In celebration of the Season 7 return of Rick and Morty, I bring you the conclusion of "The Greatest Rick of them All"! This is it folks: the second to last chapter; the last one is an epilogue. I want to thank everyone for sticking with this story. It's taken me 7 years to complete this story- and what a 7 years it has been! Your loyalty as readers and encouraging words have helped to keep me writing–and going—through some dark and challenging times. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. :) ~Sillycritter
Just as the strange woman had promised, the portal delivered them directly to the lobby of the hospital. There, Morty was anxiously waiting—and he jumped to his feet when he saw the portal materialize, and his heart swelled with relief when his mother stepped through. "MOM!" he cried out, rushing towards her and throwing his arms around her. "Y-you—" Morty could barely breathe. "You came!" he exclaimed, "Thank—thank God! They—" Suddenly exhausted, Morty wobbled slightly and his mother caught him with surprise in her arms just in time, "they—won't let me see Grandpa—" he whispered. "I—I have to see him—"
"Goodness Morty!" Beth gave her son a quick hug as she wiped her suddenly blurry eyes, "take it easy will you! This is a hospital—okay? I know hospitals, remember? I work at one—granted, it's an animal hospital, but—"
"I—" Morty's eyes filled. "I heard he's in a—a—a coma—"
"Dad is strong, Morty." Beth's voice was trembling as she guided her son towards a chair. "He'll pull through this." She was suddenly very aware that a very tall Bird-like creature was watching her from afar. "Ummm…." Beth turned towards the creature who she suddenly recognized as that half-bird, half-man being who visited them not long ago. "Bird…Person…? Is that it…?"
"It is." The bird-person man did not blink—nor did he offer her any indication as to why he was there. It gave her the willies.
"Bird Person came to get me." Morty smiled up at Bird Person and wiped his eyes. "I'm supposed to give Rick this—" He started to open his palm but Bird Person quickly moved to stand in front of him.
"That is top secret Mortimer," Bird Person warned. "It is not for public knowledge."
"Excuse me ummm—Bird Person—" Beth quickly held up a finger to get the strange creature's attention. "This is my Dad we are talking about—and—I think I'm more than qualified to know what you're giving him—"
"I will explain," Bird Person nodded diligently. "First you must be granted access to his nesting place."
"Nesting place'?"
"He means his room," Morty corrected, pointing upwards. "They said he's on the second floor but—they won't let me up there," Morty gritted his teeth with frustration, "because I'm a 'minor'-"
"That's ridiculous!" Beth groaned as she stomped with determination over to the front desk. "Where is Rick Sanchez?" she demanded crossly to the receptionist, "He is my father and this is my son—and we demand to see him—"
"He is in room 504," the receptionist responded simply, as she quickly pressed a button to alert the orderly. "He was in a mild coma when he arrived, but he is responding well to medicine and is starting to come out of it—"
"Oh thank God." It was Morty's turn to catch Beth this time before she fell—surprisingly, he was strong enough to keep her standing, as he was just as in shock as she was.
"You may go up and see him."
"Um—" Sandra stepped forward. "I'm not family but—" She hesitated, looking towards Morty for permission.
"This um—" Morty blushed with embarrassment. "These people are—are my Grandpa's good friends," Morty announced with a pride he wasn't expecting. He then pulled Sandra's arm, as well as an unsuspecting Bird Person's, towards the desk. "Can they come? Please?" Morty looked to his mother for help and confusion. "Mom," he pleaded, "tell her it's OK—"
"Of course it is." Beth nodded gratefully, surprised and pleased (since when did her father have friends—except Morty?).
"Mom—" Morty glanced around the room. "W-where's Summer and…Dad…?"
Beth tried to avoid his worried eyes. "They didn't come."
"B-b-but—" Morty's lip quivered. "-www-why wouldn't they want t-to—"
"Let's go Morty." His mother was walking away towards the elevator; Morty had no choice but to follow.
