Let The Ricks Fall Where They May
Written by Kat_Aclysm
Beta Read by Unlvcrjchick
Rated: - T for language
Disclaimers + Copyrights: Rick and Morty is a cartoon by Adult Swim. There's really not much more to say. Not my IP, this is fanfiction.
NOTE: Quite a few artistic liberties were taken with this chapter. Because this story exists about 12/13 years behind the show/comic book/game canon, the Citadel of Ricks location is going to be smaller and under construction with intention for future extensions. Also, there's obviously more places that we didn't get to see.
This is gospel for the fallen ones
Locked away in permanent slumber
Assembling their philosophies
From pieces of broken memories
Their gnashing teeth and criminal tongues
Conspire against the odds
But they haven't seen the best of us yet
- This Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco
Chapter 17 – The Ricktatorship
November 27th, 11:05am Citadel Time, 2001
Cross-Temporal Rift Nebula, Location Classified
Citadel Of Ricks, Dimension Number Classified
Just when Rick thought things were finally getting better, the reality of his situation decided to prove him otherwise yet again. After losing a heated argument over the violation of his personal freedoms, Morty had been taken from him so he could be pinned down and shackled. After that, he was shoved through the open portal hub as if he were nothing more than merchandise or cattle. Now he was being escorted down a length of a dark tunnel like a common criminal, and worse, the wrist cuffs and collar actually made him look the part. He wanted to raise a riot about the whole thing but didn't want to set Morty off again. Instead, he opted to glare down at his feet as he trailed behind his captors, just wanting the whole thing to be over and done with.
Morty wasn't faring much better; although he decided not to pitch a fit after being woken up this time, he certainly wasn't going to keep quiet about his feelings on the matter. He clutched at the tails of his grandfather's lab coat with both hands as he did his best to keep up and babbled upset nonsense that almost resembled the word 'no' over and over again. He didn't know where he was or where he was going; he only knew he didn't want to be there either.
His grandson's behavior wasn't pleasant to witness and Rick couldn't pick him up even if he wanted to; his wrists were currently uncomfortably pressed against each together in the cuffs. "You're listening to this, right?" He growled as he motioned down towards the little boy with both hands. "Even Morty wants you to stop. I-I agree with him, get me outta this crap already!"
"Oh, would you cut that out? I'll turn your cuffs off soon, so stop complaining." Ricktus shook his head at the scientist. "Besides, your collar isn't even on, you should be thankful for that. You can't blame me for this one either; the order to keep you under control came from straight from the top. It's partly for show, but mostly to put everyone at ease. An unregistered Rick of your breed and caliber is considered... dangerous."
"Oh yeah?" Rick narrowed his eyes; maybe that was actually true. "Why?"
"Because you're currently the kind of Rick they all fear the most," Ricktus turned his head back towards the other, a serious expression set on his face. "You've got nothing left to lose."
"I see..." Rick returned his attention to the ground, still very much bitter over his current predicament.
"Stop taking this so personally. It's not about you anymore." Ricktus firmly told him. "Things are about to get better for everyone. For you, me, the idiot beside m-"
"Screw you, sir." Surgeon Rick stated, feeling incredibly conflicted himself; he really hadn't wanted to restrain their captive, but orders were orders and now he was concerned that he had fractured a potential alliance before it had even begun. It was utterly stupid and he knew he shouldn't care at all, but it was still there and he couldn't put it out of his mind.
"Oh, don't you start too, C-711." Ricktus warned him. "Now is not a good time for your insubordination." He placed a hand on his forehead and released a sharp, frustrated sigh, returning his attention back towards Rick. "Come on, at least show some degree of interest once we step into the main concourse... this is your future. Don't you want to put the remaining puzzle pieces together? You don't know it yet, but you'll soon grow to like this place. It's going to be your new base of operations, after all. Hell, it might even become your home away from home."
Rick made a soft noise to express his distaste of the suggestion. "I don't have a home, dumbass. Why would I want another one?" He raised his head and although his expression was still quite sour, he was vaguely curious as his gaze drifted up the remaining length of the tunnel; they were finally approaching the end.
Two rather disgruntled-looking Ricks dressed in tidy, white uniforms were standing guard at the far door and holding long-barreled rifles almost as big as they were. When they saw the small group approaching, the one on the left nudged his companion and the both of them cocked their weapons into the fire-ready position, taking aim at them.
"Identify yourselves," the one on the left barked, "or we'll kill you where you stand!"
"Oh, please... you know who I am. I'm Rick Q-316, or whatever, who cares. I'm not really one for titles, but at least look for the badge next time, huh?" Ricktus made a point of tapping his silver pin with an index finger. "I'm responsible for this lot. I am also carrying rather important business to the Council today. You wouldn't want to cause delays, would you?"
The guard on the right's expression was highly suspicious as he looked past the doctor, his attention falling on Surgeon Rick, and then Rick. His gaze lingered on Morty for a moment longer before returning it back to the leader of the group. "Do you have a permit for the unregistered Rick?"
"Do you think I'm an idiot? I wouldn't be here if I didn't." Ricktus pulled two documents from his top coat pocket and flashed them to the guard as he gave him his best unimpressed scowl. "Come on, you're wasting time and I have an appointment to keep. Do you really want to risk pissing off the big boss?"
The guard swore a string of unintelligible curse words and pushed the door open.
"Come," Ricktus raised his right hand to the group behind him and motioned forwards. "Though I advise sticking close by on this occasion. Just judging by the welcome at the door, all six council members are probably already here along with the entire assembly." He stuffed the papers back into his coat pocket. "I guess it's only natural that they've upped their security."
"Yeah," Surgeon Rick mumbled, "because protecting your organization by collecting everyone in one place is always a good idea..."
"Shut up, C-711. I don't see you coming up with any better ideas." Ricktus grunted in reply as he led the way into the wide open space beyond the door. "How are we doing for time?"
Surgeon Rick took out his handheld computer and tapped the screen. "Local timezone clock says 11:07 am. Now would be a great opportunity to rustle up some grub if that's what you're planning, sir."
Rick flattened his brow as low as it would go as he was led on by his captors. His attention was immediately drawn to the surrounding area and he was met with a towering, glass-domed ceiling and a multi-leveled open area that reminded him of the inside of a shopping mall. Almost everything about the place was sterile and unnatural except for the trees placed in large planters; even the gravity and the air quality itself was fake, but at least it was much cleaner and easier to breathe than it had been back on the ship.
His next observation was the giant, golden Rick statue mounted on a pylon in the middle of the concourse; it was simply too big and obnoxious to miss.
"Wow... how narcissistic..."
