Chapter 14

A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot! It's nice having the gang back together. I hope you enjoy!

Morty hadn't seen his grandfather for an entire year. He watched him carefully as he stepped off of the Federation ship.

Rick looked much worse than the last time Morty had seen him, back on that tiny planet. He had a haggard look to him; his bluish-gray hair was even more wild and unkempt, with his face bruised and laced with emotional and physical pain. Rick's natural lankiness was now reduced to an unnatural bony state, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. His orange jumpsuit was stained with blood on the right shoulder and abdomen, where, Morty noticed, Rick held his hand tightly to a clearly fresh wound.

And yet, even though his grandfather looked terrible, he still had that familiar wild glint in his eye.

The rebel fleet had returned, and now about sixty or so rebels stood together, amassed in a circle around Rick, Morty, and Summer's ships. Applause, whoops, and hollers erupted as Rick staggered out of the Federation ship.

Morty and Summer ran to him, taking quick steps before throwing their arms around their grandfather.

Rick laid a light hand on both of them while his other hand held tight to his wound. "Yeah, yeah, it's great to see you too, family reunion, blah blah blah, but I really need a drink."

Neither Summer nor Morty could keep tears from sliding down their cheeks. They had both fought so hard to get their grandfather back, and here he was. Morty felt compelled to say something, yet he couldn't come up with the words. He had waited a whole year, and yet his brain was failing him.

His sister, on the other hand, was able to coherently put her thoughts into words. "Grandpa Rick, we've missed you so much, you wouldn't even believe what we've been through—" Summer began, though her eyes slid down to Rick's tightly pressed hand, stained with blood. "But, oh my God, you need a doctor—"

Rick waved her off, though a short wave of lightheadedness and pain hit him. "I-it's fine, Summer, shit—Adalric? Is that you?" The broad-shouldered image of a lizard-like humanoid creature came sauntering up to the trio.

"Sanchez…it's nice to see you, man." Adalric clapped a firm hand on Rick's back, though his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Damn, the Fed's get you?"

Rick let out a cynical laugh. "Yep. Lucky they didn't kill me."

Adalric nodded. "Can't wait to hear the whole story of how you got out. It's never been done before, but I guess you've done a lot of things that have never been done before, eh?" He looked back down at Rick's wound. "I'll go get Dr. Zenon. He still has-"

"Wait, Dr. Z is still alive?!" Rick said in surprise. "Damn! Yeah, just tell him to bring the healing antidote shit I made for him, years back." Rick gently pulled his hand away from his wound as another pulsation of blood oozed out. "Fuck," he murmured, putting a hand on Morty's shoulder for balance as Adalric sauntered away in search of Dr. Zenon.

"Rick," Morty began, "i-it's…I'm sure glad you're alive."

"Yeah, me too buddy," Rick said shortly, not looking at his grandson. "Let me just tell you both that intergalactic prison sucks real, real bad. Like, unbelievably bad. You don't want to get yourselves caught up in there." Rick warned them both.

Adalric quickly came back, Dr. Zenon skittering behind him as he sought to keep up with the much larger creature.

"Sanchez, you don't know how great it is to see you alive!" Dr. Zenon said as he came up to them, hands holding the purplish-liquid and a dropper.

"Same to you, Dr. Z. Here, I can do it," Rick said refusing Dr. Zenon's offer and instead deciding to treat himself. Taking the dropper, Rick squeezed three drops of the liquid onto the open wound, hissing as the hot pain sizzled on the injury. "There," he said through clenched teeth. "Now, I'm going to go find out where you guys keep the—SQUANCHY?!"

"RICK SANCHEZ!" The cat-like creature darted towards Rick, jumping on top of him in an embracing brotherly hug. "Man, it has been squanchin' too long! You don't look so hot!"

Rick laughed. "Look who's talkin', you ugly cat."

Ignoring the jest, Squanchy jumped off of Rick and back onto the ground, looking up at Rick, Morty, and Summer, smiling. "I knew you'd get out, one way or another."

"I had it under control. I was never planning on staying there for long." Rick let out a short sigh through his nose. He felt his fingers instinctually twitch for his flask, though he knew that he didn't have one on him. He regretted not searching for his stuff after he escaped; he had had his flask (and other small inventions) in his labcoat, but now it was gone in Federation custody, as it had been for the past year. His throat itched for alcohol and food. "Alright, someone show me where I can get a drink, or I'm going to go batshit crazy."

Adalric laughed. "Here, everyone, let's go to the tavern."

Rick, Squanchy, Adalric, Morty, and Summer walked together over to the local tavern, though Morty refused the alcohol and asked only for water.

The group spent the next few hours in rejoice over Rick's escape and their rescue of him. Morty and Summer told their story, of how they had crash-landed on the desert planet before running into Adalric, who took them to Meria, and how Morty had found Rick's first portal gun.