Once they were all inside the elevator, Bird Person silently requested the bottle of water that contained the powder that Morty held in his shaking hand. Morty looked up tearfully but silently held it over. "This'll help him live longer?" he whimpered.
"Yes," Bird Person nodded.
"What is this?" Beth whispered with alarm. It looked like a plain old bottle, yet she knew they had something planned. "And—" Her eyes raised to the ceiling where she noticed the cameras always watching. "How can we—"
"It is safe." Bird Person spoke thinly. "That is all I can disclose right now."
Beth remained silent. She knew enough about this Bird-Person that she would likely not be getting any easy answers any time soon.
Sandra looked down and saw Morty was shaking. Her heart ached for him as she did for Benji; she could tell he really loved his grandfather. She reached an open hand towards him, offering a tender smile; Morty, surprised, accepted this stranger's hand inside his own, all the while carefully avoiding his own mother's oppressive and startled gaze. "It'll be OK Morty," Sandra whispered to him reassuringly. "Your Grandfather is a very resilient person."
"Th-Thanks…" Morty mumbled gratefully.
Beth, meanwhile, was silently seething as she gritted her teeth in response to this statement. What would YOU know about MY father, she would have demanded aloud if they were alone. Were YOU abandoned by him as a teenager with a sick mother you had to take care of all by yourself—?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the elevator's swinging doors which opened to the hospital's sixth floor. They entered the CCU wing silently.
"Are you the Sanchez family?" an orderly asked warily as she approached them.
"Yes," Beth allowed, "and these are his good friends, Mr. Bird-Person and—ummm—"
"Sandra Montgomery," Sandra supplied.
"I prefer to be called Bird Person when using your native tongue." Bird Person spoke to both Beth and the orderly with his feathers slightly frazzled.
"Yes," the orderly nodded immediately, while still eyeing this most unusual Bird-like man, "of course. Mrs. Sanchez, as your father is just waking out of an induced state, I will only allow blood relatives at the moment to enter."
"Of course." Beth turned towards Sandra. "I'm sorry–can you two wait for us here—"
"Yes—but—" Sandra hesitated. "My—my son is waiting for me and—I will have to go home soon…" Her fingers tightened their grip on her backpack which contained the portal gun. She could use it if she really wanted to.
"Of course," Beth nodded with understanding. "We'll work that out soon but—Let me see how Dad is doing—" She hesitated, suddenly afraid. "Morty—" Her voice quivered. "Will you go in first…?"
"What?" Morty turned towards her with surprise. "But—why—?"
"When—when we last spoke—" Beth shivered. "I–I told him to go…." She faced her son, suddenly ashamed of herself. "Do you think he'll want to see me?" Beth's eyes filled in spite of herself.
Morty blinked. "Of course he will!" He shook his head at her in disbelief, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all. Then, he threw his arms around her. "He loves you, Mom," he whispered. "He loves you."
Beth gently stroked her son's hair, marveling silently at how suddenly so grown-up he seemed. "I know…" she muttered, "but I wish he'd say it, and show it better sometimes…"
"Every time he comes home, Mom," Morty said, his voice muffled. "Every time he does that—no matter how long he stays—he's saying it."
"Yeah…" Beth whispered hoarsely. "I know…" Without hesitation she leaned down and kissed him promptly on the forehead. "Come on, kiddo," she whispered, "let's go inside and say hi to Dad."
"OK," Morty nodded, taking his mother's hand as she led him through the door.
Rick was lying still in the bed when they entered. If Morty hadn't been told, he might have thought it was a different patient in a different room—because Rick looked so pale and old, he hardly recognized the sight of him. Morty tried not to notice the IV hooked up to Rick's arm. He tried not to notice all the machines that were keeping track of his vitals. It was hard to imagine this was the same man who had built a space-ship that traveled all over the universe and had invented the portal gun that took them in between different dimensions.
Yet there he was, his grandfather—C137—the Greatest Rick he'd ever met—in the flesh, and breathing fine—even if he'd recently had a machine helping him to breathe, moments ago keeping him alive.