While the several nearby shop-fronts were intriguing enough all on their own, the scientist found himself staring at two other Ricks nearby, who were putting their all into arguing back and forth at each other. Not far away from them was another group of four Ricks in business suits, all huddled together and obviously involved in some kind of secretive discussion. More Ricks moved through the area around them, all of them looking busy and like they had places to be.
"I guess I should have known..." Rick snorted. "Everyone is me. They're all me. But why?" He paused and raised his eyebrows as he sniffed the air. "And why do I smell churros?"
"Ah... of course. This, my friend, is the Citadel of Ricks, or just the Citadel depending on how lazy you are." Ricktus proudly announced as he raised both hands out to the surrounding area. "This is our headquarters and a sanctuary to the displaced and downtrodden Ricks of the multiverse. It also happens to be the secret meeting place for the transdimensional Council of Ricks."
"You're no friend of mine." Rick growled bitterly. "Council of... o-of Ricks?"
"Yes. Did I stutter? No wait, that was you." Ricktus answered, ignoring his tone. "The Council of Ricks is a governing body that directs and protects all who come here. If you're ever in trouble or need assistance, then you can seek out their help. You have been pulled from the depths of mediocrity because you are 'a Rick of interest'."
"Oh boy, here we go..." Surgeon Rick grumbled.
"No longer will you drift through the depths of space without meaning or purpose," Ricktus continued, his tone still arrogant, "we are going to give you a second chance at life and the opportunity to contribute to something much bigger than you could ever hope to be on your own."
"...and there's the bit." Surgeon Rick folded his arms across his chest.
"You know," Rick told him, "yours was better."
"While you may have lost everything, you'll gain it all back and more. Ricks often stumble across the multiverse for meaning in an otherwise pointless and hollow existence but they find it here." Ricktus was practically beaming with pride now. "The Council assigns them a new purpose according to their strengths and everyone is better off for it. This is our calling, Rick... this is what we were meant to do."
Rick scowled, not finding any reason to agree with him. Though he had said it with such firm conviction that he supposed he must have truly believed his own words.
Ricktus turned back to face the other two. "You're hungry, hmm? That is a good sign. We have time to kill and some paperwork to fill out. At some point I want both of you to go and make yourselves a bit more presentable. Go comb your hair or something, I don't know."
"You want me to iron my lab coat, too!?" Rick hissed the words out. "Maybe that's a little hard because, oh, I don't know... I-I'm still wearing these damn hand cuffs!"
"Stop taking this so personally, B-526..." Ricktus grumbled. "I'm sick of repeating myself."
Rick gritted his teeth and snarled. "Fuck what you think. In fact, fuck you, period! I think I'm gonna go for the untidy, hard-bitten, criminal-scum look because I kinda have a theme going on already, y-you know?" He raised both cuffed hands as if to demonstrate.
"You douchebags OK with going to Ricks?" Surgeon Rick suddenly cut across the conversation in the attempt to steer it in a less-confrontational direction. "They'll cook up pretty much anything you want no matter what time of day it is. Not really sure how they're gonna take the Morty being there, but... eh, whatever."
"Ricks is fine." Ricktus's reply was indifferent. "And who gives a shit what they think of B-526's Morty? He has as much right to be here as anyone else."
Rick raised an eyebrow, finding the words both intriguing and a little puzzling; he couldn't understand why the other would feel so strongly about it. He said nothing, however, and kept following; shutting up meant that he wouldn't have to listen to him as much.
After arriving at the diner, the group was seated at a table by the shop-front window and Ricktus stood over his captive to disable his wrist cuffs. "There you go, you're free again, at least for now." His voice was almost sympathetic. "Never let it be said that I go back on my word."
Rick took the opportunity to give him a harsh shove while he was still in close proximity, wanting to express the fact he was still sour over how he was being handled. "Get away from me! I-I'm doing what you wanted, so get off my back already!"
Ricktus simply moved back and allowed him the space; if it helped him work out some of his frustration and calmed him down again, then it was probably worth it.
Probably.
"Hey douchebags, use your indoor voices." Surgeon Rick spoke up, sounding annoyed that he even had to bother mentioning it. "The other patrons don't wanna listen to your bullshit and neither do I."
"I have a much better idea, C-711. Why don't you shut up and make yourself useful?" Ricktus took out his wallet and tossed a keycard across the table towards him. "Go order something. We can write this one off as a business expense."
"Well, uh..." Surgeon Rick picked the card up and stared at it, not really knowing what to make of the gesture. "Since when do you pay for anyone else?" He looked back at his boss, then across to the captive Rick. "What the hell do you losers even want, anyway? I can't read your minds."
"Don't really care," Rick growled as he reached down to scoop Morty up in his arms. "But whatever you order, get two of it. Otherwise I'm not going to get any."
Surgeon Rick had to chuckle at the statement. "Yeah, I hear you there, bro. Gotta feed the scavengers, am I right?" He moved off towards the counter.
"So," Ricktus sat down in one of the nearby chairs at the table and watched his captive attentively, wanting to observe his reaction. "What do you think so far?"
"To be honest, the whole setup feels completely unnecessary." Rick admitted as he placed Morty in his lap and idly poked at his wrist cuffs, his mind already working out how to get them off. "I mean, I get that you're all trying to escape from shit, hell... i-if I had known the Galactic Federation was coming for me in full-force like they did, I would have gotten my family out a lot sooner and just bailed on my dimension..." He lowered his head and fixed his gaze on Morty; as much as he didn't want to think about it, he saw no reason to lie about what he would have done differently. "There's nothing wrong with running, but everyone's solution is to just... do nothing and hide out in some secret clubhouse? What's stopping the shit in this dimension from hunting you down here?"
Ricktus grinned at what he was hearing, pleased that Rick's mind was no longer as fixated in the insult of being restrained. "Oh, we're quite safe here, let me assure you. This dimension was specifically created by a Rick for Ricks, and no other life exists in it apart from us. It's also not affected by the sway of a regular dimension; that is, you're not going to spawn another one simply by deciding whether you wanted toast or bagels with your breakfast." He chuckled in amusement. "To think that a Rick exists solely because of such a decision... how mundane."
"Seems like a lot of effort just to hide, no?" Rick raised his right arm and began to prod the locking mechanism on his cuff with an index finger. "Cowering away in a dimension of your own design isn't gonna solve anything. The crap that's trying to kill you isn't going away just because you're hiding somewhere else... e-even I'm planning to get back out there and exact revenge once all this shit is done with."
"I'm glad to hear it, because that's exactly what the Council wants you to do." Ricktus nodded back at him. "And on that note, we're not hiding out here and doing nothing. Sure, we've been beaten. We're licking our wounds, but... we're regrouping. We're going to turn the tide on this mass-Rickxtinction event and you're going to help us lead the way."
