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. Not my IP, this is fanfiction. Don't sue me, I'm just a broke fan.

NOTE + Warning: Another Citadel chapter. Got so big I decided to break it up into two parts. Suicide is also a topic of discussion in this one, so please be aware if you find such material distressing. Also be aware that drug dealing (no usage) is in this chapter.


Stop crying like you're home and think about the show
We're all playing the same game, laying down alone
We're unknown and wrong, special when I come
Hate will make you cautious, love will make you glow

Make me feel the warm, make me feel the cold
It's written in our story, it's written on the walls

This is our call, we rise and we fall

- Reality - Lost Frequencies


Chapter 18 – A Rick To Live By

November 27th, 2:24pm Citadel Time, 2001
Cross-Temporal Rift Nebula, Location Classified
Citadel Of Ricks, Dimension Number Classified


Sitting outside the door of Riq IV's private chambers reminded the scientist of all the times he had been forced to wait outside the principal's office at school when he was a child. Although the events between then and now certainly weren't the same, he still felt the same deep-rooted contempt for authority and couldn't see any worthwhile reason why he had to wait for this person. He didn't know what made him so important, other than the fact that everyone else in the place seemed to hold him up on a pedestal.

Rick had been led out of the assembly, across the concourse of the Citadel, and into a high-rise building in the middle. After that, they had led him into an elevator that ascended many levels high above the rest of the structure. Not that he had been paying attention to any of it; the guards escorted him the entire way while he was still in the middle of his meltdown. His mind was off in another galaxy and his body was still in shock.

The guards had since sat him down on a bench outside what was little more than a plain office door, and then they had set him up with a bucket, which now sat squarely between his legs on the floor. While he certainly felt nauseated enough that it was necessary to have there, he hadn't felt the need to use it yet.

The same four words repeated over and over in his head, tormenting him.

"It was my fault..."

His mind was still reeling; Rick had already known that the Galactic Federation had vitrified his planet just to spite him and teach him a lesson about destroying so many lives and property, but the information he had received during the assembly only gave him the actual proof to go along with it. He buried his face in his hands and leaned forwards, his body trembling; it was as if a deep wound had been reopened and now he was hemorrhaging fresh pain all over again. It felt as raw as the moment it had happened and he hated himself for not being able to move on.

"It was my fault..."

He nearly jumped a foot in the air when he felt the gentle, reassuring hand on his back. He reflexively recoiled away and promptly retreated across the bench he was sitting on, kicking over the bucket in the process.

"Hey, uh... didn't mean to get that reaction. I should have just announced I was here, right? Sorry, bro." Surgeon Rick cautiously sat down on the same bench not too far away, allowing him some space. "You wanna talk about it?"

"N-no..." Came the immediate response. No thought was needed whatsoever; Rick didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think, period. He had a harsh desire to drown everything out with alcohol, not that he could because his wrists were still bound together. Then he realized he didn't know where the bag he packed for Morty was or where Morty himself was for that matter; he couldn't hear him anywhere nearby.

"That's good." Surgeon Rick admitted. "Because I don't wanna hear about it." He took the Gameboy out of his pocket and resumed playing. "It's no problem to me if you don't wanna talk, but at least know I'm here for you, OK?"

Rick made a soft noise in disgust. "I... I-I don't need your pity."

"Not giving it," Surgeon Rick gently assured him. "I'm just here to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Rick heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor nearby and he raised his head towards the source of the noise; Ricktus was pacing up and down the same five feet of floor, his head lowered, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

"T-the... the fuck is his problem...?"

"Oh, don't mind him." Surgeon Rick reached into his pocket and took out another game cartridge to slot into the back of the Gameboy. "He's probably about to get fired."

"WHAT?!" Ricktus exploded in a state of emotion that was an even mix of rage and panic. "What the fuck is your problem, and how dare you even suggest that!?" He stomped towards his assistant and smacked the handheld game out of his hands. "You're forgetting yourself an awful lot lately! I know my place! It's high time you remembered yours!"

"Hey man, what the FUCK?!" Surgeon Rick clambered for the device, only to cringe when it hit the floor. "That was on loan from my kid! Sh-she's gonna be awfully pissed if she finds out you broke it!" He gave his boss a harsh shove and moved off the bench to pick it up and inspect the damage. "Shit, bro... I'm not the one responsible for this fuck-up. Don't take it out on me!"

Ricktus actually seemed to regret the action but merely corrected his posture, too proud to bother apologizing. He moved away once more and resumed his agitated pacing. "It's not a fuck-up. We followed the order just as instructed. I'm not going to get fired."

Surgeon Rick carefully loaded the batteries back into the Gameboy and closed the lid. He flicked the power button on and off but nothing happened. "Ah shit! You've gone and fucked it!"

"I'll get you another one," Ricktus replied in a subdued tone. "Or you could try taking out the cartridge and blowing on it like everyone else does."

Surgeon Rick took a moment to entertain the suggestion, but when nothing happened he erupted into his own fit of anger. "You fuckin' broke my daughter's Gameboy, dude! You're disgusting!" He reared his arm back and pitched it at his boss. "Y-you you could have made the same point without touching it!"

The doctor flinched as the device struck him in the shoulder, but he was not willing to escalate the issue any further; he knew he'd already taken it too far - he was always so good at doing that. "I'll replace it later."

"Can you both just... shut up?" Rick mumbled through the heated exchange. "I-I don't wanna listen to this... you're both arguing like children."

"You're right." Ricktus replied with a short nod and was silent again.

"Where's Morty...?" Rick sat up again; despite the fact he was mentally destroying himself all over again about ruining his grandson's life, he still wanted to know if he was safe.

"Don't actually know," Surgeon Rick seemed to calm again as he answered and sat back down on the bench. "I saw one of the Guard Ricks take him away. You may as well ask the big boss where he went when he hauls you into the office. Wonder what he wants with you?"

"I... I-I have no idea..." Rick hunched forwards again. "I just wish he'd hurry up and get on with it so I can leave..."

"I don't know if they'll let you leave like that," Ricktus spoke up suddenly. "In that state of mind, I mean."

"What...?" Rick looked up a second time to glare at him. "I've done everything you wanted! Get me outta here... give me back my portal gun already. Y-you... you can't keep me on the hook forever!"

"I really can't," Ricktus sounded incredibly conflicted and turned away. "But the orders were to keep you alive and well by any means necessary, even if that means keeping you safe from yourself."

"Oh, not THAT again!" Rick protested, feeling his anger rising; it was an easy emotion for him to fall back on as well an effective cover. "Why do you keep bringing that up?! That's over and done with, t-this is fucking bullshit!"

Before any more could be said, an entourage of Guard Ricks marched up the corridor, accompanied by the entire Council of six. Two guards immediately took their posts on either side of the door to Riq IV's private chambers while the others moved away to stand watch nearby. At the head of the Council was Riq IV, who casually stepped forward and regarded the small group of three with a disapproving scowl before unlocking the door and ushering his fellow councilmen and one of the guards inside.

"You scrubs are to stay outside until you are needed." Riq IV's command was aggressive as he glared at Surgeon Rick and Ricktus, respectively. "Have the anomaly brought into my office." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Rick was immediately prodded in the shoulder with the barrel of a rifle and he turned his head away. He was prodded a second time and responded with a loud growl, refusing to budge.

"Dude, don't keep him waiting." Surgeon Rick frowned. "The big boss isn't unfair, but he doesn't have any patience at the best of times. You're gonna set a bad impression right off the bat."