The orderly respectfully closed the door behind her, and, finally, they were alone. "If he asks for anything," she'd said, "just make sure you give him water." This, Morty could do; it was a full bottle of freshly-bought water, complete with the powder they'd mixed in outside the hospital doors, out of sight from any cameras that might suspect they were there adding poison.
This wasn't poison of course. This was the elixir that would keep Rick alive.
The orderly had gently stirred Rick awake before she'd left. When Rick finally opened his eyes and saw his grandson standing there, he felt hot tears welling in his eyes. Before Morty could see, he abruptly turned away. "What are you doing here?" he snapped sourly.
Morty blinked and stepped backwards with shock. "B-Bird Person came to get me…" He shivered a little. "They—they said you—you almost died," he whispered hoarsely. Suddenly braver, he took a step closer to the bed—only for Rick to turn his entire body away and face the wall. "Rick…" Morty felt a lump in his throat. "I—I met Sandra," he declared proudly, taking a few tentative steps closer. "She—she's really cool," Morty noted, "and…and she's right outside! She wants to see you," Morty allowed, "and…and Bird Person is here and…and Mom too! We—" Morty swallowed hard. "We've all been worried about you—"
"BULL shit!" Rick exploded, startling Morty into silence. "Your MOM wants nothing to DO with me MORTY—"
"That's not true!" Morty pleaded, but Rick wasn't listening.
"As far as I'm concerned," Rick huffed, "she and your no-good excuse of a father can go take a—a walk off a pier and—"
"STOP!" Morty bellowed, his eyes frantically turning towards the door. "She LOVES you, you stupid ASSHOLE!" Morty spat. "She came here to BE with you! And so did Bird Person! And Sandra loves you too—"
"Sandra's Vin's kid from another dimension, Morty." Rick spat, silencing Morty once again. "She doesn't even KNOW me—"
"She could!" Morty fought back tears. "Why do you always do this!? You always push people away—"
"Because people always LEAVE!" Rick bellowed, even as his entire body shook from exhaustion and the machines began to whirr. "People always LEAVE you in the end—" He didn't get to finish because the door burst open and the orderly rushed in, starting to adjust the machines only for Rick to stop her hollering, "GET the hell OUT! Can't you see I'm having a fucking PRIVATE CONVERSATION with my fucking GRANDSON right here!?"
"Yes—sir! I'm sorry Sir—"
"DAD!" Beth came running into the room. "What in the world is going on!?"
"Why do you, of all people even CARE!?" Rick spat. "You never gave a SHIT about any of this before—"
"DAD!" Beth shrank back in horror.
"RICK!" Morty groaned, covering his eyes.
"What are you even DOING here, Beth?" Rick demanded hotly.
"What am I doing here!?" Beth repeated incredulously. "You're my father! I- I came to see you," she stammered, "because I was afraid you were dying—"
"Bullshit!" Rick practically snarled, and Beth stumbled back in surprise, "you came here only because you felt obligated to see me! Because what kind of a daughter would you be if you didn't? Well? Am I right!? Well: AM I!?"
"NO, you ASSHOLE!" Beth's voice rose sharply in spite of herself, "You're NOT right! You're NOT right about ANY of it—at ALL—in fact you're completely and utterly, entirely WRONG!" Furious now, she began to pace back and forth frantically while Rick watched in stunned silence. Suddenly she stopped at once in her tracks, turning at once to face him with an unexpected and challenging smirk he found strangely unsettling. "You're a GENIUS, right? Well it's kind of funny," she forged on, "how you understand all of these scientific things that I can't understand and yet you can't seem to grasp even the simplest things—because as smart as you are you're so goddamn stubborn—" Beth's voice trembled as she continued, "but don't ever seem to understand—" Her voice quivered even as she rose emphatically in pitch, "you don't seem to be able to understand that I came here because I LOVE YOU."
Her words seemed to echo about the room, filling the room with a sudden stillness that seemed to slow the endless pursuits of time. Morty felt his heart swell with pride as he turned towards his mother and grandfather, who were staring at each other as though they'd never seen each other before.