Rick laughed. "Oh shit! That old thing?! Man, I haven't seen that in years! Didn't even know it would still work." Rick pondered for a moment, memories flashing through his mind. "Yeah, that was a total prototype. First one I made that actually worked." He grinned. "It only worked because I was a total dumbass before I finally did the equation right. Heh." An image of Bird Person flashed through Rick's mind before he pushed it away.

With a drink in his hand and his mind painlessly numb (how long had it been since he had been properly and mercilessly drunk?), Rick felt himself relax enough to tell the story of his great escape from Federation prison, though he omitted the points about the Federation woman and the pain she had put him through. Rick's hand clenched tighter around his drink at the thought of her.

"So you're telling me that they didn't try and get information out of you?" Adalric asked.

"Wha-EUGH-t I'm telling you is that there's no fucking w-EUGH-way I would have told them jack shit," Rick drunkenly retorted, slamming his fist down on the table. "I had the who-o-o-le thing under control."

"Mhm," Adalric responded with an air of amused incredulity.

"You know, Grandpa Rick, without us, you probably would have been killed," Summer said with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow.

"Summer, your need for recognition and acceptance is getting annoying." He took another sip. "But, uh—nice flying with my ship. But I don't ever want to see you piloting my ship again."

Summer smirked.

Rick downed the rest of his drink, suddenly feeling the need to be alone. He got to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "This has been fun n' all, but I gotta hit the hay. You got a bed around here I can use?" He said, turning to Adalric.

"I think there's a spare room across from your grandchildren's room, in the bunker building," Adalric said.

Morty and Summer stood up too, standing on either side of their grandfather. Saying their goodbyes, the trio made the short trek to the bunkers, where Morty and Summer had been staying for the past—how long had it been?, Morty wondered to himself, the thought of his parents crossing his mind.

The trio bade each other a goodnight before dispersing, Morty and Summer going into their room and Rick going into his. Finding a spare white shirt and brown pants in his room, Rick peeled the orange jumpsuit off of his body, finally free of it after a year. He stood, naked, feeling the rough fabric between his fingers, staring with a furrowed brow at the bloodstains that caked it. He moved his gaze to the stitched name on the jumpsuit.

RICK SANCHEZ.

Rick tossed the jumpsuit into the corner, determined to burn it tomorrow. Through the buzzed haze of alcohol, Rick stumbled into clothes and collapsed on the bed, rolling onto his back.

Though his body ached and his brain was tired, he could not find the willpower to close his eyes. He lay, staring up at the dark ceiling, thoughts worming their way through his mind. He was extremely happy to see his grandchildren alive and well, and he was thoroughly impressed with how they had managed to find him; he had gone most of the time in jail believing that they were dead. And yet, he and Morty had barely spoken. Was Morty still angry at him for leaving? I wouldn't blame him, Rick thought uncomfortably. He had found it hard to even look his grandson in the eyes. I did it for his wellbeing. He shifted his body, trying to get more comfortable, to will himself into sleep. You didn't leave them forever, you came back. It'll be fine, don't think about it. Deal with it tomorrow. There probably isn't even a problem, anyways.

Even as his eyes closed, however, the wheels in Rick's mind continued to turn. How would they get home, with the Federation swarming Earth?

And Beth…

Rick's stomach churned in guilt, causing him to clench his eyes tightly. His daughter probably thought that she had lost not only her father, but also her son and daughter.

I have to figure out how to get us back home.

Rick rolled over again and forced himself to push the thoughts out of his mind.

!

The morning greeted Rick with incessantly loud banging on his door.

"Rick! Rick! Get up, y-y-you gotta get up!"

Through the haze of a hangover, Rick blearily opened his eyes, wary of the light. His head hurt like a bitch.

As his mind woke up, however, and the banging and yelling on the door continued, Rick recognized Morty's voice, though fear rang behind his words. Something was wrong.

Rick threw off the covers and stood up, rubbing his eyes as he made his way over to the door, willing the headache to go away. He opened the door, facing his grandson. "What, Morty?"

"Rick—t-they've come, they're destroying—" Morty kept turning around, pointing towards the window across the hall.

Rick pushed past Morty and ran to the window in the hallway, peering outside. His stomach dropped.

"Holy shit."

Outside, about fifteen huge Federation ships were spread throughout the sky and ground. Civilians were screaming, running from Gromflomites that aimed for them with their large plasma guns. Many buildings had been burned down from the laser shots fired from the ships; rebel fighters were running for the hangars, trying to get into their ships so they could fight back against the Gromflomites. Other rebels on the ground fired back with their own guns, taking down some of the Gromflomites, though it was clear that the Federation was winning. Widespread panic had taken over the city.

Rage ripped through Rick. "Those fuckers! They must have followed the ship I stole—FUCK!" Rick screamed in anguish. How could he have been so stupid as to not turn off the ship tracking device on the Federation ship?

