Morty numbly helped Rick fill his grave back up, shoveling dirt back into the rectangular hole in the ground that led to his coffin. He was covered in dirt, and dressed in some fancy dress clothes that were torn and rotted, strips of fabric hanging off of it. Rick hadn't said much— only instructions, like "pick up that shovel, Morty," and "s-start f-bBbBUUuUrRrrp-filling the hole, Morty."
It was obvious after a while that Rick was quite drunk. It was obvious by the way he swayed as he shoveled dirt into the rectangular hole, and how his speech slurred despite how hard he tried to keep it steady. Morty hardly said anything either, partly because he was shocked, and partly because he didn't know what to say.
He had died.
He didn't know how long he'd been gone, but it had definitely been long enough for his family to set up a whole funeral for him. Speaking of, Morty paused in his shoveling, and turned to look at the marble headstone that was at the head of his grave. He'd noticed it when Rick was assisting him out of his own grave, but hadn't looked at it until now.
Carved in bold lettering was his name, the years he was born and died, and a small description.
Mortimer Smith
2002 - 2017
Loving son of Beth and Jerry Smith, brother of Summer Smith, Grandson of Rick Sanchez
Morty couldn't help the tears that built up in his eyes, but he didn't make a sound as they flowed down his cheeks.
He continued shoveling.