"I love you Dad…" Beth sank into the chair beside the bed, suddenly exhausted. "That's why I'm here," she added, reaching out a hand towards him, "now."
Rick stared down at his daughter's hand that was held out in peace offering.
"Please," Beth coaxed gently. "I…I can't lose you again," she whispered, and, to Rick's horror, lowered herself against him and began to quietly sob.
"Shit…" For perhaps the first time in his life, Rick felt completely and utterly out of his depth. He wasn't used to comforting people; he wasn't good at this. Yet, somehow, he suddenly found his hand moving forward—then, coming to a gentle rest on the top of her head. Beth grew rigid at his touch, then relaxed as he began to gently stroke her hair, slowly, reassuringly—much like he had once when she was very young.
"Bethie, Bethie…." he murmured softly. (It was what he'd called her when she was a child.) "I'm sorry, my sweet Bethie…"
Sniffling, voice muffled, Beth looked up with surprise, startling him with her astonished adult expression as her eyes met his. "Wait a second—" Beth choked out, "What—did you just call me—?"
Rick tried—and failed—to stifle what sounded like either choked-back laughter or a sob. "Bethie," he nodded, his eyes softening and yet sparkling with fondness at the memory. "Don't you remember: 'Bed-Time for Bethie'?" He began to hum a soft tune as he continued to stroke her hair, and Beth, nodding, began to hum along with him the song he used to sing for her when she couldn't sleep at night.
"You sang that for me," Beth whispered in amazement, "so many nights…." Her eyes misted. "I haven't heard you sing like that in years…" They continued to hum together, Beth's voice matching his as he continued to gently and reassuringly stroke her hair.
Morty, meanwhile, had moved back slowly out of sight towards the doorway. For a moment he stood with pride, silently watching the scene unfold before him—a moment between the two members of his family he loved the most—a moment that he'd never thought would come.
"Morty!" Sandra greeted him immediately as Morty quietly exited the room. "What's going on!? Is your grandfather—"
"He's OK," Morty smiled with relief. "Here, uh, Bird Person. You can give this to Mom for me OK? Let her know I'll be right back. I think she can handle it," Morty grinned as he handed over the water bottle filled with elixir to Bird Person.
Bird Person nodded and bowed slightly towards him. "It is my honor to assist."
"C'mon, Sandra." Morty took Sandra's hand. "Let's go outside and get you home OK? I know your son must be worried." He couldn't stop smiling, because of what he'd just witnessed was nothing short of a miracle.
"But shouldn't I—" Sandra pointed at the door.
"You'll see him again," Morty interjected, quickly taking her by the hand. "Come on!" Without warning he pulled her towards the elevator doors, which closed just as the orderly was arriving with questions.
Once outside, Morty found a quiet location to fire the portal gun and, without a moment's hesitation, they jumped through.
The last thing Bella Livingstone ever expected when babysitting was for an actual portal to appear in the living room. It happened when they were watching one of Benji's favorite movies because he couldn't sleep. He'd told her about the strange "wizard" who knew how to make magic portals appear out of nowhere—and while Benji had a great imagination, and she was used to his stories, Bella had never expected him to actually be telling the truth.
She was even more amazed when Benji's mother appeared with a teenager, a boy who was probably in middle school, by her side.
"Mrs. M!" Bella jumped to her feet, open-jawed with amazement. "Oh my God—how did you do that! And who is this—" she pointed at Morty.
"Bella—it's okay," Sandra was smiling her most reassuring smile, which only grew wider as Benji exclaimed, "MOM!" and ran towards her. "This is Morty," Sandra introduced to Benji and Bella who continued to stare in amazement at the space where the portal had disappeared. "He's Rick's grandson."
"You're Rick's grandson!?" Benji practically skipped over and held out his hand eagerly for a handshake—which surprised Sandra, as Benji was typically very shy around strangers. "WOW."
"Hi," Morty grinned. "I'm Morty. What's your name?"
