you the opportunity to ask whatever you want within reason, and actually get a useful answer this time I might add, and all you're going to do is sit there and make noises at me? You're going to be out of here before you know it. Stop moping."
"I'm not moping, you are." Rick grumbled back at him.
"Look, I understand where you're coming from," Ricktus continued, figuring that getting any kind of response at this point was a good start. "You didn't sign up for any of this. Fair point, what I did was wrong. I admit that I acted irrationally, especially earlier this morning. I haven't exactly been fair either. Considering everything that has been taken away from you, I suppose it was only predictable that you would fight for what little freedom you had. But don't think I'm about to apologize for keeping you here, because the end always justifies the means."
"I've already heard that line..." Rick turned his head just enough so he could glare at him from his peripheral vision. "I-is that what you keep telling yourselves? Sounds like a pretty shitty excuse to do whatever the fuck you want."
"It's the truth," Ricktus huffed angrily, finding himself already annoyed by his dimensional counterpart's attitude. "Had we not interfered when we did, you'd be dead by now and your Morty would likely have been reassigned to another Rick. So, again, you're welcome."
Rick flattened his brow, looking as unimpressed as he could muster. "You kicked me in the balls."
"Why yes, yes I did..." There was a mild twinge of regret in the reply. "Does it still hurt? How are you now?"
"Why don't you just knock me out again and find out for yourself?" Rick's tone was suddenly harsh and acidic. "Was that how you planned to get me onside? How in the FUCK did you ever think that would work, ever? What kind of crazy backwards universe do you even come from?!"
Ricktus sighed in exasperation; he knew that it was well-deserved criticism, but he still didn't much like being on the receiving end. "Yes, I know. It wasn't intentional, but you dragged it out of me. For that much at least, I apologize. I knew it was the point that I had probably taken things too far."
"Yeah, yeah... no fucking kidding, huh?" Rick growled at him. "Dipshit. Go fuck yourself!"
"I suppose that's deserved, but..." He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Look, like all things, this situation is only temporary. I'll send you back on your way when we're done and you'll have forgotten all about this within the week."
"Phh... do you know how much can change within the space of a week? I never asked for any of this." Rick became strangely quiet. "None of this shit was supposed to happen."
"We often find ourselves in situations we didn't plan for, but all we can do is move through them accordingly. You've done a pretty good job of that so far." Ricktus pulled a small palmtop computer out of his top pocket and began typing on the screen, adding to the data he had already collected on his current subject. "I understand that you are still processing your losses. There is a lot to work through and I am sure that pulling you out here has only added to your mental anguish. But rest assured, you're safer here than you could be anywhere else. What you need right now is to give yourself some time to heal."
"Phh, time? What a positively cliché statement. It doesn't even matter, the universe itself is pointless anyway." The words came out bitterly. "So why are you really here? I'm going to sit here and wait out the time like you asked me to. I-isn't that what you wanted? You've already won, so what else could you possibly want from me? Did you come here just to gloat about it?" Rick made a soft growl, baring his teeth at the other as he spoke again. "Fuck you!"
"I don't always get what I want," Ricktus firmly told him, "and in this case, I don't believe I've won. I'm actually concerned for your mental state right now. You were pacing and agitated while we were on shift, and I know that because I've already checked the surveillance."
"Of course you did." Rick narrowed his eyes. "You creepy stalker. You're fucking disgusting!"
"Are you done?" Despite the question, Ricktus was prepared to sit there and take it; if it helped Rick to work out some of his pent-up anger, then it was probably worth the abuse.
"I don't know," Rick snorted, returning his attention back outside the window. "I'll let you know depending on how I feel... are you done being an asshole?"
"For the time being, yes." The doctor sat up properly in the chair, suddenly curious. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I don't want to be here?" Rick shifted in his posture, properly turning around to face the other Rick now. Despite his foul mood, his curiosity had risen just enough that he was interested in probing the other with questions. "Neither of you have given me a straightforward answer yet. What the hell do you think is supposed to be wrong with me?"
Ricktus couldn't help but feel pleased; it seemed he might have a chance at turning this one around after all. "Of course," he set the small handheld computer down onto the table and began typing much faster with both hands. "I can bring up any data you need. Where do you want me to begin?"
"I don't know... anywhere?" Rick shrugged. "Because I feel just fine. I was half-tempted to call bullshit on it, but you keep asking, so..."
Ricktus began to read aloud from the file once he had accessed it. "Clinical notes for Rick Sanchez B-526: Plasma-radiation poisoning - you should be dead. Attempted suicide - if your gun had any charge in it, you would be dead. Moderate hypothermia - while I'm glad you recovered, when something like that is complicated with plasma-radiation poisoning... you should be dead."
"What the hell...?" The scientist didn't like what he was hearing, but only one of those things had stuck in his mind.