"Wait, what?" Rick peered around his wrist and glared at the other. "I said you could pick my brains for intel, but you're starting to make this sound an awful lot like responsibility. Lead the way to what? I'll make this simple for you - I already have too much to deal with," he gently tapped Morty on the head, "and I don't DO leadership. I-I... prefer doing my own thing. I do what I want and fuck everyone else."
"Didn't you already agree to it?" Ricktus leaned back in the chair and stared at his captive, finding his attitude quite concerning to listen to. "The Council has been profiling the countless Ricks of the multiverse for a very specific type and they stumbled upon you. They've been looking for you for a long time."
"Well, then..." Rick snorted. "They're going to be awfully disappointed, aren't they?"
"Rick, please..." Ricktus sighed. "We're being murdered all across the multiverse. Ricks are dying out there and we... we need to do something. We need help, specifically yours." He gave the other a stern expression. "Doesn't it bother you? Not even slightly?"
"No." Rick folded his arms. "Should it? Things die all the time, there's no sense in worrying about it. Who cares?"
Ricktus sank in his chair enough to make his discontentment known. "Well... shit." He took out his small handheld computer and occupied himself with it. "So much for that."
"So this establishment has been around for 'a long time', huh?" Rick turned his attention towards one of the nearby tables which contained two other Ricks chatting over coffee. "Why am I only just learning about it now?"
Before the doctor could answer, his assistant slammed a table number stand down in front of him. "Perfect timing as always..."
"What's up, fuckers?!" Surgeon Rick happily cheered as he sat down in the chair next to his boss. "I hope you're happy. I just ordered enough food to make you all sick."
"Oh, yeah?" Ricktus looked up from his datapad, seeming vaguely interested. "What kind of food?"
"The kind you eat. Duh." Surgeon Rick quipped. He was silent for a moment as he made note of his boss's posture and made a short, frustrated sigh. "Oh great, don't tell me you're in a shitty mood again."
"Hey, C-711... do you want to try and talk some sense into this Rick? I've tried explaining the point of the Citadel and the Council and his intended place in it, but he's... leaning towards non-compliance." Ricktus returned his attention back to his small handheld computer. "They're not going to like this outcome. I guess we should have expected it..." He mumbled several curse words under his breath as he became uneasy. "...has to make everything so damn difficult..."
"Hey, you know what? Let him." Surgeon Rick shrugged. "Fuckin' let him. I kinda thought the whole thing was bullshit at first. So did you, a-and look where we are now." He turned his gaze across the table towards Rick. "Some Ricks take longer to convince than others, and that's totally your right. But at least hear them out before you decide you don't wanna do it, yeah? Get all the facts first, bro."
"Hmm..." Rick couldn't see a reason to argue. "I just... always saw myself as pretty informed. I like to think that I know what's going on, right? So why didn't I know about this place until now?"
"Hey, don't feel too bad about it." Surgeon Rick grinned. "Infinity is a pretty damn big number. Takes time to get all you fuckers on the same page. Besides, the Council picked us off first because we're fucking hopeless and easily persuaded. Like, really... we're low-tier trash Ricks that nobody cares about and it's surprising that we even fall on the curve at all."
"I really wish you wouldn't put it like that..." Ricktus angrily muttered.
"You gotta face the reality of it, boss." Surgeon Rick smirked, seeming way too happy to talk about it. "We suck and our only claim to usefulness is that we're gonna enable Ricks like B-526 to kick ass and blow shit up. We're only auxiliary cogs in a much larger machine, after all."
"A machine doesn't function unless all the parts are working, so I could argue otherwise." Rick huffed at him and was silent afterwards; he wasn't even really certain why he had just said that.
"Wait, what?" Surgeon Rick wasn't going to let it pass and gave Rick a toothy grin. "The hell was that, bro? Have you decided to stop hating us?" He reached into the top pocket of his scrubs and pulled out a Gameboy to start playing with. "I'm glad to hear it because your variables make shit interesting, but I don't need your pity."
Rick leaned back in the chair and sat quietly to process the conversation. When the food arrived, he ate in silence; while waffles weren't his first preference, he certainly wasn't going to turn down a free meal. He soon found himself in the balancing act of feeding Morty with the spoon in his left hand and himself with the right, though his mind was already thinking ahead and trying to guess what was coming next. He supposed he would just have to be patient and wait to find out.
"How are we doing for time?" Ricktus suddenly blurted the words out. He pushed away his own plate and began to fidget with his datapad, seeming nervous and on-edge. "I mean we're here and on time, but... I don't want to turn up late for the assembly."
"Dude, you're staring at your computer. Answer your own damn question." Surgeon Rick looked up at him. "And chill out, huh? You barely touched your food and it was good shit. What's wrong? What the hell are you so worried about?"
"I-I've never done this before," Ricktus admitted. "I mean, sure... we always send our findings and reports straight to the Council, but we didn't have to do anything for the last Rick we got here. They just took him and that was the end of it. This time they're making us stand in front of the entire congregation to present the live retrieval and I don't want to do it. However, it's necessary if we want to get paid."
Rick gave him a dirty look.
"Phh, is that all you're worried about?" Surgeon Rick had to smother a laugh as he went back to playing with his handheld game console. "Just read that stupid thing you wrote. Stand up there, act out that proud, confident bullshit you do to everyone and then let them decide what to do. Simple."
"Do you want to do it?" The doctor offered, his tone hopeful.
"Because I'm not as crazy as you," his assistant teased, "no."
"D-damn..." Ricktus lowered his head again and resumed fidgeting with his computer.
"In what universe did you think that would work, boss?" Surgeon Rick chuckled back at him. "Seriously, you'll be fine. You got this."
"How can you be so calm? You have to get up there, too." Ricktus shook his head in disbelief. "The entire Council is going to be looking down and silently judging us while we look like a couple of fools. I-I can't do this..."
"I got less riding on it than you do," Surgeon Rick told him. "Plus, I don't care. Got so much more important things to worry about, like making all these lines in Tetris. Shit's hard, yo."
"Hey, uh," Rick moved the little boy off his lap and set him in the chair beside him. "Can one of you losers watch Morty for a sec?"
Surgeon Rick looked up from his Gameboy. "You alright, bro?"
"Uh-huh. I just..." Rick moved to his feet and pointed towards the restroom door. "I'll be back." He slipped away without waiting for a reply.
"Weird," the doctor's eyes tracked the other as he watched him leave. "Should we follow that up?"
