Holy hell. Twelve hours straight of writing this chapter.
Rick reflects on his decisions in this chapter, and character development out the ass.
The last chapter has to be my least favorite, I knew it was going to be before I even started writing it. If you noticed a lot of mistakes or repetition, it was because I couldn't even bring myself to care enough to grammar check it. I can't wait for chapter 12, I'm going to tell everyone in advance that it is my favorite chapter!
Here's QuirkyRevelation's chapter, with Mylovelyshadow's quote! I hope you enjoy ;)
"Hope is the only thing stronger than fear."
Suzanne Collins
The Beacon
Rick sat on the couch, reverse engineering an old alien scanner that he had bought from the dealer that day. It was dark, his only light the lamp that he had moved to the coffee table. He cursed to himself when the device suddenly sparked, before spouting a small flame. Rick blew it out and reached for his fourth bottle of alcohol; the previous three upturned on their sides, occasionally rolling across the table as he shifted.
Crouched over his invention, he idly reached out to turn the knob of a small radio. Light static filled the room as he settled on an appealing channel. Soft rock music, barely above a whisper, lulled him back to concentration. He took a long swig from his bottle.
Rick glanced down at Morty, the cool bottle still held by in his hand by the neck. His grandson was sitting on the floor, his cheek pressing solidly against Rick's leg. He had fallen asleep like this, after hours of watching Rick fiddle with a few different inventions – all of which he quit working on halfway through, as he methodically grew board of each one.
He turned his attention back to the scanner, when Morty let out a pathetic whimper. Rick sighed and unconsciously set the beer bottle down on the table with a clink, letting his free hand fall to run his fingers through his grandson's hair. Morty tensed for a moment before sinking into the touch, his breathing deepening and his body going limp. He fell back into his dreamless sleep, the horrifying nightmares slipping.
For once, Rick felt content; relaxed even. Maybe it was the influx of alcohol on his system after being - what he considered – sober for most of the previous day. He stretched and looked over to the digital clock under the television. It was past one in the morning. It was late, but Rick's insomnia kept him up. That night Morty had refused to leave Rick, sure that his rebellion on the other planet was going to cause his grandfather to abandon him.
Rick grumbled. Well, lets just add abandonment issues to the list of 'Shit-that-fucked-up-his- grandson'. Damn. He took another swig from his bottle, before popping the cap off some vodka. He filled his flask with the heavy liquid and tucked it back in his coat. Rick's foot brushed up against a half solved alien puzzle Morty had left on the rug, and he guessed that his grandson was going to wake up with one hell of a stiff neck from that position.
The puppy Morty had doted on slept in the kitchen, tired out by the journey. It was one of the reasons that Rick had not thrown Morty in bed like usual; he was nervous that the creature would tear the boy's throat out if left alone with him. Tonight he would monitor the damned thing, and if it behaved Rick may allow it live.
Rick rubbed his eyes. When had everything become so complicated? Here he was, nursing beer in a domestic living room with a kid passed out by his shoes, and a deadly yaught hound playing family pet. A few nasty thoughts swept the surface of his mind, bringing him back to self-loathing.
God, his daughter was dead. The little girl who he held in his arms, who laughed at daddy's experiments, who asked endless questions about the skies above. He shakily switched out the beer for the vodka, drowning the agony. She was dead because he left her. He left her and now he would never see her again...
Rick was shocked from his self depreciation by a portal opening in the wall. He was digging in his coat, feeling for the butt of his gun, when Squanchy appeared. The portal snapped shut and Squanchy's eyes shifted around, settling on Rick.
Rick met his eyes and pressed a finger to his lips, pointing to his sleeping grandson. Squanchy cocked his head and made a face, before shrugging and nodding.
Rick leaned back into the couch, tilting his head back towards the ceiling. "Fuck Squanchy, you- you're lucky I'm not trigger happy." He heard Sqaunchy pad across the floor, dropping a bag on the coffee table.
"Got what ya wanted Rick. My old climbing gear." He lifted his head up to catch Squanchy staring at Morty. Squanchy fidgeted a moment, looking like he wanted to say something else. Rick propped his feet up.
"If ya, you got something you wanna say – say it. Uh, I don't like the tension." He waved an arm, and Squanchy gave a look of defeat.
Squanchy rubbed the back of his head. "No use hidin' anything from ya Rick... but it's not something you're gonna wanna hear." Rick snorted, placing his hands behind his head as he leaned back. He heard Squanchy exhale. "I think you're in over your head Rick."
Rick closed his eyes. He did not want to have this conversation right now. "Aren't I always? I mean at best, I-I'm at least knee deep. Ya, you gotta be a little more specific."