"Mmm... m-maybe I don't care..." Rick replied, his expression turning dark. "I-I never asked for any of this."

"Just go, man." Surgeon Rick sighed in frustration; even though his charge's pain was open enough to observe, his stubbornness was just as easily visible. "You wanna get this over with? The sooner you stop fucking around and get in there, the sooner you can leave."

Rick moved to his feet after seeing the logic in the statement and finally allowed himself to be led inside the office.

Surgeon Rick released another heavy sigh and bumped his head back against the wall behind him once he heard the door close again. "Fuckin' hell, what a day..."

"I know, right?" Ricktus picked up the discarded Gameboy and carefully set it down beside him. "This one was a considerable amount of effort, but we're nearly done. You'll have forgotten all about this within the week."

"You think...?" Surgeon Rick placed a hand on his forehead and closed his eyes. "Maybe not, bro. The retrieval order kept emphasizing his importance, so like... maybe we'll see him around? I dunno. Feels bad, man..."

"What do you mean?" Ricktus raised an eyebrow.

"It's just that, well..." Surgeon Rick was hesitant to speak his mind after what had happened earlier. "I-I kinda feel like we've sent this Rick to his death."

"The objective was to get him here alive, C-711." Ricktus hovered nearby for a moment, then paced away again. "We've done that. It's up to the Council to decide what to do now. All we have left to do is negotiate our retrieval fee and then we can move onto the next one. This is just another day. Throw another starfish back into the ocean, so to speak."

"That's so dumb." Surgeon Rick grunted. "It's just, the biggest issue I have is... we held him in quarantine more than long enough to get him informed, but when did we? When did we, boss? We didn't. We failed him."

"We didn't fail anyone. We got him here alive and we did our job to the letter." Ricktus turned on his heels and headed back towards him. "Stop investing your emotions into this damn project, C-711. You're only going to keep hurting yourself."

Surgeon Rick made a soft sigh and put his head down; as much as he didn't want to admit it, his boss was right.

"You're never going to see him again. And if you invest yourself into the next live one? You're only going to get hurt again when that one leaves, too." The doctor finally stopped to stand over him and adopted a tall posture of superiority. "We can't afford to care about them. We need to keep treating this clinically. You would do well to remember that."

"Man, it's so much easier when they're already dead..." Surgeon Rick shook his head. "What do you think that Rick's gonna do once he gets his freedom back, knowing what he knows now, boss?" He formed his hand into a gun and pointed his index and middle finger straight to his temple. "He... h-he's gonna blow his fuckin' brains out... I know I would. This is my fault as much as it is yours."

"I'm well aware of where that Rick's mind is right now, but it's within everyone's best interests to prevent anything drastic from happening." Ricktus scowled, his tone becoming firm and resolute. "You need to stop assigning blame. Take a step back and remind yourself that you don't kill them, all we do is end their suffering. It is the enemy's fault, not yours. And ultimately, the point of this place is to halt that as well."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Surgeon Rick grumbled as he reached across the bench to place his broken Gameboy back into the top pocket of his scrubs. "So what do you think they want with him?"

Ricktus sighed in exasperation and turned away to walk back down the hallway. "I only follow the instructions, C-711. I don't presume to know what happens afterwards."

"What do you think happened to his Morty?"

"I don't know!" Ricktus sharply retorted in frustration.

"Hey, keep it down!" One of the guards next to the office door relaxed his stiff, attentive posture slightly. "Which one of you is C-711?"

Surgeon Rick raised his head, giving him a suspicious glance. "Who's asking?"

The Guard Rick set his gun aside and cautiously approached him. "D-5712 is... you got candy?" The question was barely above a whisper as he sat down beside him.

Surgeon Rick's eyes widened as he was taken off guard and quickly covered for it with a hard, icy scowl. "I-I have no idea what you're talking about..."

"Come on, dude." The guard tried to encourage him with a gentle nudge of his elbow. "Ain't nobody here but us silvers. Not trying to pull a bust on you either, I'm not an undercover narc. This is a legit candy request. I got a huge party later and I'm looking to impress my crew. Hook a brother up?"

"Ugh..." Surgeon Rick awkwardly glanced up and down the hallway; his boss was less than five feet away and he already knew where this was going. "...what you need?"

"Rock candy if you got it," the Guard Rick replied in a hushed tone. " Hell, I'd even buy it crushed as long as it's not cut."

Surgeon Rick surreptitiously reached into his top coat pocket. "I'm carrying four crystals, but they're for personal use, so... it's gonna cost ya."

"You know, my eyesight might be poor, but my hearing certainly isn't!" Ricktus turned around to glare hard at the pair. "I really wish you wouldn't conduct this kind of business right outside the Council's door!"

The Guard Rick shook his head at the doctor. "You know C-711 supplies to Sancheziminius, right?"

"Hey, not cool..." Surgeon Rick protested. "That was meant to be a secret."

"Chill, everybody already knows. But because it's him, nobody wants to do anything. Corruption goes all the way to the top." The Guard Rick was silent for a moment. "What's your rate?"

"Hmmm..." Surgeon Rick went quiet, torn between getting a lecture and a good rate on his product. "75 council credits each. Or I can do all four for 300 in cash. You got non-sequential hundred-dollar bills?"

The Guard Rick took out his wallet. "Sure do, buddy."

Ricktus's eyes widened and he visibly bristled with anger. "You said you were never going to do that again! I thought you were better than this!"

"Shh!" The Guard Rick feverishly waved a hand at him. "Keep it on the down low, the whole section doesn't need to hear you."

Ricktus stomped away in disgust. In less than five seconds, a wad of notes and four sealed pouches of pink crystals were exchanged. The Guard Rick stuffed them into his uniform and briskly disappeared down the hallway. The other guards didn't seem to notice or care and continued to stand watch at their respective posts.

Surgeon Rick tucked the cash into his scrubs and lowered his head after the deal was done, a mixture of shame and dread; he knew what was coming next. When he felt the presence of his boss standing over him again, he did not look up.

"Where did you get the kalaxian crystals?" Ricktus's tone was stern and he sounded hauntingly like a parent scolding his own child. "Please don't tell me you're back at stealing the pharmaceuticals from the ship! We've been over this... don't break my trust again!"

"I-I quit a long time ago." Surgeon Rick promptly tried to cover for the fact he'd just been caught out. "I just sell the stuff now."

"You're such a bad liar, C-711. Do not insult me by trying again." Ricktus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Personal use? I heard you, idiot! What were you thinking!? How long have you been back at it? You're going to kill yourself one day!"

"Hey, don't judge! I-I wasn't gonna use it." Surgeon Rick tried again. "That cash will keep my family fed for a week. Lizabeth is gonna ask me for financial assistance again soon, I just know it."

Ricktus sank down next to him on the bench. "If that's actually true, then you should tell her to source her own income. Start saying 'no' a lot more."

"Can't. Lizabeth is still in college and her Jerry is unemployed. I'm the only one keeping them from defaulting on the mortgage and the cash injections are the reason the grandkids get fed at all." Surgeon Rick placed his head in his hands. "Family obligations suck, yo..."

For once, the doctor couldn't see a reason to disagree with him.

"So," Surgeon Rick attempted to change the subject. "What do you think is happening in there?"

"Oh, for..." Ricktus finally snapped at him. "For the last time, I don't fucking know!"