"Eh, just leave him be. He's got nowhere to run." Surgeon Rick shrugged. "Maybe he just stepped out to take a break from us? Or, you know... needing to use the facilities was legit. Either way, if you disturb him now, you're gonna destroy what little chance you have left of ever earning his respect."
"And why would I want to do that?" Ricktus's tone was suddenly cold. "You know as well as I do that Ricks are self-serving, egotistical assholes. If you had been around to listen to what he was saying earlier, then you would have learned that he's even worse than most of them. As soon as this mess is over, your paths are most likely never going to cross again. Why does it even matter?"
"I dunno, boss. You're always rambling on about needing to fix shit around your ship. Why not that guy?" Surgeon Rick hissed suddenly and mashed the buttons on his handheld game. "Aw, shit!" He set it down onto the table, seeming incredibly disappointed with himself. "Lost again... I'm blaming that one on you for distracting me, seriously."
"I don't think I want him around," Ricktus snorted in disgust. "His personality does not mesh well with mine."
"What's wrong with that?" Surgeon Rick was smug now. "Finally met your match, huh? Looks like you've found somebody who's as big of a dick as you are."
The doctor made his disapproval known with a warning growl and he pulled out the set of documents that he had shown to the guards earlier. "Do me a real solid and shut your damn mouth. You can finish this paperwork while I revise the speech I wrote..." He angrily threw them down in front of his colleague.
"For the last time, you'll do fine." Surgeon Rick took out a pen to begin working. "It's totally cool with me if you need to spend more time freaking out, but just let me know when you're done. You're getting super annoying, dude."
Meanwhile, Morty had noticed Rick's disappearance. He raised his head as he timidly peered across the table in the direction of the two spiky-haired figures that both did and did not resemble his favorite person. While they sounded genuine and were certainly grumpy enough to play the part, something about them was still off. His first sound was a small, uncertain whimper as he looked around the immediate area, but when he couldn't see his grandfather, he made his protests louder, feeling insecure without him.
"Uh... you OK over there?" Surgeon Rick raised his head and locked his attention straight on Morty. "You seem upset about something."
"You idiot," Ricktus hissed at him. "You're talking to a baby. Well, developmentally, he's a toddler, but... he's displaying classic stranger anxiety. His target of attachment is not present and it will end once he returns." He glanced back in the direction of the restroom door, bristling with irritation. "What's taking him so long?"
"Hey, don't rush another man's business." Surgeon Rick shrugged. "Who cares? We still got time."
"Somebody needs to do something before this escalates out of control." Ricktus returned his attention down towards Morty as he put his mind back on track. "Based on my previous clinical notes, this Morty is really good at yelling."
"Six years of medical school for that, huh?" Surgeon Rick did not look up this time. "Astounding. You're a real gift to your speciality field."
Ricktus moved to his feet and crouched next to the youngster's chair, his voice becoming soft as he spoke to him. "Hey there, little guy. Have you forgiven me for what I did to you and the hippie bird woman yet?"
Morty stared at the older male and made a sharp cry of alarm as he backed away.
"I don't advise doing that," the doctor instructed him. "You're going to fall if you go any further. While it wouldn't hurt you too much, you're not going to enjoy the experience and I'm not the Rick you want to pick you up again. I suppose I wouldn't mind it, but it sounds like you've already decided that you don't really tolerate my presence."
"Yeah, look who's talking to a baby now?" Surgeon Rick muttered. "Just don't torture yourself, bro..."
"It's fine." The reply was firm, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. "It's... i-it's fine..."
"Hey, boss. Get a load of this question," Surgeon Rick began to read aloud from the form in the attempt to distract him. "In the event of injuries not compatible with life, how would you like your remains to be distributed?" He paused. "Like, fucking what? Phrasing, anyone? Was this shit on your form, too? What did you put down?"
"To be honest, I don't even remember..." The doctor was silent for a few moments as he pondered what to do with Morty's deteriorating mood. "Give me your muffin."
"Wait, what? N-no!" Surgeon Rick objected. "It's mine!"
"That is a direct order, C-711." Ricktus glared at him, his tone cold and harsh. "Your muffin. Hand it over. NOW."
"Geez," Surgeon Rick grumbled as he pushed it across the table. "No need to be such a hard-ass..."
"Relax, it's for a good cause." Ricktus immediately grabbed it and handed it over to Morty. "I hope you'll consider this an adequate peace offering," he quickly told the little boy, "and a bribe to shut you up."
Morty quietened down as he stared at the strange object and tentatively reached out to grab it. In another moment he had worked out that it was food and hungrily mashed it into his open mouth with both hands.
"Don't choke on that, little guy." Ricktus smirked in amusement. "Don't give your Rick something else to complain about."
As if on cue, Rick made his way back to the table. He narrowed his eyes as he silently eyed off what Morty was doing, then shrugged his shoulders as if indicating that he didn't care. He took his place in the chair he had been sitting in before and picked up his fork to resume eating.
Surgeon Rick looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. "You OK?"
Rick nodded once and stuffed a forkful of waffles into his mouth so he didn't have to make any further reply.
Surgeon Rick's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer; his expression was enough to suggest otherwise. Still, he let it go; it was more than obvious that he didn't want to talk about it, so he wasn't going to push it. "Hey. If you die, what do you want the Council to do with your remains?"
"Don't care." Rick stated as he chewed through the mouthful of food.
"Yeah, doesn't matter once you're dead, right? What about this one?" Surgeon Rick read aloud the next outstanding question on the form. "In the event of irrecoverable injury, how do you want to die?" He hummed in thought. "Yeah, see, this one is actually kinda useful... I haven't actually had to use this data to put down a registered Rick yet, but it's handy to know."
Rick stabbed his fork in another piece of syrupy waffle and actually considered the question seriously. "Short and quick," he answered after swallowing, "and preferably painless. I don't wanna know about it." He offered another piece to Morty, but popped it in his mouth when he realized that the little boy was more happy destroying the muffin he had been given.
"Oh god, please kill me now..." Ricktus sank in his chair, his attention glued to the concourse out the shop-front window. "Whatever you're doing, stop. Shut up and look alive because the boss is coming this way."
"Like, as in the big boss?" Surgeon Rick looked out the window as well. "Holy shit, he is too... I wonder what he's doing out and about this early? Like, why would he even grace this dump with his presence?"
"Watch it, buddy!" A Rick from behind the shop counter roared across the room. "I can hear you over there!"
Ricktus gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. "Oh god, oh god, I can't do this..." His arms were visibly shaking, but his posture was otherwise stiff and rigid. "Can you get me out of here? I-I... I'm not feeling well..."