Squanchy crossed his arms. "Ya know exactly what I'm talkin about Rick," He stated. Rick's feet immediately slid from the table and he sat upright. Squanchy jerked his head towards Morty.
"From what you've told me, Mortys aren't supposed to be..." He trailed off for a moment. "Like this. He needs someone that can take care of him; someone that'll be there for him." Rick glared, Squanchy held his gaze. "You know, deep down, that you don't handle responsibility well. That this isn't going to end well for either of you."
He glanced back at Morty. "But I'm hedging my bets on this turning out worse for the kid," Squanchy mused.
Rick snatched up his vodka and took a long swig before answering, "Ya, you know I don't like people telling me what I can and can't do Squanchy." The strong alcohol burned his throat, blurring the room and defusing his motor skills. "You know what you're starting to sound like Squanchy? Huh?" He hissed.
"A bureaucrat Squanchy, and you know how much I hate bureaucracy." Rick rolled his shoulders. "Hell, I know how much you hate bureaucracy." He whispered, suddenly aware of how loud his voice was becoming.
Squanchy's tail lashed behind him and he turned to leave. "Don't try to change the subject. This kid's squanched up so bad, you might not be able to fix him – Wait, I know that you won't be able to fix him. If you keep treating him like a shield, there won't be anything left. And if I know you like I think I know you; you'll regret it for the rest of your life." A portal opened up in the wall.
"If you really care about the last remaining member of your family, you'll either let this Morty go," He said coldly, turning his head to look back at Rick. "Or you'll have to change." Squanchy stepped through the portal and it closed quickly behind him.
Rick spent the next hour drinking an entire bottle of vodka, and miraculously staying coherent enough to finish his scanner. A distress beacon sounded out over the intercom. He sighed, and grabbed the bag from the table. Rick's mind was still buzzing pleasantly from the excessive amount of liquor, but all the beer in the world couldn't stop the dread from seeping into his brain.
That's the thing...
I don't know if I can change.
"Morty,OOUUGHH, Morty, wake up." Rick had pulled Morty up from the floor shaking his shoulders. Morty's eyes shot open, just as his grandfather dropped him back to the floor, choosing to make a circle around the couch. He sat up wearily, rubbing his eyes.
Rick made his way back to him, then crouched down to grab his leg. Morty howled as Rick drug him across the hardwood floors, across the kitchen, and into the garage. His head hit the concrete hard when Rick pulled him down the steps. The sound of frantic barks echoed across the house, followed by claws clicking on linoleum. Rick slammed the door shut before his puppy could come to the rescue.
Rick let go of his leg and stumbled over to the spaceship he'd been building over the past ten days. He popped a panel open and began working on the motor, swaying back and forth as if he were on the verge of blacking out. He took his flask from his pocket and took a pull. The garage door was open, the night sky peeking in. Light from the interior spilling into the driveway, as Rick fiddled around in the ship.
A bag was strapped to his Grandfather's back, and Morty wondered what was in it.
Rick slammed the hood shut after making some final adjustments, turning back towards his grandson. Morty stood in the doorway dark circles ringing his eyes. He beckoned him over, and pulled the passenger side door open. Rick lifted Morty up into the seat and buckled him inside, noting that the boy should probably have a booster seat. This was going to be their first outing in the ship, he hoped the kid wasn't prone to car sickness.
Rick bent down to Morty's level, nearly toppling over from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. "H-Hey Morty, gOOUUGHHuess what? We got ourselves a distress beacon! Woo yeah OOUUGHH! It's time fu, for you and your grandpa to gOOUUGHH out and get some free shiiiiit."
Morty remained silent and eyed Rick with curiosity, wondering why his grandfather was so excited. Rick looks mildly put out. "I, I'ma need ya, you to act a little excited here, Morty."
Rick shut the door and took his seat on the driver's side, the world spinning a little more than usual.
They zoomed through the vacuum of space, the ship occasionally tipping to the side and swaying precariously. Rick was much too drunk to be steering, probably even too drunk to walk straight. That never stopped him though, more often than not opting to fly drunk. Morty was pressed to the window, wonder lighting in his eyes.
It was a rare thing for Morty to show anything other than passive acceptance, fear, and anxiety. Hell, the only time he had even shown anger was when Rick refused to let the kid take the alien dog home. It was depressing to see a nine year old so broken.
He also had't spoken since they left the city. Rick gripped the steering wheel, coughing to get Morty's attention. He spun around, hands still planted on the window; anxiety tearing the previous excitement away. The ship tipped dangeously, Rick barely registering the movement before righting it. He was way too drunk.