Rick was seated at an oval-shaped table in the middle Riq IV's spacious private chambers. If it were meant to be for business or personal affairs, he couldn't tell; the room's furnishings were an even blend of office furniture and the same things one would expect to find in a lounge room. Opposite him were seated five members of the transdimensional Council of Ricks, while Quantum Rick was at a free-floating, holographic whiteboard nearby, his mind buried in a massive set of equations that covered most of the visible surface.

The scientist found himself self-conscious and incredibly agitated; the seated Council members were all openly watching him as if taking him in or sizing him up. Not a single word was spoken as looks were exchanged, though it was Rick who finally broke eye contact when he decided that enough was enough.

"Well, if you're going to keep staring at me like that," he glowered down at his wrist cuffs, "at least buy me a drink first."

Riq IV made a short, amused sound. "Of course." He raised his right hand to summon the guard. "Get the blue decanter from my private reserve."

The guard nodded and promptly slipped out of the room.

"You are the anomaly, aren't you?" Zeta Alpha Rick broke his silence finally. "How are you still alive?"

"I have no reason to believe the plasma-radiation claim. There's nothing reliable going on to suggest it." Rick grunted in reply. "It can't be ruled out because I don't know with one-hundred-percent certainty, but it's an educated guess based on previous observation and knowledge. Your lackeys are wrong, but it looks like nothing's gonna convince them otherwise until they see it for themselves."

When the guard reappeared with two shot glasses, Rick could feel his already low mood deteriorating further - all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and pretend that reality didn't exist, yet it looked like the Council members were going to force him into staying put for the time being. After the shots were poured, he raised both arms to display the fact his wrists were still bound together. "As much as I'd like to oblige your hospitality, i-it's just not gonna happen like this..."

"You'll find a way, I'm sure." Maximums Rickimus sat up properly, a wide grin coming over his face. "So this is what all the fuss was about? It looks and behaves like just another generic Rick to me."

Quantum Rick spoke up from his place at the holographic whiteboard. "Of course it is. Most of them first arrive that way. I'll likely be here for at least another month working out exactly where it fits, but that one is the most reliable yet."

"Reliable?" Ricktiminus Sancheziminius hissed back at him. "None of them have been. Your calculations are never accurate."

Quantum Rick's reply was incredibly grumpy. "I am never wrong."

Rick narrowed his eyes; he had no idea what they were talking about. A moment later, he decided he didn't care, as he had more pressing concerns on his mind. "Where's Morty? What have you done with him?"

Riq IV raised a hand as if to dismiss the query entirely. "He will be returned. Our resident archivist is busy adding him to the records. Not that you asked for it, but you'll thank us later. Mortys are considered to be a bit of a novelty here. Ricks treat them like pets or accessories, or perhaps a statement of wealth. An unmarked Morty like yours is easily stolen and reassigned."

"Unmarked...?" Rick's tone was low and dangerous. "The fuck is THAT supposed to mean?"

Riq IV scowled, already finding his brash attitude and disrespect for authority difficult to deal with. "It means you sit there until we're done with you."

"Well that's just great..." Rick awkwardly picked up the first shot glass with the index fingers of his cuffed hands and tossed it back in one gulp. He set the first one aside and immediately repeated the process on the second. He didn't even care what was in them – it was alcoholic and that was all that mattered. "So here I am... that one-UURRPP Rick you wanted alive. Hurry up and get this over with so I can decline your offer and be on my way."

Rick Prime folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, vaguely impressed. "So this really is it, isn't it? So hostile... are you sure this is the one you wanted?"

"Yes." Riq IV's reply was blunt, as if issuing a warning to the questioning of his command. "We have been over this."

The room was silent again.

Zeta Alpha Rick rapped his fingers on the table, his brows furrowed in thought. "I want to read the file again. I feel like there's something I've missed." He fixed his gaze back on the Rick opposite him on the table. "How has your treatment been so far?"

Rick made a soft, discontent sound in the back of his throat and scowled down at the empty shot glasses; whatever they had in them, he wanted a lot more. "Fucking dismal if you want the honest truth... I've been abducted, laid out on a table, shoved in a room I couldn't escape from, kicked in the balls, and... a-and now I've been tied up against my will and carted off to this place like I'm some kind of sideshow."

"Actually, you're just interesting," Zeta Alpha Rick tried to reassure him. "Everything about you is worth paying attention to. Your abrasive personality, your vast branch of expertise, and your dimension's set of circumstances are most fascinating. Even your values are intriguing - the fact you so willingly carry a Morty around with you is... it's certainly different. But why would you inconvenience yourself like that?"

"Oh, so he's an inconvenience, is he?" Rick raised his voice; he did not like what he was hearing and anger was easy, even more so with how emotionally charged he already was. "Is that all you see him as!?"

"Settle. I am not intending it to be an insult." Zeta Alpha Rick tried again. "It's just that you could be using your mind to accomplish great things. Instead, you've elected to waste your time and potential to become the surrogate parent to what is little more than a burlap sack filled with turds. You're not even treating him like a pet. It's almost like you see him as an equal."

The other Council members softly laughed in mockery.

"You think he's a waste of time!?" Rick glowered at him. "Say that shit about my grandson again, I-I dare you!" He turned his glare on the rest of the seated Council members. "What's wrong with all of you?! You're complaining to me about potential when you don't even see it there for yourself? Have any of you even bothered to spend five minutes with your own damn Mortys?!"

"Sold mine nearly a year ago." Ricktiminus Sancheziminius folded his arms, offended by the suggestion. "He was a useless piece of shit. Any intelligent investor knows to sell when the price is high."

"Mine no longer exists," Quantum Rick stated plainly. "Neither does my original dimension. I discovered how to reverse the Big-Bang and accidentally imploded it."

"I think mine went missing?" Maximums Rickimus looked genuinely confused. "Who cares, really?"

Rick got to his feet, barely able to contain himself. "The fuck is wrong with you all!? Something felt wrong about your stupid Citadel the moment I set foot in it, b-but your mindsets are fucking off the rails! You don't care about me or Morty, do you? I'm just interesting, huh?! You're... you're all disgusting! You make me sick!"

"Settle down!" Riq IV's words were a sharp command as he raised his hand up, motioning for him to sit again. "You forget who you are speaking to, B-526."

"Oh, I know full well," Rick replied forcefully as he slammed his hands down on the table in front of him. "But I don't give a FUCK about your hierarchy bullshit! D-don't tell me what to do, I'm not one of your sheep! A-and I get that you've made a sanctuary to protect all the Ricks you've suckered into doing all your dirty work, but you've gone and put yourselves on top of it!"

"Settle." Riq IV warned him again.

Rick wasn't having any of it. "You-y-you... your solution to hiding from the government was to form your own government? D-do you have any idea how hypocritical that is?!" He was practically yelling at them now. "You're real kings of the mountain, aren't you?! But your empire is a huge fucking pile of garbage!"

Riq IV was positively seething now, while the other Council members were a mixture of offended and annoyed. After another moment, Rick decided it was best to take his seat again. Quantum Rick seemed to ignore the exchange entirely and continued working through the outstanding equation in front of him.

"Something wrong?" Rick challenged them. "Am I the first Rick with enough balls to actually call you out on it? Aren't you going to reprimand me for insubordination? What about my bad attitude, which might be caused by, o-oh, I don't know... the fact I'm still restrained? What crime have I committed!?"