"Lesser complaints that need follow-up," the other continued reading, "28 sutures with possible risk of infection. Underweight – surely I don't need to explain this one? By all that is known to medical science, you should be dead." He finally looked up from the datapad, seeming impressed. "You're a scientific anomaly, Rick. I simply can't work out how you've managed to survive this long, and the first of your biopsies came back completely clear. You appear to be completely asymptomatic. While I'm sure that's great news to you, it doesn't make any sense. I'm beginning to wonder if you're invincible, or if you're simply too stubborn to die."
"Wait, wait, back the fuck up!" Rick snapped at him. "Plasma-radiation poisoning? What makes you think I have that?"
"You're kidding, right?" Ricktus was staring incredulously at him now, trying to read his expression for any indication of a joke. When he did not find it, he seemed even more confused. "Is this something your mind has blocked out? I mean, I understand that memory is painful and it's a subject that I wanted to approach respectfully, bu-"
"I'm not a precious snowflake." Rick huffed at the notion, insulted. "Y-you don't need to tiptoe around me like I'm going to break. Now shut up and get back to it. Is that what this is all about? Is that why you dragged me all the way out here?"
"Well, not entirely, but..." The doctor began to fidget with the small electronic device, seeming a little annoyed that he even had to bother explaining it. "You were exposed to over 12,000 lethal measures of plasma radiation. That was further complicated by shrapnel damage with no antiseptic, so you were risking blood poisoning as well. Approximately 48 hours after exposure, you started exhibiting all the classic hallmark symptoms that one would expect to see from a lethal dose. Your Morty went down faster than you did, which is to be expected because his biomass is smaller, but," he shrugged, "I honestly thought we were going to lose you, so I had to do something earlier than I had originally anticipated. The non-interference code has been lapsing for some time and there was no harm in it, so..."
"So you fucked with me." Rick finished the rest of the statement as he narrowed his eyes in disapproval. "You were the one who left that stuff under my desk, weren't you? What the hell did you do to me?"
"Nothing bad, I assure you." Ricktus scowled back at him. "Do you realize how much of an ungrateful shit you sound like right now? I knew it would fuck with your mind, but your Morty would have been so much worse off without that care package. And just think, where would you have been without it? The alternative would have been so much worse, Rick. Are you beginning to understand yet?"
"Is that how you're going to try and spin it?" Rick gritted his teeth, feeling his anger rising. "What did you do to me?!"
Ricktus sighed at him; as much as he wanted to stand his ground, he knew that if one of them lost it at this point, the conversation would likely devolve into another fight. Instead, he reached into the second pocket of his coat and pulled out a glass ampule containing a luminous-pink, syrupy solution and held it up to the light so he could show it off. "It's an injectable curative of my own invention. I'm not going to tell you what's in it because it's a trade secret, but it contains, uh... you'd find it boring. But it's the whole reason that HQ wanted me in the first place, and all I did was use it on you while you were sleeping. I did the same thing to your Morty. You were both so sick that neither of you even noticed I was there."
"You used that crap on my grandson without telling me!?" Rick was practically yelling at him now.
"Oh, would you relax? Look at him... he's fine." Ricktus dropped the glass bulb onto the table and folded his arms across his chest, annoyed. "Don't expect me to apologize for that either, I saved your lives. And Rick, I have to say, for somebody who has plasma-radiation poisoning, you are carrying yourself exceedingly well. Either that or my serum concoction is good shit. That's part of what makes me so great."
"Ugh... I'm gonna stop you there, because you're an idiot." Rick moved off the bed, taking a moment to stretch once he was on his feet. "First of all, I wasn't sick because of that. We got a stupidly simple, Earth stomach bug because somebody likes to put everything in his mouth." He shot Morty a momentary grumpy glare. "Besides, it was gone again within 24 hours. It was probably just... regular old norovirus, o-or something like that. Secondly... What? No! What makes you think that the Galactic Federation destroys planets with plasma radiation?"
"They... they don't?" Ricktus was watching him intently now, paying very close attention to what he was saying.
"There is radiation involved, but it's only heat-based, and the reason the surface of Earth turned to glass was because of the abundance of silicon in the planet's crust. That same process would actually happen to most planets... t-that aren't gaseous, at least." Rick was getting worked up just thinking about it and began pacing back and forth across the room. "Holy shit, don't you know ANYTHING about this? The Galactic Federation are a bunch of intergalactic conquerors among other things. They either force planets into submitting to their stupid regime or they wipe out the natural biosphere. Then they just... move back in and terraform the planet for their own kind. That's how their numbers are able to grow so big, they're basically space-faring locusts. How do you not know about this? I thought it was common knowledge."
"Are you sure?"