Morty was still waiting for a response, eyes flickering across the dash and back to the sky. "So, Morty. This," He gestured to the space surrounding them. "Is space Morty. Space." He paused and watched Morty process the word, his brow furrowing from nervousness. "Ca, can you say spaaaace Morty?" He drew out the word, emphasizing each letter.
Morty blinked and turned to stare back out into the vast expanse. Nothing. "Not one for conversation are ya, you Morty?" It was a blank question that he knew he wasn't going to get a response to. "Well then, you, you'll be less of a pain in my ass in the long haul." It was an angry comment, full of spite. It must have been a fluke.
Something that had stirred in Rick, a determination – a drive that he had not felt in years. Hope was a funny thing; a waste of time and energy for people who couldn't give in to the reality of their situation. Rick was rational, a man who valued science over feeling. But that didn't stop him from trying out different words for over an hour, trying to get his grandson to speak again.
Rick pointed out planets, galaxies, and whatever else came within sight. What would it be like to have feedback on all of his thoughts? All of the things that he did? Even the bad things. To have someone he could fight with, who could argue with him. Someone to share the universe with, the loneliness. He would give it all just to have someone to understand him... to care.
The distressed ship came into the radar after nearly two hours of travel. Morty was dosing in his seat, trying to appear like he had been paying attention to Rick's radical explanations. Rick steered them to the port of the ship that had been left halfway open, landing in the belly of the vehicle. A few thoughts skimmed the surface before he could get his flask out.
Can I really change?
I don't want to die alone.
"Co, come on Morty. We gotta get through all this shit before someone shows up," he said on an offhanded note. Morty stood a few feet from him, wringing his hands and doing his best impression of a terrified bunny. Rick crooked his finger, motioning Morty over. Morty approached hesitantly, flinching away when Rick crouched down to him.
Rick piched the bridge of his nose. Great, he was in one of his 'flight or fight' moods. He almost preferred the 'clingy' mood to this. "Lo, look Morty. We've been over this, like a thousand times in the past ten days. I, if I wanted to hurt you, you'd be hurt by now," his voice was more tired than irritated.
Rick reached into his coat, feeling around all of the different pockets, and finding the cold bottle he had tucked in there before they had left. He pulled Morty's sports bottle from his jacket, still cold from the ice he had dropped in. They had mostly dissolved over the course of two hours, making the milk watery enough to assure the mixture was not going to be too heavy on the kid's stomach.
He shoved it in Morty's hands, wrapping the boy's fingers tightly around the bottle. "Now stay still," he ordered.
Rick dropped the duffel bag from his back, quickly unzipping it and retrieving the old climbing gear from the bottom. He tugged Morty towards him and fitted Squanchy's old safety harness around him, Morty trembling and clutching the bottle the entire time. Rick had to adjust a few straps for it to grip properly, snapping the buckle in place and attaching a safety cord to the small metal loop in the front.
Rick gave an experimental tug on the makeshift leash, and it snapped taut without breaking. Deeming it durable, Rick snatched an aluminum climbing clip from the bag. He clipped the carabiner to the other end of the cord, which he promptly hooked to his belt. Morty gave him a confused look, messing with the cap of his bottle.
He huffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah, well you obviously can't be trusted not to land our asses in hot water. So until I determine that you're not gonna ru, run off like a little bitch, ya, you're stuck with me. Literally." Rick decided, yanking the cord for emphasis.
Morty had quickly lost interest halfway through the conversation, managing to unscrew the cap from his bottle. He was now taking large gulps of the liquid, and Rick rushed to grab the drink from Morty's hands. "Goddammit Morty! You're gonna make ya, yourself sick."
Morty growled when Rick took the bottle from him, jumping to try and liberate it from his grandfather. Rick screwed the cap back on – tightly - and handed it back to the kid. "Du, Don't you growl at me you little fucker," he hissed under his breath.
The interior of the ship was black, bright green lines shone along the walls. They cast a dim light on the belly of the vehicle. Shiny metal boxes were neatly stacked along the walls, pointing to this abandoned ship being a cargo carrier. It must have broken down or run out of fuel before reaching it's destination.
It was rather dark, and Rick listened closely while he opened container after container. There was indeed, some 'good shit ' lined up in the boxes. Power cells, weapons, parts that could be the basis of a myriad of new inventions. Rick filled his duffel bag with various items, mentally cataloging what different things he intended to make with them.
The thought of new scientific breakthroughs made him somewhat giddy. Rick anticipated the high that he would get from expanding his knowledge. Creating something new from scratch always fed his intellectual needs. What he did not look forward to, was the crash that would inevitably come after he completed these new inventions.
