Whoo! Hatius over!

Sorry about the long break everyone, but I have been dealing with some depression. I actually hope to get the next chapter out by the end of today; so cheer me on!

Also, upcoming contest! Check the bottom for a description!

"Only trust someone who can see these three things in you: The sorrow behind your smile, the pain behind your love, and the reason behind your silence."

Unknown

Unspoken Trust

The streets were bustling with a wide array of people from all walks of life. Aliens from unfamiliar worlds intermingling in a crowd without a care, among the bright neon signs and pastel colored buildings. It was a harmony between species, on a world that segregated the rich and the poor. It was ironic if you asked Rick. A planet without racism that ostracized the lower classes. So many different peoples able to live peacefully, but at the same time, extort the less fortunate. It was one of the many reasons that Rick did not believe in world peace; why he was labeled an anarchist by the Galactic Federation.

A few signs levitated above them, advertising various products. Dark green leaves crunched beneath his shoes. They had fallen from the large, purple trees that rose from the sidewalk. He took a pull from his flask, feeling small tugs at his lab coat. He craned his neck back to look at his grandson; Morty was following obediently. He gave a sigh of both relief and frustration.

Morty held tight to the tail of his coat with one arm, the other grasping a stick which he was dragging across the sidewalk, occasionally bumping up against garbage cans. At least he's keeping pace. It was disconcerting how the boy acted around other people. He cowered and clung to Rick like a leech, refusing to give him any breathing room. Rick was not used to this. He took another sip from his flask.

Rick wouldn't have to worry about Morty getting lost or wondering away, but at what cost? He glanced at Morty once more, the kid was avoiding the scattered leaves; frightened to step on them. As if the ambient crunching would wake an unknown beast to come down on them. He had a white-knuckled grip on the coat, but tried to appear like he was busy playing with that interesting stick. Rick snorted. The boy was very good at hiding his emotions, Rick would give him that much.

As they passed aliens along the way, Morty swerved to avoid physical contact with creatures that appeared male. Rick noticed the wariness, he was too good at picking up on things. Sometimes he wished that he could trade his paranoia for a little bit of ignorance. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Rick was all too aware that his grandson feared being sexually assaulted. It pulled on his heartstrings to imagine people bigger and stronger than the boy, forcing their sick fantasies on him. People who preyed on those weaker than them sickened him. He took yet another pull from his flask. The people who didn't have the guts to face someone their own size made him absolutely sick. Morty knew that there were bad people out there, he knew all too well that there were evil bastards waiting to hurt him. Something a child his age should be none the wiser about. But Morty knew.

The stupidly fearless, outgoing, happy boy from the first adventure was gone. Leaving behind a scared, shy, husk of what he once was. It was a huge step back, but a necessary detour. Morty had to learn to be around others, he had to understand that not all people were bad. Rick groaned when Morty tripped over a cup, nearly pulling him backwards as he fell.

Morty let go of the coattail, standing back up as Rick tapped his foot impatiently. He looked up to his grandfather and gave him a sheepish smile. Rick's lips twitched in response, his eyes settling on the stick. Morty caught his gaze and turned to find the flimsy wood snapped in half, obviously broken in the stumble.

Morty only paused for a moment, a blank look on his face, before gripping the coat once more – ready to continue on. The stick forgotten in an instance. Rick resumed the trek, thinking to himself. He wouldn't admit that he was a little proud that the kid didn't burst into tears, like a normal kid would have. But Morty was anything but normal. He had proven himself much more... he wasn't just a shield like the others. No, he was worth much more. A genius among idiots. A smart Rick with a smart Morty was unheard of. It just didn't happen.

Rick pondered for a bit, before settling on a suitable conclusion. He was in fact, the smartest of all the other Ricks. Of course it meant that he was destined to have a prized Morty to accompany him. One that didn't whine and could learn the things that he could teach. They were the perfect match, regardless of this Morty's current mental state. When he fixed this Morty, they would become unstoppable.

Rick suddenly halted, Morty bumping up against his legs. He glanced around to make sure that they were going in the right direction, before making a quick u-turn into the street. He didn't bother to wait for a walk signal or traffic light, opting to just walk across the busy highway. As they crossed over the curb, Morty gave a startled noise that Rick decided to ignore.

Hover vehicles jerked to a stop or narrowly swerved past the pair. Through this mayhem, Rick didn't pick up his pace, or slow, or even flinch. Halfway across the road, a vehicle came particularly close to reaming them. It was barely able to stop in time, it's bumper inches to Morty's knees – so close that the boy could feel the heat radiating from the engine. His anxiety snapped and he fisted his grandfather's coat, collapsing in a heap of panicked breaths.

A few pedestrians stopped to stare, while Rick just looked down at his grandson. Morty sat on the road, hyperventilating; the pressure finally crushing him. Honestly, Rick had saw it coming before they had even left for the city. The sounds, the people, and a near death experience, were bound to make the boy break down.

Rick gave an unworried sniff as he bent to Morty's level, aliens screaming at him from their cars. He pried the boy's fingers from his coat and lifted him off of the ground, then made it safely to the sidewalk.