"Get your shit together!" Surgeon Rick firmly told him. "I don't do meltdowns, remember?"
Rick raised an eyebrow at the exchange; listening to them bounce off each other was both interesting and perplexing and now he couldn't pick who was supposed to be in charge. He was quickly distracted as six uniformed Ricks marched in through the front door of the diner and stood guard at the sides.
As if on some instinctive cue, everyone was on their feet except for him. An average-sized Rick in neat, white-and-gold robes casually sauntered in through the doorway with an expression on his face that could only be described as pure disdain. He was also wearing one of the same three-pointed star pins with the capital 'R' in the middle that he kept seeing everywhere, though his gleamed with well-polished gold.
Rick would soon learn that this was Riq IV, the spokesperson and mouthpiece for the transdimensional Council of Ricks. The only real noteworthy thing about him was his haircut; his head had been almost comically shaved and he only had three hair spikes – one on top and two at his ears. The only other interesting observation was how much of an effect his presence had on the others around him; everyone just silently stood there like obedient, trained dogs, or perhaps they were sheep. Even the two Ricks who had captured him were totally buying into it.
Rick snorted in disgust and resumed picking at his meal, more concerned over the fact that his waffles were becoming cold and mushy due to absorbing most of the syrup and butter that had come with them.
"Well, well, well... look at this lot." The newcomer looked around the immediate area with disdain. "Why aren't there more of you?"
Nobody answered. Somewhere towards the back of the diner, a Rick made a loud, guttural burp.
"You're supposed to be out there and recruiting, not standing around here like a bunch of fools." The Rick took two calm paces forwards and rested his hands behind his back. "If I had known the turnout was going to be this pathetic, I would have stayed in my own dimension. How many dead this week? Do any of you idiots know?"
More silence. It was only broken again by Morty, who began to cough as he sent slobbery, chewed-up muffin crumbs all down his clothes and across the table in front of him.
"Slow down, buddy... you're going too fast there." Rick told him.
The Rick made a soft hum to express his displeasure and moved across the shop floor, finally stopping beside Rick's chair. "What is this?"
"You tell me," Rick poked at the remains of a waffle with the tines of his fork. "It used to be breakfast. Now it's gross." He picked up a napkin and began to clean the little boy up with it.
Ricktus looked like he was about to die. Surgeon Rick elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"Hah!" The Rick was actually amused by the comment and just stood there for a moment as he tried to work out why this Rick would be so indifferent in his presence. Then he saw his wrist cuffs and collar as well as the young Morty sitting beside him and he worked out what was going on. "Ah, so you did get it here alive. I was hoping to see it for myself in its raw, natural form. Impressive... I didn't think either of you scrubs were capable of pulling it off."
"Thank you, sir!" Ricktus beamed with pride at the statement, forgetting all about the fact he was cowering mere seconds ago. "I haven't finished collecting all the data yet, b-but I think you will be most pleased. There's also a major issue we need to take care of, but I think we can fix him if-"
"I don't need your whole life story." The Rick silenced him with a casual wave of his hand. "All I need to know is if you can make it work. I want to keep this one alive."
Rick made a soft, warning growl; it sounded an awful lot like they were talking about him as if he were an object. Even though he had been warned about it in advance, he still didn't appreciate it very much.
"We're... w-we're trying our best for you, sir." Ricktus clasped his hands together and nearly crushed the fingers of his right hand in his nervousness. "We're still not 100% on the diagnosis, but we're hoping things will become predictable soon. We also-"
"Excellent." the Rick silenced him again with another wave. "The Council can provide you with more resources, if that is what you need." He turned his attention down towards the Rick still seated at the table. "Rick... B-526, is it? I can't be expected to remember all of you."
Rick finally looked up at the other, matching his expression with the same disdain he was giving him. "What?"
The Rick needed to stand there for a moment, trying to work out if that had actually just happened. "...I will forgive your transgressions because you are new, but I will not tolerate this behavior again. You do not yet know how things work around here, but you will learn in good time. Either way, it will be most interesting to see how your personality reacts with the others." He turned around and headed for the door. "See that you do not disrespect my presence again. I will see you at the Council meeting shortly."
The guards followed him out. It was only after they were gone that anyone could relax again.
"The fuck was that about?" Rick's tone was harsh as he blurted the question out. "I thought your pompous act was bad enough," he waved his fork at the doctor, "but that guy just took it to eleven. He's not that important, is he? Why do you care so much?"
"Oh... o-oh my god..." Ricktus practically collapsed back into his chair. "That was Riq IV, Rick... he's our boss, a-and he's responsible for everything here. Every Rick that ever was or ever will be a member of the Citadel answers to him." He lowered his head, needing time to calm himself down again. "He's the one who... who gave us the orders to watch you in the first place. By his directive, we captured you and now we are to keep you alive. In a short while, we officially present you to the Council for processing." He leaned forward in his chair and hugged himself around the stomach. "I... I-I can't do this... I'm going to be sick..."
"Agh, I can't take this shit anymore!" Surgeon Rick threw his hands in the air. "Now you're just being a baby!" He snatched up the keycard and took off towards the counter.
Although the waffles had gone completely cold, Rick decided to finish them off anyway; they were still better than all the repeat servings of bland vegetable soup he had been feeding off while he had been stuck on Bird World. He silently watched the Rick's crumbling demeanor beside him and noted that without the proud, confident act he kept putting on, he was almost as pathetic as the assistant he liked to push around. Still, he had no desire to help; he was still very much sour over how he had behaved towards him since they met. Even if he was just another product of the same hierarchy, he was still an asshole.
It was Surgeon Rick who would pull him back to reality; he soon returned with a mug of warm coffee and a muffin. "Here, take this," he set the mug down on the table in front of his boss. "But you're not stealing two muffins from me today. This one's mine."
Ricktus reached out with a shaky hand and took the mug, finally sitting back up to begin sipping on it. "Thanks..." He mumbled, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious and ashamed of himself. "It's times like these that you remind me why I keep you around..." He held it in both hands, his eyes fixed on the surface of the liquid. "You spiked this shit, didn't you?"
"Oh my god, boss!" Surgeon Rick's eyes widened with feigned shock. "What kind of Rick do you think I am?!" A wide grin suddenly grew across his face. "Of course I did."
"So," Rick picked up Morty and set him back in his lap, now that he was done eating. "There's one outstanding thing I keep hearing that you guys gotta fill me in on."
Both Ricks curiously turned their attention towards him.
"What's with this 'B-526' shit?" Rick narrowed his eyes. "You're saying I'm unregistered and you've already allocated me a number? How do you even know that I wanna be part of your secret clubhouse?"