It always came when he hit a road block or finished up whatever kept his mind off of the futility of his work. The meaninglessness of it all. He took a pull from his flask, unintentionally moving farther into the bowels of the ship. Morty kept up, fearing that if he slowed down, Rick would drag him along. They crossed into another holding bay, and Rick pointed out some escape pods, explaining their purpose.
"See those Morty. Those are escape pods," he gestured to an empty slot. "They probably launched out on that one when they realized that the ship was fucked. Leavin us all this free shit, ripe for the picking." Morty moved to a row of yellow levers, and Rick yanked him back by the cord.
"Don't touch Morty. Tho, those'll launch the pods. Don't wanna draw any attention to ourselves." Rick marched up some stairs, and Morty scrambled to keep pace with his long strides.
Rick was on his knees, searching through another box of materials, when he felt Morty tug on his sleeve. He rolled his eyes and glanced over at Morty, his eyes zoning in on a metal crescent in the boy's hands. A universal holo-map. Not valuable in the least. Morty held it out to him, and Rick decided to humor him.
Taking the device from Morty's hands, he popped the back and stared into the wiring. A blue wire was out of place, all bendy and disconnected from it's circuit board. It was an easy fix, but he didn't really care enough to waste his time repairing it. Wasn't worth his valuable time. He threw the device back over his shoulder, and it bounced across the floor with metallic clangs.
Morty squeaked, and rushed to pick up the discarded holo-map. Rick felt the cord tug at his belt as Morty strained to reach his find. He guessed that it fell within Morty's radius, because the straining abruptly ceased after a few moments. Rick twisted his legs, adjusting himself to a comfortable sitting position. Morty did not bring the device back to Rick, in fear it would be tossed away again.
Minutes passed in silence, other than the rhythmic sounds of the ships air filtering and Rick digging around in the containers. Rick was just standing up, when a bright blue light flared behind him. He spun, expecting an ambush.
Rick's eyes widened only a fraction, barely noticeable, his hands finding their way into his pockets. The holo-map was functioning, projecting a planet swallowed by stars. Morty stood staring into the hologram, a smile plastered on his face and a screwdriver held loosely in one hand. Rick walked up to stand beside him, his mind whirring with hidden elation.
His grandson had fixed an alien machine, – a machine he had never seen before – on his first try. Morty looked up at Rick, pure happiness evident on his features. His eyes begged for approval, for praise. Practically starving for it. Rick could have given it to him, but he wasn't that kind of person. Instead he ran his hand through Morty's hair, ruffling it. It was more than enough for Morty, who was currently beaming from the accomplishment.
Rick felt a sudden thickness in his throat, making it hard to swallow. He quickly redirected the mood, tearing the screwdriver from Morty's hand and grumbling to himself. "Damned pickpocket." He pointed to Morty with the screwdriver. "Don't fuck with my shit Morty," Rick cursed.
The entire ship rocked. "Shit," Rick exclaimed, his hand encircling Morty's wrist. "Fuck Morty! I, it's the Galactic Federation! I knew it, I fucking knew that this had to be one of their cargo units."
Rick quickly strapped hid duffel bag to his body, pulling Morty behind him as he ran. He ducked behind a doorway, spotting the first of the bug-like soldiers sent to commandeer the vessel. Rick lifted Morty off of the floor, slamming a hand over his mouth. The aliens passed by searching the hold. He prayed to whatever God he could think of, that they did not find his ship.
Rick felt Morty's body spasm from the physical contact, clutching the boy even closer to his chest. The aliens passed by without incidents, and Rick slid passed the doorway, guiding Morty with the makeshift leash. Rick berated himself as they stalked towards the opening where he had parked the ship.
He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up real bad. Great way to prove your responsible, RIGHT after Squanchy's conversation. Off the bat he had gotten blackout drunk, then in his desperate attempt to escape reality, he'd forgotten to charge his portal gun, and finally – the icing on the cake – he'd left his ship unattended to sift through junk he didn't really need. All to avoid the thought that Morty was better off without him. Squanchy was right, Rick Sanchez could never change.
They moved pass a few more guards, Morty picking up on the severity of the situation. Morty was terrified, clinging to him. Seeing his fearless grandfather scared had nearly petrified him. Rounding another corner, Rick spotted the ship. It hadn't been found yet.
Rick sprinted towards the ship, just a few meters between them, when his hips were pulled back violently. He toppled face first into the unforgiving floor, lifting himself up with his hands. Morty was coughing brokenly, gasping for air on the ground behind him. Shit! He had forgotten the kid was tethered to him.
"Stop, or we will shoot!" The police's voices rose, the sound of feet rushing to their location deafening.
