Rick had continued working on his project well into the night before he finally decided that the best thing for it might be for him to take a break. He yawned and leaned back in his chair before looking at the watch around his wrist. It was 3am. He wheeled his chair away from his desk and stood before heading towards the kitchen. He passed through the living room and was a bit surprised to see the tv was on. He shrugged and made his way into the kitchen only to stop when he realized he wasn't alone. Morty was standing in the kitchen, leaned against the sink and starring out the window. Only the light of the moon illuminated his features and he didn't seem to notice that Rick was there. Rick starred at him for a long moment, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence. He looked so much older. Rick remembered the annoying little kid that used to complain on every adventure. Now their adventures were over and Rick couldn't say he missed it. Morty had grown so much that he was barely recognizable from the memories. Puberty had given him a straight jaw and high cheek bones and his once, unruly brown hair had seemed to find its place on Morty's head. Rick realized in that moment, that Morty had become quite beautiful. He shook the thought away quickly and cleared his throat. Morty startled slightly and turned his attention towards him. Rick slowly took his eyes off Morty and made his way to the fridge. He opened it and bent down to glance inside. "What are you doing up?" he said over his shoulder as he shifted through the fridge looking for something to eat. For a moment, Morty didn't say anything. "I- I can't sleep…" he replied quietly. Rick reached into the fridge and grabbed a beer before closing the door. He looked back over at Morty who had just been starring at him silently. He seemed to realize he was starring after a moment and then turned away from Rick to grab a cup out of one of the cupboards. As he reached up Rick noticed that his knuckles and wrist were wrapped up in a bloody bandage. Without thinking, he placed his beer on the counter and reached forward grabbing Morty's wrist and pulling him forward. "R- Rick, stop!" Morty exclaimed and tried to pull away but Rick only pulled him closer. Without a word he unwrapped the bandage from around Morty's knuckles and a quiet growl escaped him at what he saw. "What the hell did you do to yourself?" he snarled and Morty flinched before he ripped his hand out of Rick's grasp and held it against his chest protectively. "I-I-I slipped…" he stuttered. Rick felt his chest squeeze in pain. Bull shit, you slipped! He thought with a low growl. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling and turning on his heel. "Come on." He called over his shoulder and started back toward the garage. Morty hesitated for a moment but then sighed and slowly followed Rick. Rick gestured for Morty to take a seat as he searched through his cabinets for some fresh bandages and other supplies. When he turned around Morty was staring at him with his hand still clenched to his chest. Rick sighed and pulled up a chair to sit in front of Morty. He reached forward and gently took Morty's hand into his own. He was silent as he worked cleaning the deep gashes across Morty's knuckles. He winced as Rick spread some antibacterial cream across the wounds. Rick glanced up at him through his eyelashes and then back down at his hand. "Sorry…" he muttered and furrowed his eyebrows when Morty let out a pained bark of laughter. "Rick Sanchez is apologizing. Never thought I'd hear that in my life time." He said sarcastically. Rick paused his movements and looked up at Morty. Morty met his gaze unwaveringly. "Yeah well I don't say it often so take it as it comes…" he grumbled and then grabbed a syringe off his desk. He flicked the tip of the needle with his fingers and then moved to inject it into Morty's hand. "This might sting." He said and then injected the anesthesia into Morty's knuckles. Morty hissed in pain but said nothing and held still. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. "I can take care of myself Rick. You don't have to do this…" he said quietly and this time there wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He just sounded sad and reserved. Rick stopped his motions and looked up at Morty. "Right cause you're gonna be able to stitch these up by yourself, right?" he replied sarcastically and Morty looked away.