"Benji," grinned Benji, "and guess what!? I'm ADOPTED!"
"Oh," Morty nodded awkwardly, not sure what to say to that. "Your Mom's really nice."
"Yeah!" Benji practically shouted, "she's SUPER nice! Hey—wanna see my room?"
"Uhhh…" Morty hesitated for a moment, then glanced over at Sandra questioningly.
"Just for a moment, honey," Sandra urged, "Morty's got to get home soon."
"C'mon—!" Benji grabbed an unsuspecting Morty by the hand, dragging him down the hall much like Rick did in their early exploration days, "-I'll show you my gerbil, Henry!"
"O-Okay—" Morty managed to respond as he was practically yanked into the bedroom as Benji closed the door behind them.
Sandra couldn't help but chuckle a little as she watched the two; she could still hear Benji chatting away happily, and she was amazed, because Benji never invited anyone into his bedroom except herself, and, of course, Bella.
"Looks like Benji's made a new friend!" Bella giggled.
"It sure does." Sandra laughed, relieved to see that the entire afternoon hadn't left a lasting negative mark on him. (Benji had been through enough, and more trauma than most adults could handle in a lifetime.)
She knew it would be a challenge to coax them apart, but first, she had to let Bella go for the evening, and then she had to make sure to give Morty something she should have parted with years ago. Once Bella had left, Sandra gently opened the door—she was pleased to see Morty showing Benji how to play an online video game. Benji always wanted an older brother, she thought happily. Maybe we should have visitors more often…. "Benji honey?" she greeted them carefully so as not to startle her son out of his creative reverie, "it's getting late and I need to speak with your new friend here for a moment—"
"Aw Mom!" Benji whined, but he was grinning, "we're having so much fun—!"
"I'll make sure that Morty visits us again." Sandra placed a grateful hand on Morty's shoulder. "But first—would you let Morty and I have a little talk, Benji? Then–we've got to say goodnight—because you've got to get to sleep young man!" She picked Benji up by the waist and placed him in the bed, tucking him under the covers.
"Goodnight Benji," Morty grinned with a wave. "Let's finish the game next time, o-okay?"
"OK!" Benji beamed from ear to ear.
"Thank you so much Morty." Sandra was elated as she closed the door. "It's been so hard for Benji to make friends here. He's….different."
"Yeah," Morty laughed, "so am I." He turned serious. "Uh, Sandra—" He blushed. "What did you want to talk to me—ummm—about?" He wasn't sure why but he was suddenly nervous. "I should really get back before my Mom starts to worry—"
"Of course," Sandra nodded with understanding. "But first—I'd like to give you something." She brought out the old shoebox and handed it to Morty, who accepted with surprise, "it's for your grandfather," Sandra added quietly. "From my dad."
"...Oh…." Morty glanced down at the box in his hands. He wasn't sure if he should open it.
"You should know something about your grandfather, Morty." Sandra led him to the couch where, numbly, Morty sat. "I'm not sure how much he's told you about his….relationship…with my father?" she inquired carefully.
"I know a little." Morty blushed. "They were….together….like…romantically," he added tentatively, "...right?"
"Yes," Sandra nodded, "they were….but….in my dimension…the one you're in right now…." Morty blinked in shock but did not interrupt. "...Your grandfather was gone for a very long time without explanation ... .My father died and sadly…he did not come home in time…."
"I'm sorry." Morty lowered his eyes. "He does that. He goes away for months—even years on end—without telling anyone where he's going…." He shuddered, remembering that time that Rick had left them all to survive on their own on Tiny Planet. It had been months before he returned without explanation as to why he'd left in the first place. It had taken Morty months to get over it all—he still was angry that Rick had replaced himself with another Rick….Now that he was going to survive…What would happen if he left again…?