Morty stood beside him, nervously wringing his hands. "What do we-"

Rick cut him off. He turned around, pacing. "Morty, where's your sister?"

"She's in our room-"

"Okay, good." Rick took a deep breath. "W-w-where's my prototype portal gun?"

"In our room. Want me to go get it?"

Rick nodded, rubbing his temples. Morty darted into the room and pulled the portal gun off of the dresser, handing it to Rick as he ran back, Summer accompanying him.

A small part of him laughed at himself for the clumsy handiwork he had done on the portal gun when he was younger. He fired up the portal gun, keeping an eye on the outside. "Okay you two, I'm going to put in our home coordinates, and you two are going to jump through and go home. Got it?"

"Hell no! Grandpa Rick, we're staying with you," Summer protested. They had just gotten their grandpa back—they were not about to allow him to leave them again.

"Yeah, Rick- we aren't going anywhere without you!" Morty stated, standing with his sister in solidarity.

"You idiots, they're here for me, if they know you're alive—just go through the fucking portal!" Rick shouted, frustrated at their refusal.

BAM! A sudden and loud force threw the trio back—the sound of rubble crumbling around him—his body felt so heavy….

Rick lifted up his head, a loud ringing in his ears. He groaned in pain as he looked around the rubble. A huge hole had just been blown in the wall beside where they had just been standing. Understanding clicked into place; the Feds had blown up the building with their ships.

"M...Morty! Summer!" He shouted, forcing himself to sit up.

Silence.

"Where the fuck are you?!" Rick shouted again. "God dammit, God dammit!"

"Eugh…" Morty's grunt of pain hit Rick's ears. He stood up, eyes searching for a sign of his grandchildren.

"Morty!" Rick made his way over to his grandson, who was sitting up, rubbing his head. A trickle of blood dribbled down the side of his temple.

"Rick…Rick!" Morty looked around, suddenly alert as fear gripped his heart. "Where's Summer? Summer!"

Rick swiveled his head, desperation gripping his heart. "There!" He shouted, spotting Summer lying a few feet away, covered in dust and debris. His granddaughter wasn't moving. She can't be…

He pulled Morty to his feet; the two of them made their way over to Summer, stepping over rubble and large chunks of glass.

"Morty, help me move her!"

Rick and Morty pushed off the large pieces of debris that lay on top of Summer, though she still lay unmoving.

"Summer!" Morty shouted, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Summer!"

Rick watched Summer's chest, holding his breath—was she breathing?

A few moments passed before Rick saw her chest move. The tight knot that had built up in his chest loosened a bit, and he sighed in relief. "Morty, she's alive." He looked out through the large hole that had been blown in the wall, seeing Gromflomites and rebels alike running around, shooting at each other. "Help me get her up."

At his words, however, Summer coughed, sitting up suddenly, her eyes wide open as she looked between Rick and Morty. "What…"

"Gromflomites blew us up. Here, get up, we gotta move," Rick said, grabbing Summer by the hand and pulling her to her feet.

"Rick, shouldn't we let her—" Morty began.

"Morty, do you want to be fucked, or do you want to live? If you want to live, we gotta go right now!" Rick snapped, glancing over Summer. She seemed to have some cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. He quietly thanked a God he didn't believe in that none of them had any serious injuries. Rick scooped up his portal gun off of the ground, which had thankfully not been broken in the blast.

Morty closed his mouth, brow furrowed in fear. He turned his attention to his sister. "You alright, Summer?"

Summer nodded.

Wordlessly, they closely followed behind Rick out through the blast hole, warily watching the ensuing battle in front of them.

Rick spotted low bushes about fifteen feet away. If they ran fast enough…"Morty, Summer, I want you two to go and hide behind those bushes. You see them, over there?" At their nods, Rick continued. "Go hide behind there, and don't come out." At their wary glances, Rick's tone became even harsher and more authoritarian than usual. "Fucking run and hide, you idiots! Unless you want to die!"

As soon as he saw that his grandchildren were safely hiding behind the bushes, Rick turned his attention to the battle.

He had an idea. An outlandish idea that may not even work if he didn't' get it right on the first time, but an idea nonetheless.

Turning on his portal gun, he thought hard about running into the center of it and being shot to death. If he did that, he would be free of all of this…

No. You won't be the one to die. Not you.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Rick imputed certain coordinates into the portal gun and stepped through it.

Fear ripped through Morty and Summer.

"Did he just fucking leave us? Again?!" Summer murmured to Morty, anger laced in her voice.

Morty shook his head, though a part of him doubted himself. "N-no, I don't think so…Summer, it's Rick. He must have a plan."

A/N: Ooohwheee, I wonder how Rick's going to get them out of this one! I hope you liked it! If you did, leave a comment/review! Stay schwifty!