Ricktus nearly choked on his mouthful of coffee. "Please tell me you're kidding!"
"No," Rick shook his head. "What's the BFD?"
"Oh god," the doctor set his mug aside and grabbed the pen that his assistant had been using earlier. "You've been playing with portals for how long and you don't know about their shorthand naming index!?" He picked up a napkin and began hastily scribbling a sequence of numbers down on it. "All you do is remove all the axes and locatives, which leaves you with the designator," he crossed out most of the numbers he had just written, "what you're left with is usually alphanumeric." He slid it across the table. "Your dimension just happens to be B-526. Mine is Q-316, and my assistant's is C-711. How... how do you not know this? This is basic stuff, Rick..."
"Oh... is that all it is?" Rick sounded disappointed as he glared down at the napkin. "Yeah I knew about that, but I just always remembered a location by its coordinate and its dimension by association. I guess naming them was never really important."
"How were you able to tell the difference this entire time?"
"I just archived the whole coordinate in my brain." Rick shrugged. "Not hard because they're all unique. I mean I guess I can see the logic behind naming dimensions like that for the sake of not writing down hundreds of characters, but... whatever."
"It's not so useless. Think of it this way - referring to Ricks by their dimension number makes sense." Ricktus picked his mug up again and took a long sip, savoring the taste. "When everybody in the Citadel has the same name, 'Rick' becomes less of an identity and more of an abstract concept."
"Is that why you have a stupid name?" Rick paused. "Don't think I'm ever going to call you that, by the way."
"Phh, it's not stupid, but yes." The doctor nodded slowly. "I did it to stand out and to be different. Some of us use our dimension index to refer to each other, while some prefer adding a title or a profession to the front, like this one here." He pointed to his assistant. "You should consider your own standout name or title, because there are about forty other generic Ricks in the Citadel who look just like you, save for that... why did you do that to your haircut?"
"What haircut? It's a comb-over." Rick grumpily ran a hand through his flopped-over spikes. "I'm going bald."
"Is that a new development?" Ricktus raised his eyebrows. "Hair loss is a rather reliable symptom of radiation exposure. I hope you added it to the data."
"No," Rick grumbled bitterly. "I can assure you that it's been happening for a very, very long time."
"Hey, I wouldn't even bother with that one." Surgeon Rick suggested and gave his own hair an experimental tug. "Most of us are going bald. Can't escape genetics, y'know?"
Ricktus leaned back in his chair, the sense of uneasiness returning as he pondered the conversation; this Rick was simultaneously switched-on and clueless and he wondered what other things he didn't know about. He had even less of an idea why the Council wanted this one alive so badly.
As the time edged closer towards midday, more and more members of the Citadel began to filter into the Council chambers. The doctor and his small group of three proceeded along with them, though he elected to stay towards the back of the congregation along with the other Ricks who were presenting official business at the meeting. He began to nervously pace in small circles around his captive, checking him over for minor things he could fix in the immediate.
Rick made a point of glaring at the others gathering around him, annoyed by the fact they were openly staring at him and the little boy at his side. He hissed when the lapels of his lab coat were readjusted, which turned into a growl when his electromagnetic cuffs were reactivated and his wrists uncomfortably clacked back together. "Hey, what the fuck?!" He yelped. "A little warning next time?"
"I've already explained this to you... I don't want to, but it's a necessary precaution." Ricktus told him. "If you are compliant, then I won't have to turn your collar on. You can manage that for a little while, yes?"
"Whatever..." Rick rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the room around him.
If the concourse had been gaudy enough, then the Council Chambers certainly put it to shame; the room was completely circular and just about every surface was lined with gold. Even the walls, the podium up the front, and the trees themselves were gold - perhaps they had been specifically planted to add to the theme or genetically engineered that way; he couldn't tell.
The members of the Council filed into the chamber and a murmured hush fell over the assembly as they each took their respective seats on the podium at the head of the room.
"Oh boy, this is my favorite part!" Surgeon Rick enthusiastically whispered across to his charge. "Did anyone tell you who they are yet?" He paused but didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Learn their names, because you're probably gonna be working with at least one of them soon." He pointed to the beginning of the line. "Guy on the far end is Rick Prime, Dimension A-0001. He's the first one we all came from. Rumor has it that it all started on the day his mom asked if he wanted to wear the blue or the yellow shirt."
"That's..." Rick screwed his face up in disbelief. "H-how utterly stupid..."
"Yeah, totally Rickdiculous, am I right?" Surgeon Rick pointed to the next one down the line. "Next up is Quantum Rick, he's the one responsible for spawning this dimension. He also does a fuckton of calculations and shit, I think? I dunno... whatever." He dismissed it in another instant. "The two in the middle are Maximums Rickimus and Zeta Alpha Rick, both super-important guys. Guy next to him is Ricktiminus Sancheziminius and word has it that the only reason he sits on the Council is because of corruption and blackmail."
"You can't prove that!" Another Rick nearby hissed at him, having overheard the conversation.
"Suck it, douchebag!" Surgeon Rick promptly retorted, ignoring him a second later. "Guy on the end is Riq IV. You've met him already, but the boss and I answer to him. He's always kinda mad about something, but nothing will earn his ire faster than Rickicide. He simply refuses to tolerate that shit. Expect to find yourself on trial if that happens."
"Why would I ever wanna do that!?" Rick snapped back. "How would that benefit me?!"
"Hypothetical you, not actual you. Chill, dude." Surgeon Rick sighed. "Just remember - these guys are awesome. Respect the Council of Ricks. Do that, and you'll go far here."
Rick raised an eyebrow, not really finding any good reason to agree; as far as he was concerned, the Ricks on the podium were as average-looking as any of the Ricks around him, save for their tacky robes and ridiculous-looking haircuts.
The meeting began without incident; the first couple of Ricks presented their business and findings to the Council and disappeared into the crowd again. A third broke through the line as he took to the floor in a fluster, looking very upset.
"The entity is coming!" He raised his voice to the whole congregation, fervently looking around as if he were still being pursued. "We all need to start running before it finds us!"
"Do you want me to shoot him?" One of the Guard Ricks in the back asked.
"No, I'll allow him to continue." Riq IV gave a short wave of his hand. "I-UURRPP want to see where this goes."
The Rick settled slightly once he realized he had everyone's attention. "The entity, it comes for you. It found me in my dimension, so d-don't think it won't find you in yours!" He cried out to the gathering. "It consumes everything it touches... it was like, a-a... a sentient, gaseous formation. First it ate the moon, then Earth, and then the Milky Way itself. I barely escaped, but... i-it probably devoured half my universe by now!"