"So-so- sorry, forget I- I said anyth-." He began but Rick interrupted him. "The least, I can do is this Morty…" he said quickly and Morty's face contorted into anger for the second time that day. "St-stop it Rick! I don't need you're pity or your guilt!" he exclaimed and Rick froze. For a moment, there was genuine fury on his face. "Yo- you think this is because of pity Morty? I-It's much much more than that! I should have been there! I should have gotten to you faster. It was my fault Morty. You have no idea how- how hard it's been for m-me to see you l-like this! To- to see the only thing I-I care about-." He blurted out and then instantly regretted how much he had revealed in saying so. For a moment, Morty felt a spark of hope alight inside him. What did Rick mean by that? It was common knowledge to everyone that Rick didn't care about much and if he did care about something, he would never admit it out loud but he'd admitted that he cared about Morty. But in what way? Morty asked himself. Was it possible that Rick cared for him in the same way that Morty cared for Rick.
Rick stammered stupidly for a moment and then tried to spin the statement around by saying, "I-I mean, you're my grandson and whether I like it or not I have to care."
Oh.
So that's all it was. As quickly as it had ignited, the flame of hope went out inside his chest. Morty has never felt so tired in his life. He closed his eyes and leaned back in Rick's swivel chair to let his head rest over the back of it. He starred up at the ceiling and blinked away the tears that had suddenly appeared at the corner of his eyes. "Yeah….yeah of course Rick…" he mumbled.
Rick's heart squeezed painfully once again in his chest as he watched Morty's face change from some sort of hope to complete dejection. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He thought to himself and clenched the fist of the hand that wasn't holding Morty's so hard he could feel the skin break under his nails. How could he do this? How could he break the boy even more than he already had been, but what could he do? He couldn't admit that he did care. That he cared so much that it hurt. He couldn't tell Morty that he was his whole world, and that it felt like his breath was being wrenched from his chest every time he saw how much of a toll all of this had taken on him. He couldn't tell him because not only was it sick, and selfish for him to have these feelings, but also because it was dangerous. Everything he touched burned down to the ground eventually and Morty? He was too young, too important to Rick too go down in that fire with him. Rick had already burnt him enough. He couldn't do it again. So, he pushed the feelings to the back of his brain and tried his best to move on.
Morty didn't say a word or even flinch when Rick began to stitch some of the deeper gashes up on his knuckles. He was being more gentle than he ever had been with anyone but he knew it still had to hurt from his own experience of stitching himself back together over and over again. When he finally finished, he wrapped the boy's hand up properly with a fresh bandage and then wheeled his chair over to his desk once again. He reached into the mini fridge that sat to the left of it and pushed past a bottle of whisky to grab a vile of something light blue. He then proceeded to stab the new syringe into the top of it before pulling up on the stopper to fill the syringe. Morty slowly lifted his head from where it had been resting on the back of the chair and looked up at him. "Are you done?" he asked hoarsely. Rick wheeled back over to him and without hesitation, lifted Morty's sleeve and injected what was in the syringe straight into his arm. Morty jumped slightly and looked at Rick with an expression of panic on his face. "Wha-what the hell was that?" he asked but Rick had turned his back to him and was putting away all his things. "You need to sleep Morty." He replied quietly. Morty looked down at his arm and then up at Rick once again. "Wha-what do you- what did you do Rick?" He stammered and tried to get up but his legs had suddenly become very weak and he collapsed back into his chair. "Woah- careful there." Rick said and put his hands on Morty's shoulders. "You need sleep Morty. Don't worry I'll watch ove-urp-over you." He said. Morty tried to fight back, tried to tell Rick he didn't need sleep, that he was afraid of it but suddenly speaking seemed to take way too much energy and before he knew it his eyes were drifting shut as he spiraled into darkness.