"Actually, it's all quite refreshing to listen to." Quantum Rick calmly spoke up. "You are what they're looking for, after all. I'd rather be listening to the objections of Ricks like you than the silence of a thousand dead ones."

The comment was obviously designed to get everyone's mind back into perspective and it certainly worked. However, the statement left Rick feeling confused; he still had no idea why they had dragged him in here in the first place.

"So," the scientist decided to just speak his mind. "Why am I here? Because aside from feeling grossly uninformed, I'm not having a particularly good day... I-I wanna be on my way again and I'm sure you all have better things to do that sit there and listen to me bitch at you."

"Ah, yes," Maximums Rickimus nodded in understanding. "Anyone could see what was unfolding in that Council meeting and it was... most unfortunate. How are you faring now?"

"Not great." Rick admitted, though it was a vast understatement. "It doesn't fall in my worst-ranked top ten, but it's pretty far up there. I-I don't really wanna talk about it."

"I see." Maximums Rickimus nestled the fingers of his hands in each other and set them down on the table. "If that question you were presented with during the Council meeting was answered, you would have found yourself up here anyway."

"So you were just gonna drag it out and make a spectacle of it... great." Rick growled. "Seems like a whole lot of hot air over nothing. What's the point? What was so great about me that you had to put all this effort into getting me here alive, and why are you making such a big deal about it? And why the wrist cuffs? Were you hoping to get me fired up at the meeting and exploit my temper as an example of what happens to Ricks who dare speak back to their superiors? Because that's about the only place I can guess you'd be going with this."

"On the contrary," Riq IV was amused by what he was hearing now. "We want to offer you a job."

"Wait, what?" Rick stared at him. "After all that, you... you..." He narrowed his eyes, the complete lack of understanding unable to be hidden. "Why me?"

"No doubt you've already been told you're 'a Rick of interest', and that is especially true in your case. Your set of experiences and your attitude sets you apart from the rest." Riq IV was proudly grinning now. "A Rick like yourself has the perfect balance of selflessness, determination, a blatant disregard for authority, and just the right amount of arrogance. Your gumption, persistence, and innovative thinking keeps you alive regardless of circumstance, and your personality does not suggest that you are a cowering peon like the rest of them. Put simply... we need more of you."

"You're... y-you're kidding, right?" Rick snorted derisively.

"Not even slightly," Riq IV shook his head. "I know it is still in its early days, but the population of the Citadel already feels... stagnant. A Rick like you needs to continue existing and make decisions to propagate the multiverse with better versions of ourselves. Most of the worthless peons out there are not interested in the betterment of anything. They're hedging their bets on the safe option of being protected and some of them are barely worthy of being here at all." He made a loud sound in mockery. "You're vastly superior to them."

"No I'm not... I've met Ricks independently before all this mess began. They're all like me, they're... assholes." Rick quickly shook his head. "Nothing really sets us apart."

"I'm sure you'll think differently soon enough." Riq IV watched him carefully, figuring his proposal could go either way at the moment. "If you spend more time observing your dimensional siblings, you'll soon notice just how different they are to you. They are... lesser. And a lot of them are just cowards."

Rick frowned; now that he thought about it, that statement wasn't actually untrue. He'd already seen glaringly obvious contrasts in the Ricks who had stolen him from his native dimension, as well as differences in the Ricks who had been walking around the Citadel. "It's not cowardly if you gotta run." He stated after a moment's silence.

Riq IV shrugged it off and continued. "Your circumstances will suit our needs perfectly. You no longer have any prior commitments, and thus the Council of Ricks would like to officially offer you a full-time position here at the Citadel. For now, we need a Galactic Federation informant and an advisor to the Council. You will be afforded accommodation and we will even allow you to keep that scruffy little Morty you seem to like hauling around."

"Hey, watch it!" Rick narrowed his eyes and made a sharp, warning growl. "For now, huh? You mean you have other plans for me?"

Riq IV ignored him. "What say you, Rick of Dimension B-526?" He began removing items from the drawer under his side of the table; first a set of keys, then a silver three-pointed pin, a sealed envelope, and then finally a small pager-like device. "The next step is registration and officially recording you in the database. The members of the Citadel will have much to discuss and learn from you."

"Uh, l-let's not get carried away just yet." Rick grunted as he eyed up the silver pin, immediately disliking its presence. "How about we start by removing these things?" He raised both arms again and nodded towards his wrist cuffs. "I also probably need about nine more shots before I can tolerate listening to any more of your bullshit."

Riq IV considered his suggestion; while he wasn't enjoying what he was hearing, he hadn't heard an outright rejection to his offer yet. After another moment, he waved his guard back to his side. "Bring in the scrubs and pull something else from my private reserve. I do not care what it is this time, we may be here a while."

"There is also the outstanding matter of the unregulated portal device." Quantum Rick spoke up once the room was quiet again. With a calm flick of his wrist, his holographic whiteboard disintegrated and he used the same device to display images of Rick's portal-gun blueprints. "This is an interesting design variation. I have not seen a plasma core used in this way for a long time and I wish I could have seen it intact and in person. However, the design in its current state presents a rather-concerning problem. "

"Well, that explains why those were stolen from me..." Rick glared hard at the display. "I wasn't aware that portal guns required regulation, not that I would comply because screw your stupid rules. All I did was invent the portal gun and redesign it as needed. Nobody else in my dimension has ever thought of something similar. It's a one-off, y'know? I-it's mine... how can you regulate something that nobody else has even done before?"

"What you are saying is true for all Ricks that fall on the central finite curve." Quantum Rick said in a flat, uninterested tone that suggested he had already explained this countless times before. "Only a Rick has managed to unlock the gateway to the multiverse and the infinite, but that is part of the problem, as there are no guidelines or standards on their portal-gun designs. We have been trying to implement them since the formation of the Council." He brought up the next hologram slide, which contained documented photos of the parts. "A rogue portal device like this in the wrong hands would be devastating."

"I'm not sure if I know what you're getting at..."

"Then I'll make this simple for you - install a self-destruct mechanism in your portal gun when it is returned to you." The Council's mathematician turned away from the hologram to narrow his eyes at Rick, his expression turning stern and serious. "If you continue to adventure across the multiverse, then you cannot allow multidimensional portal technology to fall into the wrong hands... it would put every timeline that ever existed at risk. Forget about the Galactic Federation pursuing you to the ends of your own universe, it would become bureaucrats banding together across infinite timelines similar to what the Council of Ricks is doing now, only on a much larger scale." He paused deliberately. "Everything we know would be, for lack of a better term, royally fucked."

Rick was silent as he considered the thought, his brows knitted hard in discontentment.

"If the bureaucrats ever did obtain access to multidimensional portal technology, I'm not sure they'd be responsible enough to know how to use it wisely," the councilman went on. "If they managed to break the multiverse itself, everything would just... stop existing."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Rick snorted in disgust. "I get it. Fine, I'll do it... but I need to get my portal gun back first."

Riq IV leaned back in his chair, feeling accomplished; it looked like he was finally getting somewhere. However, he didn't have time to ponder it and his attention was quickly redirected to the door of his private chambers as the Guard Rick shoved Ricktus and Surgeon Rick in through the doorway. "Ah, excellent. Both of you scrubs, get over here. I want you to take a seat alongside your live retrieval, because we have much to discuss."

Ricktus did as he was told without a second thought.

"I've been meaning to ask you something about that, boss." Surgeon Rick was far more relaxed as he sat down, opting for the chair on the other side of the scientist. "You mean like, medical scrubs? Or the fact that we're trash-tier? Because that's funny either way. I see what you did there."

