Author's note: Hey guys... didn't actually realize how long it had been until I got Wolowizard's message. Time flies when you're in the middle of a bipolar episode and spend most of the day sleeping, I guess. Writing actually does make me feel better, so I'll try not to let a week go by again without an update (for all my stories, which are mostly R&M, and I know a few of you read all of those).
Rick grumbled to himself as he parked his ship in front of the daycare. Why did Morty have to be so reckless? Maybe he'd lost too many neurons to have any survival instincts. Whatever the case was, it was now up to him to rescue Morty. Multiple guns were strapped onto his body, and he felt angry enough to take out the entire Galactic Federation.
He approached the closed daycare and, knowing the doors would be locked, quickly blasted them open with a ray gun. The woman behind the desk looked up at him and screamed. Rick rolled his eyes as he aimed the gun at her forehead. "Take me where you take the kids, or I'll blow your brains out and figure it out myself," he demanded.
The woman, who was now quivering in fear, nodded her head and turned towards the door behind her. Rick was right behind her as she entered the back room. The first thing Rick noticed were two green, humanoid aliens that he didn't recognize. And their nakedness was something he definitely would have remembered if he had come across that species before. He wasted no time in shooting them. The woman's scream covered the sound of their bodies hitting the floor. "You didn't have to kill them!" she protested. The fact that she was upset clued Rick onto the fact that this woman wasn't a victim here. She was just as guilty as the aliens.
"No," Rick agreed. "But I wanted to." The woman turned a sickly shade of green as she crossed the room to another door and opened it.
Rick wasn't surprised when he stepped outside and saw a spaceship. It was fairly large and looked like it could easily be used to transport kidnapped children. Rick knew he had low morals, but the thought of somebody kidnapping children still made his stomach turn. Maybe he did have a line after all. "That will be all," he said, turning back to the woman and shooting her before she got the chance to scream again. He only paused for a brief moment to look at her in disgust before boarding the ship.
The ship itself was easy enough to hack into, after all, he was a genius. All it took was accessing the ship's travel log and turning autopilot on, and the ship was flying off to the stars. Rick sat up in the driver's seat anxiously. He had no idea what he was walking into. At the daycare, he had been so consumed by his rage that he hadn't even thought to ask questions. Now it was too late.
He couldn't help but curse Morty's name for letting himself get captured. Now, instead of this being one of those fun Rick and Morty adventures, it was a goddamn rescue mission. Not only were those less exciting, but there was way more at stake. Of course his growing anxiety didn't help his mood. He couldn't shake the persisting fear that something horrible would (or already had) happened to his grandson while Rick was unable to protect him.
It wasn't long until a desolate planet came into view, though Rick knew his own ship could have gotten him there faster. The planet itself was unimpressive, but a lone, tall building broke the skyline. Rick glared at it warily as the ship drew nearer, eventually landing right in front of it. A large, steel door opened itself up, and the ship drove itself inside. Luckily, there was no one else in the room. The door closed, leaving Rick alone in the darkness.
He hopped out of the ship and slowly advanced on the door, holding the ray gun out in front of him. A logical part of him knew that he should be careful, but he was Rick Sanchez. He rushed in, blew shit up, then rushed back out. He wasn't someone who needed caution. And he was starting to see where his grandson got his recklessness from.
With a pull of the trigger, the door was blasted off of its hinges. He paused for a second and took the following silence as a sign that no one was there. It was actually a little disappointing. He had been hoping to shoot more people.
As soon as he stepped through the doorway, electricity shot through his entire body, and he groaned in pain. His muscles loosened as the gun fell from his grip and he collapsed to the floor. Rick struggled to stand, but he had been paralyzed from the neck down. All he could do was move his eyes, trying to assess the situation.
Two large, ugly, green feet came into view. A deep-throated laughter filled his ears. "I don't know who you are, but did you really think the Earthling female wouldn't alert me that something was wrong?" the alien asked.
Now Rick was extra glad he had shot her. "I didn't take her to be the type who had a backbone," he admitted. The lack of sensation in his body began to fill him with panic. He hated being out of control. Even when he got shot, he was still in control. But now, he was at the complete mercy of this unknown alien.
The alien scoffed. "I didn't get to be where I am by charging in recklessly. I watch. I observe. I plan. Too bad you won't have the chance to learn from me," he said nonchalantly.
Two more aliens entered and grabbed Rick by his shoulders. "Take him to cell block A53," he instructed them. "I'll be there in a minute to interrogate him."
They quickly stripped him of all his weapons before carrying him off. Rick memorized the way he was taken because he knew he would need the internal map when he escaped. If he escaped. No, he couldn't let himself think like that. Morty was in danger, and that's all that mattered.
He was dragged up two flights of stairs and around a corner. Rick eyed the doors they passed and listened for any sounds coming from within, but he heard nothing. His toes began to twitch, and he experimentally wiggled them. It seemed his body was coming out of paralysis.
A door was opened, and Rick was thrown inside. He grunted and let his body fall in a heap so as not to give away his recovery. As soon as the door closed, he began moving his limbs. His waist was stuck, but he was able to use his arms to roll himself onto his back and prop himself up. He still didn't have the strength to stand, but with the way his body was healing, he was hopeful that the rest would come back to him before his interrogator could arrive.
Looking around the room, Rick was disappointed by how bare it was. Everything was cold concrete, and there wasn't even a bed. A chill ran down his spine, knowing that meant he wasn't going to be here for long. He needed to escape now.