Rick watched as Morty's face morphed from anger, to panic, and then finally into restful sleep. He knew Morty would be pissed when he woke up but if he had continued on without sleeping he would have seriously damaged his health more than he already had. As soon as Morty fell asleep, Rick slipped his left arm under his knees and his right arm around his shoulders and lifted him from his chair. He felt a pang of guilt at how light the boy had become. He should have been trying harder to help but he just couldn't get through the thought that he should be doing more but it was hard to push past his instinct to leave it alone. He carried Morty over to a blank wall in the corner of the garage and tapped on a side panel twice. There was a whirring sound and the wall slid aside to reveal a small room. It was dimly lit and contained only a twin sized mattress in one corner, a night stand and a small recliner with a lamp next to it in the other corner. He made his way to the bed and laid Morty down gently before pulling the covers up around his shoulders. For a moment, he paused and took in the sight of Morty sleeping soundly.
He looked so peaceful. Rick reached forward and smoothed his bangs away from his face gently before cupping his cheek in his hand. "I'm sorry Morty… I should have never taken you that day…." He mumbled and suddenly his mind was transported back to the memory of it. He'd convinced Morty to go on a new adventure with him to a planet that was full of alien casinos and K-lax crystals. "C-Come o-on Morty! Let-Let's go on an adventure!" he'd said as he swung open Morty's door to find him doing homework quietly at his desk.
"Gee-geez Rick I don't know…I-I've got a lot of homework to-to do and I-." Rick cut him off by waving a hand at him dismissively and grabbing him by the back of his shirt collar. "Qui-quit bein a lo-urp-loser Morty. You know what I-I think about school." He exclaimed and began dragging him out of his bedroom door. A few moments later they were sitting in a smoke-filled casino room, playing some form of alien black jack. Rick was doing a line of k-lax off the table while Morty sat next to him fidgeting nervously with his cards. "Ri-Rick, I- I don't even know how to-to play this." Morty stuttered looking down at the cards in his hands which had a set of strange alien numbers on them. Rick suddenly through an arm around his shoulders and laughed loudly. "Calm your tit-tits Morty!" he joked and then leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "There's no-no way you can lose." When he pulled away he gave Morty a wink. Morty took a deep breath and glanced around the table nervously. They were playing with a few other species of alien. Some he recognized but some he didn't. One figure in particular had been eyeing them strangely since they arrived and Morty shivered at the look he gave him. He was a tall muscular alien with purple skin and long claws on each three-fingered hand. His eyes were two purple slits in his head and he had long pointed fangs that stuck out of his mouth. Morty cleared his throat nervously and tried to ignore him.
As the night continued, Rick had won four games and was racking up quite a bit of money when one of the aliens across the table stood up suddenly and slammed his hands down on the table. "You're cheating!" He exclaimed in a deep voice. The atmosphere suddenly changed drastically and everyone stilled. Rick turned to face the alien from where he had been flirting with a strange alien waitress. "Is that what yo-urp-you say when you realize you're losing Flimbark?" he said with a chuckle, apparently unaffected by the rage on the alien's face.
"Bull shit, Sanchez! You've rigged the game!" he snarled and started to reach into the side pocket of his coat. Before he could move another inch, Rick whipped out a laser gun from his coat and shot the alien between the eyes. The casino erupted into chaos in less than a blink of an eye. "Run Morty!" he yelled out and took off in the direction of the ship. Morty Didn't hesitate to jump to his feet and follow him. This wasn't the first time this had happened after all. He was only a few steps behind Rick when suddenly an arm snaked out and grabbed him around the waist. Rick heard a strangled cry and whipped around to see Morty with a gun pointed to his head being held against an alien's chest. It was the quiet purple alien that had been eyeing them all night. His stomach dropped and bile rose up in his throat. Without hesitation, he lifted his laser gun and pointed it at the alien, intending to shoot to kill but before he could pull the trigger, they disappeared in a flash of green light. For a moment, he was frozen in shock and by the time he began to realize the gravity of the situation, it was too late. He was being cornered on all sides by the casino's security. All he could do in the moment was pull out his portal gun and portal away.
Rick shook the memory from his mind with a snarl. There was no point in thinking about it when Morty was safe with him now. He looked back down at the boy and felt his heart twist painfully in his chest. Sure, Morty was back home, but he was far from safe and Rick knew it.