Riq IV gave him a look that could kill, only to ignore him afterwards. "Tell me," a wide, predatory grin came over his face as he locked his gaze on the doctor. "Does this Rick look dangerous to you?"

"Uh..." Ricktus nervously gripped the edge of the table and gave Rick a quick sideways glance as he tried to guess the kind of answer that his superior would want to hear. "He... he's a wanted felon in his dimension, sir."

"That's not what I asked." Riq IV bared his teeth, thoroughly enjoying himself now. "Does he look dangerous to you? Will he pose a threat to the Citadel if you take off his collar and cuffs?"

Ricktus was hesitant before answering this time. "No...?"

"So why is he still wearing them?" Anger rose in the councilman's voice.

"Y-you asked me to do that, sir!" Ricktus cowered in reply.

"Well, listen to what I'm asking you now, fool!" Riq IV barked back at him. "Remove them! We do not treat our new arrivals with such poor hospitality!"

Rick sat there as the items were hastily taken off and he wondered if the Council actually enjoyed tormenting their underlings. He rubbed at his wrists after the cuffs were gone, relieved to have some degree of freedom back. "So what happens now? Are you gonna give me my grandson back so I can leave?"

"Actually," Riq IV slid the sealed envelope across the table. "The rest of you can leave instead. I wish to talk to these three in private."

There was a collective wave of audible moans and grumbles as the other Council members and the guard filed out of the room. Quantum Rick unhurriedly deposited the holographic device on the table before he slipped out the door.

Ricktiminus Sancheziminius stopped in front of Ricktus on his way out and stood directly in his personal space. "If you're truly competent enough to bring one back alive, then here's another for you." He thrust a folded note into his hands without waiting for a response. "One of my business partners has gotten himself captured. I trust that you are smart enough to work out the rest." He made a point of slamming the door shut behind him as he left.

Ricktus stuffed the piece of paper into his coat pocket and quietly took his place at the table again.

Riq IV narrowed his eyes at the exchange, but chose to ignore it. "Now that unpleasantry is out of the way... perhaps we can return to the actual business at hand." He nodded towards the envelope. "This is what you can expect to receive upon completion of your current work. If you wish to renegotiate the offer, you can do so via the proper avenues." He pushed the other items across the table. "This is your standard-issue distress beacon and pin, B-526. You are expected to wear it at all times while you are here."

Rick promptly pocketed the set of keys and picked up the distress beacon to inspect it, but left the pin untouched, not wanting to have anything to do with it after considering what he'd already heard about the treatment of Ricks who wore the silver version. "What is this?"

Ricktus grabbed the envelope and tore off the seal. He remained silent as he read the piece of paper inside, though it was clear from his expression that he was completely stunned by what he was seeing.

"How much is it, dude?" Surgeon Rick asked eagerly as he tossed Rick's registration papers onto the table, figuring that step was coming next.

"If you find yourself in a situation that you cannot escape from," Riq IV ignored the other Ricks who were seated on either side of the one in the middle as he explained, "then you can activate that beacon and a member of the Citadel will be dispatched to retrieve you at the earliest convenience. You might like to think of it as an insurance policy or a last resort. The Council protects their own."

"Come on, bro! Stop holding out on me!" Surgeon Rick protested. "How much is it?"

"O-oh my god..." Ricktus folded up the piece of paper again and slid it across the table towards his assistant. "This is only on completion, right...? There's still so much work to do..."

Riq IV nodded. "At the very least, there is the official registration process and collecting intel. I'm not paying you until you can guarantee his survival."

"About that," Ricktus lowered his head, regret weighing heavily on his mind. "We need to have a discussion."

When Surgeon Rick unfolded the offer letter, his first sound was little more than a pathetic squeak of joy. Then he threw his head back and pumped both fists in the air, bellowing a loud cheer. "Oho, fuck yeaaahhh, baby! MAKE IT RAIN!"

"I don't think that's how negotiation works, C-711..." Ricktus sighed wearily. "You're not supposed to accept the first offer you receive."

"So what was it?" Rick raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

Surgeon Rick smacked the piece of paper down in front of him to show it off. "2.1 million, yo! You're a fuckin' goldmine!" He playfully elbowed Rick in the ribs with all his enthusiasm. "Cha-ching!"

Rick immediately took the opportunity to elbow him back, not appreciating the gesture at all. Before he could get too wound up about it, another unfamiliar Rick opened the door and carried in one very-asleep Morty with him. The Rick simply placed Morty onto the table and slipped out again without saying a word.

"That was weird." Rick huffed in annoyance as he reached across to take the little boy into his arms. "I-is that normal?" He immediately made note of how non-responsive Morty was and a concerned frown grew over his face. Then he found the little gauze patch stuck to the boy's neck and began to pry it off, feeling his anger rising all over again. "What is this?"

"Yeah, it's very normal." Surgeon Rick quickly answered. "That was Archivist Rick, but he doesn't talk much. He's super weird, and I don't think he's seen sunlight in yea-"

"What the fuck IS this?" Rick growled over the top of him. "W-what did you do to my grandson?!" After pulling the bandage off, he gently ran a finger across the two tiny sutures he discovered on his neck. "I didn't consent to this! Y-you've violated him!"

Riq IV rolled his eyes. "I've already explained this to you. Your Morty has been sedated and marked with a subdermal microchip that is officially registered to you. The Council has the same procedure performed on all Mortys to ensure that they are not stolen and reassigned. Settle down, it does not hurt them at all."

"That tears it. I-I've heard enough..." Rick's tone became low and dangerous as he spoke through clenched teeth. "This place is the fucking worst, a-and what you did to Morty just now i-isn't even the half of it. You... you wanna know what the real insult is...?"

The two Ricks on either side of him watched him silently, while Riq IV's mouth set in a hard line.

"You all speak of sanctuary and protection, b-but it's bullshit. None of you are even remotely interested in that claim..." He spoke in a voice so quiet that the others could barely hear him. "If you were serious, y-you would have..." His shoulders were shaking and he seemed to be having difficulty articulating his thoughts. "You... y-you all... you knew what was going to happen to me. The. Whole. FUCKING. TIME." Each word was spoken with particular firmness and it was clear that he was getting more and more worked up with each one. "Didn't you...?"

"Hey come on, bro." Surgeon Rick attempted to placate him by reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. "Don't be like that, huh?"

"Don't tell me what to do..." Rick snarled back at him in a threatening tone. "All of you were watching me for how long? You all knew what was coming for me, and yet... you did nothing. You just," his breath momentarily caught in his throat, "you just let it happen, d-didn't you? I-is that why you've been watching me the whole time...? Was my planet's demise really just an interesting thing to document...?"

"Rick, please don't entertain this line of thought right now." Ricktus shook his head. "We can talk about this later, OK? I need to fix it anyway..."

"Oh, you actually WANT to talk now!?" Rick snapped his head back up and glared at him, wild-eyed and dangerous. "Well, that's a start! Why don't we talk about the fact you did NOTHING?! I-if your damn organization was so fucking interested in saving my life, then why the hell didn't you give me the advance warning to just get the fuck off my planet earlier?!"

"Non-interference code." Ricktus replied simply.

"Th-that didn't seem to matter when you ABDUCTED ME!" Rick bellowed at him before snatching up the silver Citadel-of-Ricks pin, and he hurled it across the room in a blind rage. "THIS is what I think of your fake hierarchy! Fuck you, fuck your stupid Citadel, and fuck your Council bullshit! If this is how you do things around here, then I-I want NO PART OF IT!"

