E Pluribus Unum: "From Many, One"

xxxxx

Morty D15 didn't usually come to the seedier part of Mortytown.

Then again, Morty D15 didn't ever come to other parts of Mortytown, and he definitely never went anywhere with a Rick.

There was something very off about this Rick. (Granted, there was something very "off" about Ricks in general-but this particular Rick was much quieter than usual.)

It made Morty D15 nervous….very nervous.

He almost decided to turn back and sneak off without saying goodbye….

….but there was an unsuppressable urge in his gut to know why this Rick-this particular Rick out of all those Ricks-wanted to talk to him….Did it matter what dimension he came from? Did it matter what Morty this Rick ran into? These and other questions nagged him to no end, pushing him forward, as they continued to walk through the still eerily quiet, but more active part of town.

"Active" was the polite word for "delinquent", as this was the part of town that was in even worse shape than where Morty D15 lived. Mortys here had lost all sense of self-preservation and self-respect, as well as any sense of moral conduct or civility. They ran rampant in the streets, like wild feral animals. Some preferred to attempt survival alone while others ran together in packs, like wolves. It wasn't uncommon in these parts to find Morties attacking other Morties in the streets without remorse, and many Morties were carrying weapons hidden on themselves, and you would never know until it was too late….

Morty shivered and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets. He really detested this part of the town he lived in-was forced to live in, really, because he had no way out of the Citadel….because the only way was by portal gun, or flying ship-as the Citadel existed in a pocket of space which was between dimensions and multiverses….and no Morties were allowed to use a Portal Gun, much less own one themselves (this was simply unheard of).

In all his years living alone, Morty D15 had dreamt of meeting a Rick who could get him out of this state of disrepair and despair. Aside from his general curiosity about this Rick's real motives, this was the real reason he was following this Mystery Rick….and why he didn't turn around to go home, even as they entered a place Morty D15 would never have, in his right mind, on his own set foot in-"The Mortiferum". It was one of the sketchiest places to go as a Morty, and Morty D15 shivered again as all the Mortys inside turned towards the door, as the Rick at his side entered first. Taking a deep breath, Morty stepped forward and followed behind Rick closely.

A Bouncer Morty appeared in front of them without warning, and Morty D15 nearly tripped and fell into Rick; to Morty's relief, Rick seemed not to have noticed and said not a word.

"Coordinates please?" The Bouncer Morty spoke with enough enthusiasm to drive away a crowd on Saturday night; this was clearly the last place he wanted to be, and Morty D15 felt a sharp pang of sympathy that he quickly buried before it could show.

"N/A," Rick replied in an almost equally monotone voice. "Here-take this and let us be for awhile alright?"

Morty D15 watched in amazement as Rick slipped the Bouncer Morty a fifty.

"Rick!" Morty whispered fiercely, "Ricks aren't supposed to-"

"Can it, Morty!" Rick silenced him back just as fiercely (Morty did immediately as he was told; he could see in Rick's eyes that it was in everyone's best interest that he should; even so, he couldn't suppress his amazement at the transaction; no Ricks were allowed to give Mortys money.)

"I-I can't believe it," Morty whispered over and over in amazement.

"Sh-SHUSH!" Rick spoke firmly yet gently as he gave Morty's arm a soft squeeze; he looked seconds away from panicking, his eyes darting around wildly in concern. "D-don't cause a scene!"

They quickly grabbed a booth at the far back of the club.

"Hey…." Morty D15 started to speak, then stopped himself. He suddenly felt very shy and hated it. "Y...you didn't tell me to shut up," he said carefully, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly very self-conscious and aware of every little thing he did. Things were suddenly beginning to feel very claustrophobic. He kept his eyes on the red exit signs above each door. "Usually…." Morty swallowed hard. He didn't like to talk about himself, least of all when it came to how things were with Ricks. "...usually any Rick I'm with is always telling me to shut up-and they-they always scream it in my face….but you….you didn't do any of that...and, and you didn't call me any names…." Not sure how to continue, Morty simply trailed off and let the sentence die there.

They sat in an incredibly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before the Rick cleared his throat awkwardly and loudly, groaning softly to himself as he winced and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Shit...I've made him annoyed already, thought Morty with a flash of panic-but he quickly suppressed the urge to flee, as the look Rick gave him made him pause.

It was a look of sadness, and guilt, and regret.

It was a look Morty D15 had not seen often on any Rick's face, and he wondered what had caused it to be there.

"Look," the Rick said, sounding unbelievably weary as he leaned forward, "I may be a Rick, but not all Ricks are-are the same, you know….? I….." The Rick paused as if to consider something, and Morty's eyes widened further in amazement: was this Rick being introspective?

"I….I don't understand the, the ways some Ricks treat their, their Morties-like like they're expendable, you get tired of one so you find another…." The Rick cleared his throat again and shifted awkwardly in his seat. "They see Morties like you as a possession; a tool, to be used to their satisfaction .and, well, I simply don't agree….because, let's face it," Rick added, suddenly sitting upright, as if he'd come to a sudden conclusion, "if all of the Morties are expendable….then all us Ricks are, too, right? I mean, there are so many dimensions out there in the Multiverse, and-and-if everyone is expendable, than nobody matters, nothing matters….and who, who in their right mind wants to live like that….M-Morty? Shit." Rick stopped as he saw that this Morty's face had grown ashen as he'd continued, only to suddenly drip with tears. "Shit-I-Shit." Rick slumped back, his voice matching his face: crestfallen. "I-I don't know what I said kid, but….I-I didn't mean to-"

"Thank you." It was the only thing that Morty could muster through the frog in his throat. He'd never known any Rick could ever appreciate a Morty, let alone acknowledge that ALL Morties were valuable in their own way….like this Rick just did. It was the greatest gift he'd ever been given. He suddenly realized, he wanted to change….to be better….to be greater….and to live the life he'd always dreamt of….and maybe, just maybe, with this Rick's help, he could.

Suddenly, it didn't matter why this Rick had sought out Morties. Right now, he was sitting with Morty D15, and that was what counted….because HE had been chosen by this Rick, for whatever reason….and that gave Morty hope, because….

….dare he think it….

Maybe this Rick was meant to be his.

TO BE CONTINUED…..(Thanks for reading!) :)