As he tried to hoist himself to his feet, the door swung open again. Due to the weakness of his muscles and his surprise, he collapsed right back onto the floor. A smug grin came over the alien leader's face. "You're healing. Good," he said. A strange rod sat in his hand, and Rick knew that could only be bad for him.
The alien closed the door slowly behind him and approached Rick's crumpled form. They met eyes, and Rick grimaced as he observed the pure sadism in the other. Not even the Gromflamites had eyes like that, including the assassin he used to sell to.
Rick screamed in pain as the rod met his side. Hot electricity rushed through him, causing all his muscles to convulse. His vision blurred, blocking out those sadistic eyes. "How did you find out about us?" he demanded.
"One of the kids figured it out, genius," Rick spat.
An alarming glint filled the alien's eyes. "Your kid?" he asked.
Rick swallowed a lump in his throat. No matter what happened, he couldn't let them know about Morty. "My only kid is an adult, asshole," he grunted.
"Then how did you find out?" the alien questioned. "What's your relation to the kid who tipped you off?"
Hesitating, Rick tried to think of a convincing lie. Apparently, he took too long because the rod was stabbed into his other side, and he screamed as his body was on fire once again. "Who told you?" the alien demanded.
"Janet," Rick groaned, randomly blurting out a name.
This time, the rod was jabbed into Rick's stomach, and the searing pain coursed through him again. "Do you like my rod?" the alien asked. "It's programmed to sense how much a person can take before their heart stops and delivers." Rick cursed the nanobots in his bloodstream. "I happen to keep extensive records of all the kids who step through my daycare's doors. There's never been a Janet."
Rick closed his eyes and groaned. "Alright, you caught me," he said. "I didn't know about this operation you're running. I just went there to rob the place."
The rod prodded his forehead, and Rick swore this was worse than every time before. "Do you think I was born yesterday?" the alien asked lazily. "So tell me who you're protecting."
He wasn't stupid, Rick had to admit. Time was running out, he had to give the alien something, but it couldn't be Morty. "Blonde hair. Green shirt," Rick grunted.
"That would be Greg Harris," the alien responded. "But you didn't know his name. So what exactly is your relation to Greg?"
"He's friends with my daughter's kid," Rick lied. "I never bothered to learn his name. But he left a note at my daughter's house, which is where I live."
The alien knelt down by Rick's head to get a closer look into his eyes. "So how did you know he was wearing green?" the alien asked.
"He wears that shirt every Thursday," Rick answered, beginning to panic. He was running out of lies.
Luckily, the alien stood and backed away. "Alright," he said. "I'll question Greg, then I'll decide if I believe you." As the alien left, Rick looked around the room, desperate for something he could use to escape. His eyes fell on the rusty vent in the wall. With enough force, he should be able to break it and escape. But he found himself once again paralyzed, and the dizzying blackness took over his mind.
Morty jolted awake when he heard a crash. He spotted Greg on the bed next to him and smiled. "Rick's here," he said softly. He stood up and waited to greet Rick's scowling face. Yeah Rick was going to be pissed at him, but when they brought this place down together, he was sure his grandpa would forgive him.
After a minute, nothing had happened, and cold fear settled into Morty's stomach. He ran to the door and pressed his ear against it, hearing only silence. "No," he gasped in disbelief.
"What's wrong?" Greg asked. The other boy had followed him to the door, looking as scared as Morty felt.
"Something must have gone wrong," Morty replied. "My grandpa needs help. I need to get to him now."
Greg's eyes widened as a full out panic overtook him. "How are you going to do that?" he asked.
"The vent," Morty answered.
The two boys ran to the vent, unsure of how much time they had before someone came through the door. As quickly as possible, Morty climbed on top of Greg's shoulders. He slid the vent open, hoisted himself inside, and turned back to Greg. "I will find him, and we will save you," he promised.
"Hurry," Greg advised. Morty nodded before sliding the vent back in place. He remembered seeing prison rooms on the third floor. If Rick was taken, he would be there.
Morty slid off his shoes and began the slow, painful climb through the vents. His child body was sore from doing this earlier, making the journey now even harder. He grunted in pain as he maneuvered himself up the vent. His hands and feet were slick with sweat after a few seconds, making it even harder for Morty to climb.
He made it to the second floor and stopped to let himself breathe. Morty checked on the large hall which was still thankfully empty before attempting to climb the vent again. Every limb ached, but Morty pressed upwards. Rick needed him.
Groaning, Morty lifted himself onto the top floor. He scrambled his way through the vent, checking every room until he saw the familiar lab coat covering his grandpa's bony frame.
"Rick!" Morty called out, but Rick didn't move. He squinted, trying to get a better look at his grandpa. The old man's eyes were closed, and he didn't appear to be breathing.
Panic and adrenaline surged though Morty's body, giving him extra strength as he kicked his foot against the vent as hard as he could. After a few kicks, the cover fell off, and Morty slid down the wall into Rick's cell.
He rushed over to Rick, and his fear was confirmed. The old man wasn't breathing. A quick check to Rick's neck also revealed that he had no pulse. "No," Morty breathed out, shocked. "No!" he screamed, panicked.
Morty pressed his hands together and quickly started performing chest compressions with no idea if it would work. He grimaced at the sickening sound of Rick's ribs cracking, continuously pressing as hard and fast as he could. After a few moments, Morty was about to give up hope.
Then, Rick drew a breath.