"I've seen them destroy a planet... twice now. I know how the rest works." Rick stopped in front of the closed door then turned around, pacing back in the other direction. "Ask yourself this instead – how in the everloving FUCK could nuking a planet with more than 10,000 years of unlivable radiation possibly benefit them? I mean they're stupid, but they're not THAT stupid. This isn't fucking Chernobyl!"
"Are... are you positively certain about this?" Ricktus began fumbling with his handheld computer device, mentally kicking himself when he realized that he had forgotten to record the conversation. "Would you be able to confirm it as fact?"
Rick stared hard at him and stopped dead in his tracks, positively wild-eyed and livid at what he was hearing. "Are you fucking serious!?" He snapped. "You STILL need proof after all this time!? Why don't you go back to my home planet and see the remaining evidence for yourself!?"
"Yeah, yeah, it was a stupid question..." Ricktus muttered, shaking his head. "Look, in all seriousness, this is seriously important information. Would you be interested in documenting everything you know? This was one of the things the Council wanted you alive for." He stood up, and his expression was dead serious as he looked back at the other. "If you give them your intel, it would be of great benefit to all of us. You might not be able to do anything about your own world or bring it back, but the knowledge you provide could go on to benefit Ricks in countless other dimensions."
"Yeah, yeah, sure... whatever." Rick dismissively waved a hand at him, not seeming to care. "What do I get for doing that?"
"Something could be arranged, I'm very much certain of that." Ricktus reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, grinning at him, seeming very enthusiastic all of a sudden. "You have no idea how valuable you are, but I'm sure you would receive very noticeable commendations and massive perks among the members of the Citadel. Both myself and my assistant are only silvers. Shit like that would bump you straight up to gold."
Rick smacked his hand away and narrowed his eyes, becoming suspicious all over again. "Citadel? Council? HQ? What the fuck are you talking about? Who do you work for?"
"Oh, I could tell you, but wouldn't it be so much more interesting to just show you?" Ricktus took two steps back from him, heading for the door. "If you live long enough to be released, you'll get to see everything. I'll make sure of it."
Rick growled at him. "Do you have any idea how contradictory you're being? Don't think I've forgotten what you said earlier. You said you wanted to kill me. Now I'm important? Make up your damn mind!"
"Ah, well..." Ricktus awkwardly scratched the side of his head. "At one point, yes, I did want to kill you. But I've since decided otherwise. How fortuitous for your sake, hmm?"
"Fuck you." It was more of a half-assed response this time.
"Deserved, but don't worry about it." The doctor clapped his hands together suddenly. "Well, I know you've enjoyed talking to me because I'm just that great, but your new information has just given me about a dozen more hours of paperwork. On top of that, there's not a minute that goes by where something doesn't need to be done around this stupid piece of shit. I'll release you when your time is up, or after I've sourced another battery for your portal gun. Whichever comes first."
"So that part wasn't a lie, huh?" Rick kicked one of Morty's toys aside as he headed back towards the bunk. "I spent such a long time on the design... what a waste of effort. I should have expected it, I suppose... everything else is so ridiculously fucked up, why not that, too?" He flopped down face-first onto the bed, suddenly seeming as deflated as he'd been the moment the other Rick had walked into the room in the first place.
"Relax, Rick. You'll get it back in good time." Ricktus raised an eyebrow at his sudden change of mood. "I suppose now would be a good time to mention that I was the one who likely caused the damage to your battery in the first place. When you left the parts unguarded, I took the opportunity to rig the battery up so I could send communications to the display module. You really need to keep a better eye on your shit... you practically left me an open invitation to tamper with your portal gun."
"You're an asshole..." Rick muttered into the pillow.
"Yes, I know, thanks for noticing. I get that a lot." Ricktus grinned back at him, seeming pleased with the statement. "But if it's going to teach you to never leave it behind again, then so be it."
"Hrmph..." Rick wanted to complain about it, but he'd already said far too much on the subject and didn't want to repeat himself. "When you're ready to give it back, there's people back in my dimension who need to know I'm still alive."
Ricktus casually punched in the door code, not bothering to look up this time. "Must be nice to have friends who care about you."
"I wouldn't go that far..." Rick lifted his head up again as he heard the air-lock deactivate, watching the other step through the doorway. "Why are you doing all of this? I'm not sure I understand your intentions. It's... i-it's like you're trying to be a dick and not at the same time. What's your endgame?"
"Contrary to popular belief... not all Ricks are assholes to each other." The doctor smirked back at him. He knew how this Rick's mind worked, and now he fully intended to prey on his curiosity. "If you're not as sick as I thought you were, then you'll get to see what I mean in good time." He walked off down the corridor, seeming particularly pleased with himself.
Rick was left to stare at the door as it closed again, wondering what that last statement could have possibly meant. He quickly concluded that he had no idea.