Morty couldn't breath. Rick had lifted him from the pavement and carried him to a nearby bench, sitting with him on his lap. The danger was over, he wasn't dead or hurt, but everything fell apart anyways. Morty's head was tilted back, staring into the purple sky. He was gasping for air, unable to get enough. It was all too much! There were too many people, they wanted to hurt him, to do bad things to him.

He had tried so hard to be brave like Rick, like on the other planet with the lakes, but he couldn't. Not when there where so many people to keep track of, so many 'ifs' and 'maybes'! He was going to mess up, to get separated from his grandpa... then they would get him. The edges of his vision darkened and blurred, as he looked to Rick for some help. Rick gave him a blank stare, an uncaring expression on his face.

An-And then they were walking across the street, and the cars were blaring their horns, and moving passed them, and almost hitting them! Then the aliens started to scream at them and stare at them and whisper bad things about them. Morty's gripped Rick's blue shirt, terror engulfing his being. He felt arms wrap around him, pulling him into his grandfather's chest.

Morty heard the steady heartbeat; calm and collected. Unlike his own that was threatening to burst from his rib cage. Rick exhaled, realizing that the boy wasn't going to snap of this on his own. "Lo, look, I need ya, you to listen real good Morty. Ya hear? Reeeeeeeeeeeeeal good." Morty felt the vibrations of the words echoing throughout his body.

"Nu, now Morty... ya, your havin' a panic attack, okay?" There was a brief pause, allowing the words to sink in. "Bu, but it's gonna be fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. I, I need you to breath with me kid. Nice and easy." Morty pressed his face deeper into Rick's chest, "Ju, just copy me, and breath... don't pass out on me Morty." Rick stopped talking, staring down at Morty who was shaking from the lack of oxygen.

Morty was holding on by a thread, clinging to the words like they were a lifeline. He tried to even out his breathing, feeling each long breath Rick took. After a few coughs of exasperation, he felt heat bubble up in his throat. His arms felt as though they were weighted down by led, as he used all of his remaining strength to push away from his grandfather.

It was obvious that Rick wasn't expecting the outburst, as Morty careened backwards off of his lap and onto the pavement. Rick winced as Morty's head hit the cement with a sickening crack. He was just rising off of the bench, when Morty rolled to his hands and knees. For a moment Rick was worried that the kid was having some sort of flashback or an irrational spur-of-the-moment idea; or in laments terms – he was scared that the kid was going to bolt, and that he would have to chase him down in the busy streets of an alien planet. But, the kid didn't jump up to run, he just vomited up everything in his stomach.

Rick groaned an pinched the bridge of his nose. At least the kid stopped with all that hyperventilating bull-crap. Morty heaved a few more times, before settling back on his heels and burying his face in his hands. Rick stared down at him for a while. Now would be a wonderful time to come in like a good grandparent, comfort him and heap on a whole bunch of false promises and ideology on the boy. But Rick never said that he was a good grandparent – hell, he wasn't even a moderate babysitter.

Rick shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed his shoes for an awkward moment of indecision. He felt around his pockets, his hand brushing up against the butt of his laser gun, before settling on his flask. It was something new, the laser gun. After the last disaster of a first outing, he had decided that he needed protection.

It was something that he rarely bothered with before returning to Earth, Rick wasn't one for clogging up his coat with weapons. Sure, he had an entire armory tucked away at the warehouse for emergencies; a collection that would make intergalactic assassins drool, and the Federation's cronies have mild heart attacks.

Rick knew that he could protect himself in a dangerous situation, it was his specialty. Bullshitting his way out of tough spots. He just took the enemies weapon and used them for the time needed. Rick was an amazing fighter, who was not below playing dirty. To Rick, if fighting dirty kept you alive, it was something to be used. Hell, his lack of any and all morality is probably what helped him survive all this time.

On the darker aspect, he may not take weapons with him because of his shaky resolves. Rick did not care if he died. If he was killed, then whoop-de-doo; it was over and he was long gone. But now he had Morty to look after. Unlike the other Ricks, whom could do whatever they damn well pleased; C-124 had responsibilities now. The other's Mortys were fourteen or older, and had a family to fall back on if their Rick died. However, his Morty was a nine-year old with no one.

Rick felt something akin to sympathy, maybe apathy... or even pity. He wasn't really paying attention when Morty finally stumbled to his feet, still caught up in his thoughts. His eyes were still wondering the streets, - the action was partially from his constant paranoia, though mostly due to the fact that he didn't want to face his grandson – when Morty finally decided that he was going to bolt.

Rick paused for a second, his mind not registering what was happening, before lunging after the boy. "Goddammit Morty!"

Yay! Contest Time!

I am hosting a contest for my Iridescent fanfic, so hold on to your seats, cause we're going for a ride!

YOU the reader, will have the opportunity to have your own chapter in this story. You give me a summary or idea and it will become a chapter!

Now all you need to do is send me a PM or write me a review with your unique chapter name and a unique quote. That's it. The winner will get a chapter in my story (insert jazzhands)

RULES:

No jerry chapters

No Summer

No rick/morty porn (seriously he's nine and related)'

This is your chance to literally request anything! A chapter on cute fluffiness, awkward conversations, tragic sobbing heartbreak? IM GAME. So let's get this show on the road!