Riq IV rose to his feet, having decided that the conversation was getting out of control. "What would you have had us done differently? Deploy the entire population of the Citadel to destroy the Federation in your dimension!?" He placed both hands firmly on the table in front of him and gave the other a stern look. "Don't be insane! Most of them are incompetent and would die. Besides, there are barely two hundred of us, which isn't even enough to make a scratch on them. We couldn't save your planet and we can barely save ourselves as it is!"

The outburst seemed to calm Rick down a little, but it certainly didn't make him feel any better. "S-some advance warning would have been helpful..." He lowered his head once again and his shoulders sank in defeat. "M-my family didn't have to die like that..."

"What did you want to discuss, Q-316?" Riq IV growled out the question; he was nearing the end of his patience and was tiring of them still being there. "Make it quick, as I have other business to attend to."

"As you can see, the hours ahead of us are going to be critical." Ricktus spoke quickly, wanting to get to the point right away. "I'd like to request containment of our live retrieval until his mind is in a better place."

"I'll allow it," Riq IV shrugged. "Do whatever you need to. Maybe you can teach him how to behave while you're at it."

"What?!" Rick howled in protest. "N-NO!"

"It is already done." Riq IV raised a hand to silence him. "I know this is a lot to take in. In less than the space of two weeks, you've gone from a quiet inventor with a mundane, domestic lifestyle to one of the most highly desired Ricks in the multiverse. You are not in a good place to make an informed decision at this current moment in time, but I hope that you will reconsider your stance on the Citadel after you have sat in time-out long enough to settle down."

"F-fff... fuck you!" Rick spat back at him.

Riq IV chose to ignore the blatant disrespect. "What happened to your dimension was nothing short of unspeakable, but you are probably not surprised to hear that similar occurrences happen all the time. You will be given ample time to decide whether or not you want to join the Citadel's ranks. I only hope that you do not disappoint me." He turned to face the doctor. "Get him out of here."

"Good," Rick muttered back. "We're finally in agreement about something. I-I never wanna see this place again..."

Ricktus removed the portal gun from his coat and began to punch in the coordinates back to his ship in Dimension Q-316.

"One last thing," Riq IV's tone was suddenly much more quiet and sincere than it had been a moment ago. "Don't let this break you. Otherwise, they've already won."

The other two Ricks around him were silent and unwilling to respond. When the portal opened up, Rick was only too happy to get to his feet and retreat through it; anything was better than staying there.


November 27th, 10:25pm, Local Ship Time, 2001
Unnamed Nebula, Space
'Verdant Harbinger', Dimension Q-316


Shortly after returning to the ship, Rick was placed back into quarantine all over again. He put up no protest this time, but he still hated being stuck there.

However, this time his RFID wristband had been revoked, along with his free-roaming ship privileges. Rick pounded on the door, yelled demands at the ceiling, and at one point he had even tried looking for the hidden observation camera to hurl strings of abuse at it, but it had all been to no avail - his captors weren't going to let him out just because he was making noise. They knew damn well what they were doing, even if he did not agree with their intent.

Rick slammed his back against the wall and sank to the ground; Morty would provide no company while he was still under the effects of sedation, so he had left him in the crib to sleep it off. For the time being, he was alone in the dim light of the room with nothing but his thoughts and time, which was the worst combination of an already bad place to be in. He began looking around the room for another escape and soon found it in the bottle of whiskey on his table; bandaging his hurt with alcohol had always been an effective strategy and he didn't see any reason to stop now.

In another moment, he was was up on his feet and in the middle of the room to snatch it up, then he tore the cap off and began to drain it of its contents. He sank heavily into one of the chairs at the table and did not bother looking up when he heard the door open.

"I didn't want to do this," the voice that came in tried to explain as if it would help somehow. "But you didn't exactly leave us with any other choice. This is for your own good, you know."

Rick finally looked up when he heard the chair being pulled up on the other side of his table. "Oh," the words were bitter and full of hatred, "it's YOU."

"Yes, it's me." Ricktus interlocked his fingers together and carefully watched the other, the faintest hint of concern on his features. "Is this place safe enough? Do you need me to take you somewhere so you can't hurt yourself?"

"I-is anywhere safe, really...?" It sounded like a genuine question. "I'm not sure what that means anymore..."

"I was actually hoping this would resurface," the doctor admitted as he pushed the glasses he wore back into position on his face, "I deeply regret how you learned the details of your planet's demise, but now that we're talking about it..." He ran a hand nervously through his thick brush of spiky hair. "There are no more nasty surprises coming. Now you know everything."

"Is THAT supposed to make me feel better?" Rick's reply was seething with sarcasm. "Why are you really here...?" He brought the rim of the whiskey bottle to his mouth and took another long swig out of it.

Ricktus just sat there and watched him, torn between taking the bottle away and letting him keep it; he knew either option would only cause more harm but there was no way he could fix this one. "Look," he tried again, "I'm sorry that I fucked up. I don't pretend to know what you're feeling, but I think the reason you keep getting yourself so damn hung up over the loss of your family is because you're not giving yourself any time to think about it and grieve."

"I didn't ask to be born..."

"I didn't choose to exist as a physical entity either, yet here we are." He folded his arms and decided to just get to the point. "This is going to sound entirely counterproductive, but just let it out. Really, I mean that. Don't be ashamed to cry if you have to, go right ahead. Nobody's going to judge you for it, least of all me." He had to pause for a moment and consider his next words carefully, as he didn't want to make the conversation about himself. "Perhaps it is my fault that you have had so many distractions up until this point, but no more. You've got to stop pushing this out of your mind and allow yourself to feel bad about it."

"Don't... tell m-" Rick's words were cut off with a loud burp.

"What to do? Really?" The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Listen up, because this time I'm going to. You obviously don't know how to deal with your issues and I want to help you. I'm trying my best to keep you alive here... how can I do that? Because I can't release you in confidence knowing where your mind is."

Rick made a loud, frustrated growl as he set the bottle back down and huddled up into a ball on the chair. "I... I-I can't believe you're still on that. I told you it was over and done with."

"Is it?" The doctor persisted gently. "You don't sound convincing."

"I wasn't aware that I needed to!" Rick fiercely retorted. "Look, who doesn't want to kill themselves? How many times have you thought, 'hey, existence is meaningless, so what's the point?' I-it doesn't even matter..." He slowly shook his head, but remained curled up. "Everyone thinks about it, but i-it turns out that things are a lot more complicated than that... I-I still got shit I wanna do. Not that it was any of your business."

The other Rick just listened quietly; while he still wasn't entirely convinced, he was slightly less worried than he had been before.

There was a long silence, and both Ricks simply sat there in each other's presence for a while, neither one wanting to speak.

"Humor me," Rick finally sat back up to take another mouthful of whiskey from the bottle. "There... t-there's no way to conceal th-UURRPP brainwaves, i-is there?"

"Not at all," Ricktus sounded quite down about it. "No Rick has ever successfully discovered a way to. Your only viable options are to hide at the Citadel, to keep running, or to dimension-hop until you're pursued in the next one you retreat to."

"Then my original statement stands. I-if there's no hiding from this," Rick tapped his forehead for emphasis, though he immediately regretted it with how much the alcohol was affecting him already, "then why hide? Fucking... I wanna g-get out there and murder everything!"

