10.
Rick emerged into the garage from the portal. He let out a long sigh. God, I need a drink. He walked up the stairs, fatigue pulling at his eyelids. Usually, Rick would be awake and alert after an adventure gone awry, but this time was different somehow. He shuffled into his room and scanned it for any alcohol. Geez, Beth must've cleaned my room again… It was uncommon, but once in a while Beth would tidy up Rick's room. It was nice to come home to a clean house, but the downside was she moved around a lot of Rick's stuff in the process. There were countless times when he couldn't find a tiny screw or a flathead screwdriver. After a bit more searching, Rick recovered a bottle of jack from under his bed. Finally, he collapsed on his bed.
"Uhm…R-Rick?" a tiny voice muttered. Fuuuuccccckkkk…
"What, Morty?" Rick growled.
"Where did you go?" Morty asked. He leaned against the doorframe, staring at his grandfather with concern in his eyes.
"Doesn't matter," Rick replied, taking a gulp from the bottle. Morty looked at his feet.
"It wouldn't if you knew how to go somewhere and n-n-not get in trouble…" Morty muttered. Rick acted like he didn't hear him. Giving up, Morty closed the door as slowly as possible, causing it to creak loudly.
Morty leaned against the wall of his room. He let out a heavy sigh, combing his fingers through his curly, brown hair. Morty was used to being pushed to the side, but it began to eat at him. Nobody exists on purpose… Sure, he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, or he wasn't very bold, but that didn't mean he had to always be the one following. Everybody's going to die.
END.
Thanks so much for following this story all the way through! I will write additional chapters, or even a sequel starring Antoinette if anyone wants it to happen. If so, please message me or include it in a review! :) Again, thanks for the support!