"In your dimension," Sandra continued as though Morty hadn't said a word, "he never left….but Vincent died while they were soldiers fighting enemy lines together during the war….and I don't think Vincent got to say a lot of things he wanted to say to your grandfather….there wasn't enough time…for either of them to say what they needed to say…" Sandra's eyes filled with tears, and Morty, suddenly uneasy, had to look away. "In my dimension, Morty, Vincent did have some time to write to your grandfather….but he never knew where to send the letters—so….they just sat unread….for years." Sandra placed both hands tenderly on the shoebox in Morty's arms. "These are those letters, Morty," Sandra declared, "and….I want your grandfather to read them."
Morty felt tears stinging his own eyes but he refused to let them fall. He hugged the box to his chest with pride. "I will make sure he gets them," he declared. "I—" He was suddenly embarrassed and didn't know what to say. "Thank you," he whispered, "for everything." Before he lost his nerve, he gave her a quick hug, and she handed him the portal gun. "I'm sure he'll be grateful," said Morty, as he cradled the box in one arm. With the other, he aimed and fired the portal gun at the center of the room as he had been shown and had done so many times before.
"Please tell him he is welcome here," Sandra gave his arm a squeeze. "Any of you. Any time."
"I will." Morty managed to smile. "Thanks," he added, grinning widely as the portal materialized in an instant before him. Holding carefully to his coveted prize, he waved before closing his eyes tight and jumping through.
For a week, Rick remained in the hospital.
It was the longest week of Morty's life.
For an entire week, the shoebox remained hidden under Morty's bed. Several times, he was tempted to read them. Several times, he had to remind himself they were not his property—they were Rick's, and Rick's alone.
Finally, one day in Autumn, Rick came home.
Morty threw a party in the living room with pizza and hot dogs and cake and ice cream. Only two people who were invited didn't arrive—Jerry, who was too stubborn to admit when he was wrong, and Summer, who was still sore and was too stubborn to get off her phone.
"C'mon Summer!" Morty banged on her door more than once. "He's different—you'll see! He's sober! He's different! He's actually fun to be around, Summer! C'mon—will you just trust me for once and just give him a chance! Please?" he begged for the umpteenth time.
"As IF!" came the staunch reply from the other side of Summer's closed door, "he's a freaking lunatic, Morty! I'm not going out of my way to accept some lame-ass stupid apology from him until he goes out of mine!"
"Aw jeez…." Morty pouted, but he knew she'd have to come around in her own time.
"Still no?" Beth frowned as she gave Morty a sympathetic hug around shoulders.
"Still," Morty sighed.
Beth shook her head sadly as she gazed off down the hallway. "Give her time."
Morty ground his teeth in frustration. "I'll try," he allowed, before stomping dramatically into the living room where his grandfather was knocking back sodas and enjoying reruns of Ball Fondlers.
"Hey, MORTY!" Rick gave him a Hi-Five. "Why the long face—your sister still bitching out?"
"Yeah." Morty flopped onto the couch with defeat, letting the couch suck him into its cushions like a monster wanting to swallow him whole.
"Freakin' teenagers, man…" Rick shook his head. "Never could understand 'em, Morty…."
"Yeah," Morty mumbled. "You're telling me."
Suddenly without warning, Rick turned off the TV.
"HEY!" Morty exclaimed, "I was WATCHING that—"
"Eh…" Rick shrugged. "Older seasons are so much better."
"Hey Rick…" Morty was suddenly very quiet and it was making Rick very uncomfortable.
"Show's on," Rick pointed out as the ads were finally finished.
"Yeah. Listen….I gotta get something…" Morty pushed himself to his feet. "Pause it for me will you?" Without explanation, he took off down the hall.
Rick watched him disappear down the hallway and into his bedroom. The f*ck's up with that kid? he wondered warily. Morty had been acting so strange since he'd come home….often leaving Rick to wonder if this was his original grandson. Were the Ricks pulling a prank on him? He sure hoped not—and if they were, they'd be sure to regret it. All Rick wanted was for everything to go back to normal (whatever that was for him anyway).
When Morty returned he was holding a box in his hand. It looked like an old shoebox. He seemed strangely nervous all of a sudden, and wouldn't look Rick in the eye as he stood there holding that box.