The doctor relaxed a little more after hearing the declaration. "You're still on that, aren't you? Good." His voice was quiet as he slowly nodded in agreement. "I get it. If you can hang out here for a little while longer and demonstrate that you're not going to wipe yourself out, then I'm happy to let you get back to it. There's nothing in the room you can hurt yourself on, but it's more about intent at this point."

"I still don't get you," Rick narrowed his eyes at him. "Why are you doing this to me? If you really didn't give a fuck, you would have let me go, but... here I am."

"I don't want to see you die," Ricktus admitted. "I've spent far too much time on you and my project to waste it now." He slid out of the chair and headed for the door. "Listen to me, Rick – I need you to spend time quietly chilling out here. Take as long as you need to. I will unlock the door again for you when you ready. I'll give you your portal-gun pieces back, too. Just be sure to make the modifications that the Council requested of you. Is that understood?"

"Yeah... b-but you know they're lying to you, right?" Rick's eyes tracked him to the door. "That Council ain't gonna give you shit. I only spent about an hour with them and called them out on their bullshit the minute I worked them out."

"I..." Ricktus stopped himself. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Look, you're looking for acceptance and acknowledgment from your superiors, right? I get that, b-but they're never gonna give it to you." Rick took another long pull from the whiskey bottle. "You want them to pay attention to you? Start talking back and-UURRPP challenging their command. They're... t-they seem to be looking for Ricks like that for some reason."

"Are they now...?" The question was one of genuine surprise.

"Those idiots don't care one whit about protecting you," Rick continued. "T-they... they're only interested in using you for information so they know how not to die."

Ricktus stood in front of the closed door with his back to the other, his hand hovered over the keypad.

"They're promising you and everyone else like you safety, but it's a lie." Rick knew it was alcohol-fueled rambling by now, but he didn't care. "It's just an excuse to lord their power over a hierarchy that they themselves put in place - i-it's just like any other government... it's bullshit!" He slammed a fist down on the table. "The sooner both of you get out from under their asses, the better off you'll both be. Fuck the government, go do what you want... start thinking for yourselves and don't be sheep."

"You think I don't know that?" Ricktus glowered as he turned around to face him. "We know what the Council is like."

Rick blinked at him, confused. "Then why...? Why bother serving somebody who's only interested in screwing you over?"

"Trust me," Ricktus turned around once more and began to punch in the door code. "Once they give me what I want, I'm done with them, and I'm taking C-711 with me... he's too good for their shit."

"Do you... do you e-ever tell him that?"

"Why would I? He knows how it is." Ricktus stood in the open doorway and tilted his head back towards the other. "And before you ask, no, I don't want to talk about my own agenda with the Council. You're smart, I'm sure you'll figure it out. I only ask that you do not speak of it. It... still needs more time."

Rick watched the door close behind him and raised an eyebrow; so much for 'knowing everything'.

It didn't take long for his mood to slip again; the silence of the room and being alone meant that his thoughts would creep back up on him. The fact that he had already consumed half the bottle hadn't helped yet, so he got started on the remainder.

Despite his tolerance levels, the drink did its work faithfully; his head soon swam with the familiar sensation of drunkenness that he had been so desperately craving. It still couldn't mute his mind, though; thinking about the way his daughter and granddaughter died hurt to his core and he hated himself for it. There was nothing he could do to make it better either; it was his fault and it was tearing him apart inside. It was fortunate that Morty was asleep because Rick wouldn't have even been able to bring himself to look at him; his life had barely begun and he'd already destroyed everything for him.

He was good at destroying things.

What he had done was utterly deplorable and he would never be able to forgive himself for it. He genuinely believed that he deserved to die, and the irony was that everyone was still trying to keep him alive.

He hadn't moved on - he hadn't even started. Thinking about it wasn't helping either; it was like being tortured. Every fiber of his being hurt, the pain almost suffocating him. His breath came out in sharp, uneven heaves as he did his best to contain himself, but he knew there was little point in that, too. There had been truth in the doctor's words; he had to face it sometime, as he had been avoiding it far too long.

He just wished he was better at being able to cope with it at all.

When the scientist felt the sensation of nausea growing in the pit of his stomach, he decided it was time to retreat to bed. He sluggishly forced himself to his feet and gripped the whiskey bottle by the neck, intending to take it with him. It only took a single step away from the table for him to trip over his own feet and he went down with a hard thud, the bottle smashing as it struck the tiled floor beside him. Glass shards cut up his hand but he didn't care; it had been mostly empty this time, so it wasn't as devastating as the time he lost a bottle of whiskey in the same way back in Birdperson's tree house.

He didn't even bother getting up this time, and as far as he was concerned, he belonged down there.

As he watched the blood from his hand blend with the spilled whiskey on the floor, he wished the universe would just smite him down where he lay, but then again, maybe it was keeping him alive as punishment for how much of a scoundrel he was; perhaps it was karmic retribution, even though he didn't believe in such nonsense. It didn't even matter once he had his portal gun back - he could run anywhere he wanted, but he would never be able to escape from himself.

He didn't want to exist.


Surgeon Rick knew all too well that it was difficult to sleep when one had a lot on his mind. After dumping the live retrieval back in quarantine, his boss had given him the rest of the night off. However, all he could do was stare at the ceiling above his couch while his TV blared on the far wall of his personal quarters - it was only on for background noise and a distraction, but it wasn't working. He was far too busy thinking about the events that had unfolded at the Citadel of Ricks, and his personal responsibility in the live capture's breakdown.

He actually felt guilty about it; he'd tried pushing it out of his mind, but it hadn't worked. His boss's policy of only giving away information until needed had never sat well with him, but this time it had been downright irresponsible and may have even cost him the live retrieval's life – everyone who had ever bothered to read his file knew that he had been flagged as suicidal; he'd even attempted it previously according to the data.

Watching their charge crumble during the assembly had not been pleasant to witness, nor had watching him utterly lose it at the highest level of authority in the Citadel. At the very least it was going to cost them their retrieval fee; they could only collect it if the Rick had agreed to register, and that looked very unlikely now.

So much for winning the lottery.

"Ugh..." Surgeon Rick back sat up and pushed the blanket off himself, realizing how terrible he was at not caring. He didn't know how his boss managed the feat, but then again maybe it was a lie, just like his ridiculous act of pride and confidence.

He was utterly torn in how to respond and was unsure if he should check the monitors and invade Rick B-526's privacy, or just go in there and check up on him. The trip to his room was shorter than walking all the way to the terminal room, so he opted for the latter, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He was in the dim light of the hallway within the next couple of minutes and had to scowl as he navigated his way through the corridor; the ship's automatic processes had switched the lighting to the night-time setting and it was harder for him to see than normal.

The other inhabitants of the ship obviously couldn't see much better, as he was crash-tackled around the legs by one of his boss's stray genetic experiments.

"Oww, FUCK!" Surgeon Rick cried out as he hit the deck. He felt a long, sticky tongue immediately trying to groom his face as the offender tried to apologize and appease him, but he quickly shoved it off and got to his feet again. "Go back to your own part of the ship!"

The worker bee adopted a submissive gesture and flattened herself against the ground, her response a string of upset buzzing and chirps that suggested she was actually sorry for what she had done.

Surgeon Rick kicked his heel out at it, but deliberately missed. "Stay in your own damn territory! This part of the ship belongs to us, and you know that! Now get outta here! Fuck off and go do... uh, bee things."