"Bullshit!" A taunt came from the crowd. "There's no such thing as sentient gas!"
"Yeah, you made that up!" Another Rick joined in. "The only gas you all have to worry about is what's comin' outta my ass after taco night!"
A wave of collective groans and laughter echoed through the Council chamber as more than half of the congregation joined in.
Riq IV got up unhurriedly and stretched in boredom, regarding the crowd with the same air of disdain he had given everyone back in the diner. "SILENCE!" He bellowed the thunderous command, his stern, icy expression demonstrating that he wasn't going to tolerate another outburst. "You will all shut up and let this inane fool finish!"
Everyone quietened down again and all eyes were back on the Rick in the middle of the room.
"What do you suggest we do about it?" Riq IV sat down again and steepled his fingers as he regarded the Rick's story. "You're quite safe while you remain here."
"I don't know," the Rick suddenly responded. "Kill it?"
Riq IV's brow flattened; he had obviously been through this routine before. "With what?"
"With... with a really big gun?" The Rick suggested.
"Ugh, I've heard enough." Riq IV pointed towards the exit doors. "Get this idiot out of my sight. Go pick his brains and see if this story actually has any merit." He sighed with boredom. "Next."
"You can't be serious!" The Rick yelped at the Council as he was dragged away by a pair of guards. "The entity is going to consume us all and you're just sitting there!? You're all going to die!"
"Yeah," a Rick in the crowd chimed in, "we already know! Everything dies eventually!"
"Is this... is this normal?" Rick whispered across to his captors as the next Rick took the center stage and began to tell his story. "The whole thing seems like a goddamned circus."
"It's very normal, unfortunately." Ricktus groaned. "The Council is prepared to sit through all the bullshit stories if at least one of them is credible. It wastes a lot of time, but it's valuable if you learn something useful. Preparedness makes us powerful."
"You know who said that, right...?" Rick scowled.
"I'm well aware..." Ricktus replied.
As the Rick finished up his current account, Ricktus began to nervously fidget with his datapad again, hoping his speech was good enough for the Council. He jumped slightly after being elbowed by his assistant and he stared at the floor in front of him, wishing it would just swallow him up whole.
"Next." Riq IV's bored voice boomed out across the floor.
"You're up, boss." Surgeon Rick shoved him forwards. "Just get in there and do the thing. You got this."
"I-I don't want to!" Ricktus protested.
"Just do it, bro. It's too late now!" Surgeon Rick shoved him again and moved out into the open space with him. "Relax, you'll do just fine."
The doctor clumsily stumbled into the center area and clutched at his datapad to stop it from falling. He stared up at the Council members on the podium and his gaze quickly drifted across to all the Ricks expectantly staring at him from all over the room. "Shit, shit, shit..."
Surgeon Rick gave him a wide, encouraging grin and two thumbs up.
"I, uh... hi there," Ricktus tensed up now that he everyone's attention, "I, uh... R-Rick of Dimension Q-316 and my colleague, Rick C-711 would like to present a... a rather concerning issue to the council for consideration." He exhaled a heavy, nervous sigh as he mentally steeled himself, then launched straight into what he had written down. "A few weeks ago, the Council presented us with a particularly interesting Rick in a predicament... a Rickdicament so to speak." He motioned towards his captive. "It was difficult to get to this point, but... here he is. I would like to officially present the Council with our third live capture, and what may possibly become one of the most successful products of Project Rickdemption to date – meet Rick B-526."
Rick rolled his eyes; the Rick puns he kept hearing were becoming tiring. He stepped forwards, Morty timidly following at his heels.
"What I'm saying to you all is that we can learn from this Rick's experiences and do our best not to repeat them," Ricktus continued, his eyes glued to the handheld computer as he read from it. "I am here to present him to you as a cautionary tale, and so you can learn from his experiences. This Rick's reality is an example of what will happen if we allow ourselves to stagnate and if we allow our own choices to consume us."
"Wait, wait, wait..." Rick waved both hands as if to stop him. "What?"
The doctor didn't seem to hear him. "While this particular Rick seems relatively generic compared to what we have seen so far, he becomes interesting once we examine his variation parameters and areas of expertise outside of his educational background." He paused to scroll down the screen. "You see, this Rick also happens to be a wanted felon in his dimension and there is a heavy ransom on his head. He is an intergalactic terrorist as well as an illegal arms dealer. Some even call him 'The Destroyer of Worlds'."
"Hey, not cool," Rick was suddenly uncomfortable. "None of that is meant to be public knowledge..."
"This Rick has seen it all," the doctor continued, seeming to relax a little now that he was properly getting into it. "The Galactic Federation motherships, their hierarchy, possibly even the inner workings of their society itself. He has already agreed to provide us with knowledge so it would be prudent to ask him how their social caste structure works for the betterment of us all."
Rick furrowed his brow as he glanced around at the congregation; all eyes were on him and he didn't like it. At least nobody was trying to taunt him so far.
"As you are all aware, Ricks have a very distinctive and traceable brainwave pattern due to our genius. For some reason, this one didn't once think to consider that after destroying a monumental amount of Federation lives and property. He retreated to planet Earth in dimension B-526 for... how long was it?" Ricktus paused, shrugging when he decided it wasn't important. "This Rick couldn't face his own inadequacies and insecurities, so he left his wife and family, only to return to it years later out of guilt. To make matters worse, they actually accepted him back into their lives."
"Wait..." Rick's eyes widened upon hearing that information. "What? Where are you going with this...?"
Surgeon Rick raised an eyebrow at him. "Hey, uh... boss?"
"Shut up!" Ricktus quickly snapped and continued on with his speech. "I've never seen a Rick who cares so much about his family, but that's where his problems began. He stayed in one place too long and allowed himself to be discovered, and through his own complacency came his downfall. Using his own brainwaves against him, the bureaucrats used them like a beacon to track him to his front doorstep."
Rick lowered his head, his mind reeling; so THAT was how they found him. He had already known that it was his fault all along, but what he was hearing only confirmed it.
Surgeon Rick gritted his teeth. "Uh, hey... you OK there?"
Rick did not respond and stared downwards, his shoulders trembling. He felt like he was imploding. He was also feeling nauseated now and regretted eating so much earlier.
Ricktus didn't seem to notice what was happening and continued. "He tried running, but it was ultimately useless. They took it all away from him in an act of karmic retribution, just as he had done to them." He skimmed over a paragraph he had written, deciding it wasn't important either. "As a direct result of this event, this Rick has likely been poisoned by plasma radiation. It would be beneficial for the Council if we could continue to document this." He looked up at the podium expectantly.
"I'll allow it," Riq IV yawned. "Continue."