"What the f's wrong with you, Morty?" Rick demanded crossly. "This isn't a rerun Morty—this is a live marathon, got it?—I-I don't have any of these episodes recorded and we're missing the best parts—"
"This is from Sandra." Morty's voice shook as he shoved the box into Rick's hands.
Rick blinked with surprise as he stared down at the box. "What?"
Morty sat down gingerly beside his grandfather. "It's from Vincent," he explained weakly.
Rick shivered. He couldn't look at Morty as his fingers gripped the box, yearning to open it. Something stopped him, and he couldn't move.
"They're letters to you." Morty tried to keep his voice steady, but he was failing, as usual. "From—"
"Don't say his name." Rick's voice was a warning.
"Rick—" Morty pleaded, but his grandfather wouldn't look at him—and, to Morty's horror, Rick was trembling; he looked suddenly very old and tired, and it scared Morty, scared him so much that he knew he couldn't just ignore it, he had to say something. "Rick—" Morty started again. "I—I know how much—" he blushed, "I mean—I know how much Vincent meant to you—"
"Morty—" Rick warned. "Don't—"
"-I—" Morty blushed again. "I know he was special to you," Morty stammered, "and—"
"Don't—" Rick shoved the box roughly at Morty, who caught it just in time.
"He loved you, Rick."
"Morty—"
"And so do I." Morty reached forward and, without warning, threw his arms around Rick's waste, hugging him as tightly as he could, all the while knowing he would probably be rejected in an instant—but, to his astonishment, Rick wasn't pushing him away.
His grandfather was completely silent. He was just sitting there, sitting as still as a statue.
"Rick?" Morty glanced up, stunned into silence, as Rick was shaking, and there were tears in his eyes. "Rick…" Morty whispered. "Are—are, uh—are you—"
"Sh-shut the fuck up, Morty—"
"You're—" Morty was amazed. "You're crying—"
"NO I'm not!" Rick sniffled and wiped his eyes furiously as he turned away. "You're the baby around here Morty!"
"You're not a baby, Rick." Morty leaned in closer and gave his grandfather a gentle squeeze. "I won't tell anybody."
"What are you," Rick huffed, glowering at his grandson, "a leech monster? Get the hell OFF me, Morty! Geeze." Completely embarrassed now, he wiped his eyes and tried to ignore the sight of the box on the floor. Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up, because he'd gotten an idea—and he hadn't had an idea in so long—it almost made him want to dance, and suddenly he jumped to his feet like he was twenty years old and about to give a performance.
Morty, meanwhile, was watching in awe and astonishment, half curious and half concerned. "Rick! What're you—"
"Hey, hey Morty!" Rick was nearly brimming over with excitement. "Wanna—wanna go on—on an adventure with me, Morty?"
Morty's eyes widened. "Really?" He hadn't seen Rick this excited in….well…maybe ever.
"I'm gonna take you on a trip, Morty!" Rick was beginning to get excited. "To my favorite bar. One of my favorite places in the whole universe, Mort-Morty! It's-it's off-world, and, they've got the BEST disco music you've ever HEARD, MORTY—"
"B-b-b-but RICK!" Morty's head was spinning. "You—you can't go to a bar! You—you can't drink—" He was beginning to hyperventilate, and Rick's eyes were growing wider and wider by the second with excitement.
"It's not what you think Morty," Rick grinned. "This isn't about getting a drink. This is about memories, Morty! OH, the MEMORIES!" Rick was starting to dance. He began to dance and prance with joy around the room. "This is about one of the greatest men who ever LIVED, MORTY! This is one of those kinds of trips that you will NEVER EVER FORGET, MORTY! So whaddya say, kid? ARE YOU WITH ME MORTY!? ARE YOU WITH ME!?"
Morty shivered with excitement, a secret pride swelling to the surface from deep within him.
He was ready. Ready and willing. He would follow Rick to the ends of the Earth and beyond.
They were Rick and Morty for a hundred years….and he was ready for anything.