The insectoid creature got to her feet and bounded off, her giant, scythe claws ticking across the metal ground as she went back to her business.

"Fuckin' hell..." Surgeon Rick shook his head. "I swear those things are far more intelligent than they let on..." He resumed his journey to the other Rick's door. Once in front of it, he mashed in the door code and immediately took note of two outstanding concerns as it opened before him - the sharp scent of alcohol in the air, along with the ear-piercing cries of a very miserable young boy.

He was across the room in three short bounds when he saw the Rick on the ground – it was a higher priority in the immediate. "Shit, shit, shit..." He crouched down beside him and placed a hand on his neck to feel for a pulse. When he found it, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Hey, buddy. What are you doin' down here?"

Rick's first response was a weak groan as he was woken up, and then he raised his cut-up hand to bat him away. "F-fuck off..."

Surgeon Rick didn't need to ask what was going on; just looking at him was obvious enough to draw a conclusion. "Can you stand up? Do you need my help hauling your ass to bed?" When the hand swatted at him again, he caught it and held onto it to inspect the injury. "Damn, yo. Why'd you do this to yourself?"

Rick made a short sound in protest and forcefully yanked his hand away. "I-I deserved it..."

Surgeon Rick sighed a second time. "If you say so..." Now that he knew Rick was still alive, Morty was becoming the higher priority. "I'm gonna roll you onto your side. I need you to stay that way for a bit." He placed both hands on the other and repositioned him, finding it quite easy considering how much of a dead-weight he was being at the moment. Once he was satisfied that Rick wasn't going to roll onto his back again, the surgeon moved to his feet and headed over to the crib to retrieve Morty from it. "Promise me you're gonna stay down like that until I get back, OK?"

Rick's only reply was a slurred, indecipherable mumble.

"Good," Surgeon Rick figured that was as much consent as he was going to get out of him for the time being. "Remember, don't move." He hastily slipped out of the room.

Five minutes later, he had set Morty up again with a fresh diaper and a bottle of warm milk. After placing him back in the crib, he lingered momentarily just to make sure the little boy would settle.

"You reckon you could chill out there for the night, little guy?" Surgeon Rick knew there was absolutely no point in asking such a question of a baby, yet he did anyway. "Your Rick is kinda fucked up and he needs you to not bother him."

Morty was quiet as he snuggled in amongst the blankets; he was still feeling the effects of the sedative and was far too drowsy to put up a fight.

"Yeah, that's what I wanna hear. You should hang out there more often anyway. Your Rick spoils the shit outta you by letting you sleep with him. One of these days he's gonna crush you by mistake." Surgeon Rick moved away to stand over Rick once more, who had since fallen asleep again in the short time he had been away. "OK, bro. Time for bed, because you can't stay down there." He crouched down beside him and carefully sat him up. Once he had draped a floppy arm over his shoulder, he hauled him back onto his feet and began guiding him towards the bunk bed.

Rick clearly did not want to be moved; all he had wanted to do was stay down and forget about everything. The change of height did very little for how he was feeling and he abruptly threw up down the front of himself and onto the floor. "Ah, shit..." He hissed. "S-sorry..."

"Don't be, brother. I deal with worse shit all the time!" Surgeon Rick cheerfully laughed after the declaration. He navigated the rest of the way across the room and carefully sat his dimensional counterpart down on the edge of the bed. "You know what is a problem, though? Now you're gross and I can't leave you like that. You think you could hang back here a sec? You're about my size and I got something you can sleep in. I also gotta patch you up, fuck it." He lingered for a moment, then dashed out of the room again.

Rick's response was a barely audible 'no', but he did as he was told this time and just quietly sat there until the other returned again. He did not put up a fight when he felt the sensation of his soiled clothing being stripped off, nor did he seem to care when his limbs were held onto as the new clothing was placed on. While his hand was getting bandaged up, he just held it out and let it happen; all he wanted to do was sleep, and was prepared to tolerate anything if it meant being able to do so faster.

"You're all good now," Surgeon Rick told him in a quiet, gentle voice. "But I'm gonna sit with you until you fall asleep, OK? You gotta stay on your side... otherwise, you risk choking if you puke again. You understand, right?"

Rick furrowed his brows in protest; he wanted to tell him that he didn't care if he died in his sleep. He also wanted to tell him to go away, but he also knew that it was very unlikely to happen with how much attention his caregiver was spending on him currently. Instead, he gave a quiet, resigned sigh and clumsily flopped down onto the mattress behind him.

"Ah-ah-ah," the other Rick's voice became firm. "What did I just say to you? Your side, buddy, your side. Lie on your side if you don't wanna die. It's like, the cardinal rule of drinking too much."

"D-didn't drink too much," Rick grumbled as he moved across the bed to lie down properly. "M-more... more like... n-not enough..."

"Look, bro... nobody's going to fault you for this." Surgeon Rick pulled up one of the chairs beside the bunk and sat down, prepared to stay as long as needed. "But don't make a habit out of it, OK? Your Morty needs you to be there for him."

The words were like a sharp stab straight to the heart and it cut the scientist down in an instant. A loud heave suddenly racked his chest and he brought his hands up to cover his face. "M-Morty doesn't need me... h-he never did..." It didn't take much for the last ounce of his resistance to crumble and he broke down in a fit of sobbing.

"Ah, shit, not again..." Surgeon Rick folded his arms and glanced off to the side, not really knowing what to do. He felt bad about setting him off, but then again it was bound to happen at any given moment considering everything that had occurred over the last several hours. He cautiously reached over to place a hand on Rick's head, then began to ruffle his fingers through the thick mess of spiky hair when he was not met with an objection. There was little point in saying anything by this point; nothing he could say or do would make it better. All he could do was offer his company, which likely wouldn't even be appreciated very much because they barely knew each other.

After a time, Rick finally calmed down again. When he relaxed and began to drift backwards, Surgeon Rick grabbed his shoulder to hold him firmly in place.

"Your side, buddy," he reminded him. "You gotta stay like that all night."

"D-don't care..."

Surgeon Rick rolled his eyes, though he took it as a good sign that his charge was still stubborn enough to want to keep protesting. This job was unlike so many of the others that the Council kept sending him, though one aspect remained the same: he was used to cleaning up their messes and mistakes and this job easily fit both of those definitions spectacularly by now.

When his arm got tired, he switched to the other one, feeling rather foolish for the new compromised position he was now leaning in. When he withdrew his arm to rest it, his charge slowly lulled backwards again.

"Fuckin' hell, bro... a-are you even listening to me?"

Rick made a grumpy sound in between slowing, uneven breaths. It was very clear to him that he had completely overdone it yet again, but he didn't care; all he wanted to do was sleep.

Surgeon Rick released a weary sigh; he was becoming tired himself and there was no way he could comfortably sit like that all night. Instead, he opted to climb over the other and occupy the space on the bunk behind him. Once he had pushed him to the edge of the bed, he wedged himself up against his back and used his entire body length as a solid object to make sure that his charge couldn't roll again during the night.

"Whenever you're ready to talk, I guess I'll do my best to listen." He told him. "I don't do meltdowns, but this job was botched the whole way through and you didn't have to suffer for it."

As far as Rick was concerned, there wasn't anything more that needed to be said; all the points he'd already made seemed pretty clear. Instead, he decided to sum up his entire thought process with just five words. "...I-I don't want to live."

"Yeah buddy," Surgeon Rick spoke after a long moment of silence. "Me too."