"Because of the events on this Rick's timeline, we can learn from his mistakes. We might even be able to finally turn this multidimensional, Rickicidal-epidemic event on its head." Ricktus began to nervously pace across the floor in front of the podium. "I know for a fact that this Rick will be able to provide you all with detailed accounts of the planetary-vitrification process, and possibly intel on how to prevent other catastrophic events from occurring on our own timelines... perhaps he might even be able to provide clues on how we can go about dismantling the Galactic Federation itself."
A tense uneasy murmur fell over the congregation; it was a bold claim and they all knew it.
The doctor ignored them. "This Rick knows everything, even if it cost him dearly. I hope that you will find him interesting enough to accept into our ranks." He scrolled to the bottom of his speech and kept reading. "If that happens, I would like to request that the members of the Citadel please treat this Rick with all the respect and dignity that is due, as he has unwittingly taken a rather hard fall on our behalf. Please afford this Rick your shelter until he is able to find his way again. He has been displaced. The Council protects their own, do they not?"
"Whoa, back the fuck up!" A Rick from the middle of the crowd suddenly barked out. "I'm gonna call bullshit... how do we know this isn't some elaborate story to make yourselves sound important? I-is it actually true?"
"It is..." Rick's voice broke slightly as he spoke in a low, defeated voice. "Y-you... you have no idea how much I wish it wasn't..."
"Hey, is that a Morty?" Another Rick called out. "Is it for sale? I'll give you three million credits for it!"
"What bullshit! That's a lowball offer and you fucking KNOW IT!" Ricktus suddenly roared back at him, his words carrying immense insult with them. "The last Rickless Morty went for at least four, a-and that one still has a Rick! Where do you get off with such audacity?!"
"I'll give you five mil," a Rick waved a keycard above his head. "And my apartment on the Citadel spire."
"Wow..." Surgeon Rick whistled impressively. "That's actually a pretty good offer. You gonna take it, bro?"
Rick wasn't paying attention.
Everyone began to chatter at once, and in no time at all, the room had erupted into a series of outrageous bids being yelled back and forth, along with the dull roar of everyone talking over the top of each other at the same time.
Riq IV rose to his feet and tried to call the crowd to order. "Quiet!"
"Somehow, I don't think B-526's Morty is for sale, so why don't you just crawl back to the dimension you came from, buddy?!" Ricktus bellowed back at another Rick in the crowd, positively incensed by now. "Who do you think you are?!"
"All of you, shut UP! NOW!" Riq IV's harsh command cut across the cacophony. "You're behaving like children! There are official protocols and guidelines in place before reassigning a Morty, and all of you should know them!" He sat back down and folded his arms across his chest. "This isn't a damn street market." He gave a wave of his hand once the crowd had fallen silent again. "Continue."
"Thank you, sir." The doctor coughed deliberately to draw attention back to himself. "If it would please the Council, I would like to be reimbursed for the time spent on this successful live retrieval, and to receive substantial credit towards my own goals. This is not some ordinary, generic Rick and you should not treat him like one, nor should we be paid like he is. We need to register him and gather his intel right away."
"Fine." Riq IV glared down at the small group. "I'll allow it if that is what he wants." He leaned forward slightly. "What say you, Rick B-526? Do you consent to being registered so you can assist the Council with inquiries?"
Rick didn't answer; his attention was on his cuffs, which were making noises as the metal parts lightly clanked against each other. He was shaking, but he wasn't even aware of it. He could hear the beat of his heart pounding in his ears and his vision started to waver. His stomach was violently churning and he was certain that if he moved a single inch in any direction, he would surely throw up everywhere. His only priority was to keep his head down and hold himself together so that he wouldn't crumble apart in front of the entire assembly.
"Hmm," Riq IV leaned back in his chair again. "At least he knows how to shut up, which is more than I can say for the rest of you." He raised his head, sneering in disgust at the sight of the cowering Rick before him on the floor. "Ugh, someone get that pathetic idiot out of here before he embarrasses himself. Bring all involved parties to my private chambers. We can discuss the issue in further detail there." He huffed. "Next."
Two Guard Ricks appeared to escort Rick away from the assembly. He did not put up a fight and simply followed along with them. A third Guard Rick came up behind them and grabbed up Morty, who immediately objected with a loud, ear-piercing wail.
Surgeon Rick frowned with concern as he watched Rick's body posture and behavior. "Can... we have some words, boss? Candidly, I mean."
"Uh, sure?" Ricktus blinked in confusion. "You normally have no problem speaking candidly, hell... sometimes it's borderline insubordination. What's stopping you now?" He nodded ahead of them. "We might as well follow them. It seems like the big boss wants to do more with this one."
"Y-yeah, seems like it..." Surgeon Rick stated, the conflicted, uneasy feeling creeping back up on him again.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I think that went rather well." Ricktus breathed a relieved sigh once they had walked out of the Council chambers. "You were right. As soon as I got in there, I was fine."
"Oh, it went well, did it?" Surgeon Rick angrily thrust his hands into his pockets as he paced along the concourse beside him. "And you're fine? Good for you, huh...?"
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" Ricktus raised an eyebrow. "What crawled up your ass?"
"Dude, speaking candidly here. Did you... did you like, even run any of that speech by him first?" Surgeon Rick nodded ahead of him, motioning towards the captive Rick. "It's like he was hearing it all for the first time." He made a sharp, frustrated sound. "It's like he... he didn't even know what was happening. Were you watching? He didn't like the fact that you put his entire life on show, but that part was unavoidable I guess."
"It happens to us all when we first get here." Ricktus replied in a quiet voice. "That wasn't my decision."
"Look," Surgeon Rick was hesitant now. "I-I go with a lot of stupid choices you make, even if I don't agree with them. It goes with the territory, but... the one you made just now was... seriously fucked up, bro."
"What do you mean?"
The surgeon let out a tense breath. "I don't... I don't think that Rick had a fucking clue how the Feds found him. At all." He shook his head. "The only way he found out was because he was forced to stand there and listen to you. I-if I didn't know any better... I'd say you just broke him."
"I, ah..." Ricktus stopped in his tracks. "Oh shit."
"Yeah, you get my drift now?" Surgeon Rick stopped in front of him. "Did you even think to tell him beforehand? No? You were so damn self-absorbed in not screwing up and making yourself look good that you screwed up anyway." His tone was suddenly harsh and scolding. "And you just screwed up HARD, brother. I hope you're prepared to deal with the fallout. You want that Rick alive? Yeah, well, good fucking luck now."
Ricktus's face fell in the realization of his assistant's words. "I, ah... I-I may not have told him any of that, come to think of it..."