Morty jumped up as two officers entered the brig. He stared wide eyed at the creatures, when a laser mowed the first down. His chest exploded, black blood splattering Morty. The boy became paralyzed with terror. He looked down at the body, blood pooling at his red rain boots.
Tears lazily dripped down his cheeks, as he turned to face his grandfather with horrified realization. Rick lowered his laser gun, and time stopped. "Mm, Morty, uh, I didn't mean for you to see-" He was cut off by Morty closing the distance between them and throwing himself around his grandfather's midsection, sobbing.
There was no time to comfort him now. The second alien shot and them, and Rick returned fire. Rick curled over Morty's body, and rolled them behind a pillar. The alien took cover behind Rick's ship, reaching for his radio to call backup. Rick had leaned past the barrier, aiming his gun at the officer; when he felt his belt shift, the light weight of the cord missing.
He reared back behind the pillar, his fingers grasping empty air as Morty bolted into the crossfire. "Morty! No!"
Morty ran faster than he had ever run, his eyes locked on the yellow levers on the far side of the brig. Rick's voice echoed through his head, and he reached up to rub some of the alien blood off of his face. 'See those Morty. Those are escape pods,'. A red beam nearly grazed his arm, heat flaring up along his skin.
'Don't touch Morty. Tho, those'll launch the pods. Don't wanna draw any attention to ourselves.' The leash whipped behind him like a tail, the metal clip clattering along the metal floor. Drawing attention. That was what he was counting on. Morty heard the splattering of the alien's head being obliterated before he even saw it.
It didn't stop him, he came up on a lever, using both shaky arms to force it down.
The alien's body collapsed on the ground with a sickening splat. Rick rubbed the sweat from his brow, hearing dozens of footfalls as the brigade made way to their location. "I think I heard something over there!" Rick's heart thudded against his ribs.
Suddenly, the ship trembled as an escape pod shot from the cargo bay, air depressurizing. "They're getting away! Back to the ships!" Rick let out a panicked breath, sliding down the pillar and on to his ass. He was shaking from the adrenaline, when he turned his head to look over to the opposite wall. Morty stood there, his whole body wracking with spasms. His hands gripping an escape lever like a lifeline, legs buckling.
He was absolutely petrified. Another wonderful experience to add to his nightmares. Rick stood, downing the contents of his flask, cause to hell if he needed to be sober right now. He was too stunned to be angry as he walked across the platform. It dawned on him, and he paused.
Morty had knew that there were more than two of them on the ship. After the first shot Morty had hugged him – not from fear, because if he was truly abhorred by Rick's actions, he would have logically run away from the murderer. He had hugged him to unhook the clip from Rick's belt, so that he could launch the escape pod, to lure them away from their location.
Rick pried Morty's fingers from the lever, and he began to sob loudly, the gravity of the events finally crashing down on him. A shiny piece of metal stuck out from Morty's pocket, and Rick took a double take. Ah, the holo-map. He lifted Morty up and the boy immediately wrapped his arms around Rick's neck, crying into his shirt.
Rick only stopped to throw the duffel bag in the back seat, cradling Morty in his lap the entire way home. He tried to console him with soothing nonsense, even going as far to hum a few of his old songs. Morty eventually fell asleep, never letting go of Rick's neck.
He was in over his head.
It would be for the best to let Morty go.
But he wouldn't, because he was a selfish bastard.
Because he was too scared of being alone...
Morty was scared of being alone too. He swore to himself that he would never, ever let Rick leave him. He knew it was selfish; that he was dirty for thinking this way, but he wanted to be loved. He pressed deeper into the warmth, the ship rocking under them. Even if Rick was better off without him.
Morty fell asleep to the vibrations thrumming in Rick's chest, as he hummed an old tune of happier days gone by.
An anonymous reader from Tumblr asked for fic recommendations. My favorite fics include Mystery Twins by Lizzy322, Its a Gravity Falls fic, but I highly recommend it. Takes One to Know One by Foxieglove, an X-men fic that is unfortunately abandoned. And First for Everything by Kitty9, a Rick and Morty fic. My all time favorite is Mystery Twins though, If you really like this story I urge you to try it. The author has a writing style extremely similar to mine, and the story is a fluffy mess about two abused kids finding a home with two awkward old men. More dialogue than I use though, but I luvz the dialogue.
Speaking of fics, Shadow the strange weasel wrote a spin-off of my story! Go check it out! It's called Agent C-124. If anyone else wants to write spin-offs, feel free to do so! Just send me the link so I can squeal happily to myself ;)
Please send me reviews and ideas! It keeps me going! I read through all of them and reply to any questions or suggestions.