"There has to be something you can do," Rick growled.
The doctor only shook his head. "The medications I prescribed do not seem to be working."
Rick gazed at the floor with a frown on his face. Morty seemed to be taking them. As the prescription instructed, 2 pills were gone by the end of each day. So why wasn't it slowing down the buildup in his heart?
"You got anything stronger?" Rick pressed. His patience was running.
"Mr. Sanchez, I don't believe you know the dangers a stronger medication can lead to."
"I don't care! I'll find the cure myself if I have to!"
"Mr. Sanchez-"
"Give me the recipe! I just need a place to start."
"I'm forbidden by law-"
Rick's patience snapped. He pulled out his ray gun from inside his cloak and pointed it at the man that has been helping his grandson for the past month. Pulling weapons against people who help, very usual for a Rick. It took a lot of willpower to not pull the trigger right then and there. Rick needed the doctor alive.
The doctor's eyes blazed, but he remained calm even in the face of imminent death. He drew up his hands in a surrendering position, but he remained defiant.
"I can call the cops right now for threatening a doctor, Mr. Sanchez." He murmured with ice in his voice.
"One motion in reach for the phone and you're toast." Rick boasted.
"I just need that recipe, then I'll pull away the gun and be on my merry way. And you won't tell anyone or else."
The doctor remained the way he was for another moment, then blinked slowly.
"Threaten me how you must, Mr. Sanchez," he whispered. "I cannot let that fourteen year old die. I'm a doctor, I save lives despite my own."
Rick cocked his gun, his glare penetrating into the doctor's eyes as he reopened them.
"Remove your gun, Mr. Sanchez. I will give you the recipe under one condition."
"Go on," Rick snarled.
"You take the recipe and you leave; and do not come back. Ever. Not for a refill; not for a checkup, not for a screening. Nothing. Without a different legal parent or guardian, I'm afraid you have doomed your grandson."
The doctor's words were possibly colder than Antarctica, but his conditions were fair, Rick thought. He respected that. Rick removed his gun from the doctor's face and placed it back into his lab coat pocket. The doctor turned away in search for the recipe in the cabinets behind his desk.
"I hope you know I'm being too lenient on you pulling a gun on a doctor," he seethed as he searched. "You said you'll find the cure for him yourself. I expect you to fulfill that."
"Whatever," Rick dismissed. He folded his arms as he waited for the doctor to sort out his files.
Several awkward minutes passed of Rick staring while the doctor rummaged through his cabinet. Rick was about to snark when the doctor pulled out a manila folder and placed it onto the desk. In it was the file of Morty's prescription. From the initial diagnoses to every refill they had come by, all documented down in this stack of papers.
"You will find the recipe in here, under the paper that tells the details of each pill." The doctor explained.
Rick took the folder and looked through it. Sure enough, he found what he was looking for. He smiled passively at the doctor.
"I'll have to see what I can do," he said triumphantly.
"I'll have to see what you can do," the doctor retorted. "Now get the fuck out of my office."
Without another word, Rick stood up and left.
Morty stared at the folder that was placed on the table. "What do you have there?" he asked.
"None of your business Morty, now leave me alone." Rick growled.
Morty continued staring at the folder. Rick had not told him his plan; he wanted it to be a secret until he found the cure. He knew Morty would react badly if he was unable to get a refill, so he had to find the cure before he finished his bottle.
Rick yanked the folder from Morty's gaze and smacked him on the head with a whip of the wind.
"No peeking," he warned. Morty only stared curiously as Rick stored the folder in his locked cabinet.
"Hey Rick," Morty chirped. "Is there any reason why that folder is so secret?"
Annoyance was starting to prick. "Is there any reason why you can't shut up?"
"Well I…" Morty quivered. Whatever he was going to say, he couldn't finish it. Rick took a breath. Perhaps he was going too hard on the kid, but this isn't the first secret he has openly held in front of Morty. Why did his grandson have to be so nosy?
"Look, it's almost 12 am." Rick began. "Why don't you go to sleep. You have school tomorrow don't you? Go get some rest."
What he said probably shocked Morty more than if he had told him about his ordeal with the doctor. His curious gaze turned into absolute horror when Rick finished uttering those words. That gaze alone made Rick regret sending him to bed.
"Y-you...never told me to get some sleep before…n-n-not this early..." Morty stammered.
Trying to cover up this accidental care, Rick added as nonchalantly as possible, "Don't think too much about it. Just go to your room and get into bed and stay there."
Morty's gaze lingered for a second, before he yawned and started his way to his room. Whatever his thoughts were about being sent to his room, he didn't complain. Instead, as he was disappearing into the doorway, he turned back and thanked his grandpa Rick before shutting the door behind him, leaving Rick alone in the empty garage.
A moment's hesitation held Rick in a trance before he tore himself away and reopened his locked cabinet for the folder. He opened it, turned to the page listing the recipe ingredients, and began studying it. Most of these things were easily accessible, and those that weren't were easy to make. This was going to be easier than pie.
As he began working on his cure, in pills he had decided, his mind began to wander. He blindly mixed chemicals, following the instructions the files had given him, as he thought about all the things he had taught Morty and all the time spent with him running for errands and fetching valuable products in the name of science. How poorly Rick had treated his own grandson. This assistant didn't even ask for any of this, and yet he stuck by the old man even now when his heart is on the brink of stopping at any moment.
Rick felt a tinge of regret as he worked. No one knew this but he always felt more than he let on. Normally he dismissed these feelings as chemicals acting up, but this time he let the moods flow. It's about he learned his lesson anyways. From now on, if this cure works, he will treat his assistant better. Morty was growing of age anyways. He even got his own chemistry set. Who says he's not ready to begin his own adventures? Maybe even without his grandpa.
A capsule popped out of a machine. Rick quickly took it and placed it in an analytic container. A couple moments later and the screen read positive. Whatever Rick had done, he did it properly. He had found the cure for Morty.
"Aww shit dude, fuck yes," he whispered to himself. He set the machine to pop out more of these capsules, enough to replace the ones that he flushed down the toilet. "A month of popping these babies and he'll be as good as new!"
He set the container back where Morty had left it. By the time he was finished, it was 3 in the morning. He decided he could reward himself by going to bed.
A/N: Hospitals don't work like this!