Disclaimer: I don't own Rick and Morty. They belong to Justin Roiland and Dan Harmon.

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you guys SO much for the kind feedback! To the anonymous guest who gave an absolutely WONDERFUL review, thank you! I will definitely work on what you said. :)

Here's chapter 5!

Chapter 5

"Are we ready to squanch this gig?!" Squanchy shouted, spinning a drumstick in his paw.

Rick glanced behind him, seeing his friend on the drums, looking back at him with an expectant smile on his face. "Hell yeah we are!" Rick faced the front, a sea of anonymous faces screaming in anticipation. He leaned forward into the microphone and pulled his fingers through his brown, wavy hair, a sense of exhilaration running through him. "Are you motherfuckers ready?!"

The crowd shrieked, yelling in unison "Flesh Curtains! Flesh Curtains! Flesh Curtains!"

Rick laughed and placed his hands on his guitar, his nimble fingers finding the fret for the first chord of their opening song. He turned his head to make eye contact with Bird Person and Squanchy. "Ready?! One, two, three, go!"

The trio began rocking out, performing one of their original songs, namely "Get Down". As the crowd sang along, Rick felt another sense overcome him- ecstasy. He was only 23, and was already the first organism to travel interdimensionally using the portal gun he had invented a few years earlier, was already travelling the cosmos in a spaceship he invented with his two best friends, and was already a member of one of the galaxy's most successful rock bands.

Yeah, life was good for Rick Sanchez.

The trio finished the song, the last chord echoing around the large room. The audience screamed, wooing and yelling "Flesh Curtains!"

Rick grinned and looked over at Bird Person, who gave a small, warm smile back. His best friend normally seemed to be very stoic; Bird Person's smile made Rick smile even more.

Rick turned back to the front, grabbing the microphone. He brought it up to his mouth. "Who wants to hear more from THE FLESH CURTAINS?!"

The crowd screamed again, and a few pairs of underwear and bras suddenly made their way onto the stage. Rick picked one up and waved it around, before tossing it back onto the ground at his boots. Rick felt that feeling of ecstasy return as they prepared for the next song.

Yeah, life was good.

!

He was drowning, water was filling his lungs, he couldn't breathe, everything was cold and hot and cold, he needed air, he couldn't breathe, couldn't see—

Rick gasped, his eyes flashing open as he tried to breathe. Everything was beginning to come into focus, but he couldn't tell where he was- just a moment ago, wasn't he on stage with his friends?

No.

Rick's sharp mind quickly caught on, remembrance occurring to him almost immediately. He looked around the room, trying to steady his breath and his heartrate. Sweat dribbled down his temple. The room slowly stabilized in his vision; the gray, metal walls returned. With a Gromflomite on each side of him, holding his arms down, Rick made eye contact with the nameless Federation woman standing directly in front of him.

She was holding a clipboard, clearly having just finished jotting some notes down.

"You…were in a band?" She said, a bored tone in her voice. She peered at Rick over her spectacles.

"Yeah, good job Sherlock. And it was a damn good band! I-I got so many ladies back, back in the day!"

The woman pursed her lips, clearly unamused. What a tight-lipped bitch, Rick thought.

"You know," she said, turning to the monitor behind her, which was replaying Rick's memory, "you seem to have been very good friends with Bird Person and Squanchy." She looked back at him, an uninterested look on her face. "It's too bad that they're dead. We would have loved to have interrogated them, too, but," she shrugged, "life's full of little concessions."

That stung a little, but Rick didn't show it. Instead, he rolled his eyes. "Pfft. No shit. Being considered intergalactic terrorists will do that to you." Was Squanchy dead, too?

"Mr. Sanchez, do you know why I am administering this memory serum to you?"

Rick didn't answer. He knew why, but he wasn't about to let them access his mind. He wouldn't allow it. He couldn't. He held too many of the galaxy's secrets. If the Federation had access to how he had created his portal gun, or how to find the Citadel of Ricks, or any information on the rebels, or-well, anything, really- it would change the galaxy in terrible ways.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, that's what I thought; you know why. Now, usually, when we use this memory serum," she said, tapping the syringe with a finger, "it immediately works on the patient. We can literally scroll through all of their most prominent memories, like flipping pages through a book. However, with your mind," she continued, "we have been unable to do so. Your ability to subconsciously block and store away certain memories is astounding, Mr. Sanchez, I will admit. However, we will gain access to your mind, be certain of that."

"Gain access to my mind my ass!" Rick spat. He was tired of this continual cycle; he was too old for this shit. He'd rather just sit in a cell all day back on Earth instead of dealing with these annoyances. Nevertheless, Rick knew she was right. Well, he knew she was right about his ability to store away memories and fight off the serum, so that it only brought up harmless memories, ones that didn't reveal secrets he didn't want the Feds to know.

Suddenly, the door behind Rick and the Gromflomites opened. Another Gromflomite came in and approached the woman, whispering something in her ear. Her face changed, a satisfactory smirk on her lips. The Gromflomite left, the door wooshing closed behind him.

"Put him back on his wall," the woman said to the Gromflomites holding Rick. They did as they were told, dragging Rick back up on his portable cell wall.

"I have news for you, Mr. Sanchez."

"Oh yeah? Wh-what's that? Is it my birthday tomorrow, or something? Has it been a year since I've been 'captured'? Whoopdi-fucking do."

She chuckled. "No. No, your grandchildren-Summer and Morty, yes?- they were caught escaping Earth and were shot down on the planet Dosne, in the Beta 78 System. Your grandchildren are dead, Mr. Sanchez. I'm so sorry for your loss." She smirked, and waved her hand. "Take him away."

Rick felt the blood drain out of his face. "You bitch."

What the fuck?

The robot holding Rick's wall made its way through the hallways, zooming left, right, right, left, left, right.

No. NO.

Left, right, right, left.

How the FUCK did they manage to get off-planet? How did they make it all the way to the Beta 78 System? I cant- they CAN'T be dead.

The robot attached Rick's cell wall to the wall of prisoners, a distinct clicking sound emitting from the placement.

Those fucking idiots—no, this has to be a mind game. The Feds are trying to trick you, Rick. Don't fall for it, you piece of shit. No, they can't actually be dead. My grandkids are not dead, they are NOT dead.

Rick closed his eyes, anger filling his veins, fear gripping his heart.

He wouldn't believe it. He refused.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments/review are greatly appreciated. Next chapter coming soon. Stay Schwifty!