EVE

SOMEWHERE IN SPACE

RICK'S SHIP

Today was a bad day. I could feel it in my bones when I woke up. Days like this have weirdly happened less and less ever since I started living with the Smiths. spending time with Morty's seems to be helping. Although I'm only a year older than him, I see a younger version of myself in him. Helping him feels like I'm reaching out to a part of me that's buried deep inside.

Over the past month, we've grown closer. We're in different school years but share the same lunch period, ensuring we always have someone to sit with and talk to. It's a new experience for both of us, but we've managed to fill our conversations with tales of his adventures with Rick. I've always enjoyed listening to their intergalactic escapades, and I've learned not to talk too much about myself to others, which he doesn't seem to mind.

I've often found myself pleading with Morty and Rick to take me along on their departures, but the answer has always been a resounding 'no.' I'm not entirely sure why, but it's clear that Rick doesn't like me. He doesn't hide his disdain, viewing me as nothing more than a tool for Jerry and Beth to mend their own issues. while I'm used to telling myself such things, but hearing it vocalized by someone else really stabs at the wound. The days they leave are the hardest; it's as if Morty takes a piece of me with him—my dreams, my aspirations, leaving behind only a hollow shell filled with anger and despair, I'm more then used to by now that is myself.

Even on days when Morty is around and everything goes perfectly, there are still moments of struggle. but that life right? easpaily if you autism but after enduring a particularly grueling day at school, Rick invited me to join them. It was an exhilarating thought—I was finally going to be part of their world. The prospect of leaving with them, along with Summer, was thrilling. The sensation of Rick's ship lifting off was incomparable.

However, my excitement was short-lived when I realized we were only included for free admission to fucking Boob World. I had genuinely believed they wanted my around. I could feel the disappointment, like a weight pressing down on my chest. And so, I found myself relegated to the backseat of Rick's car, amidst a sea of empty liquor bottles. How stupied I was to think they wanted me around. It seems no one ever does, and perhaps it's better that way. I need to stop caring, to withdraw once more. I'm not sure why I let my guard down, but I'll attribute it to my growing fondness for Morty. It's only when Rick abruptly starts bringing the ship towards a darkened space ship that I'm pulled from my downward spiral.

EVE

SOMEWHERE IN SPACE

ALIEN STARSHIP

I've been keeping close to Morty, Summer, and Rick, but I haven't really been listening, trying my hardest to focus on the almost magical turned-off tech we see as we walk through. I wonder how easy it would be to get to the control bay and steal this thing before Rick noticed me and dragged me back into the real world. I mean they have been dickheads but at least I get to look at all this. I was never the smartest of kids when it came to academics, just because some IQ test that said I was slightly above average but when you barely passed math and english you'd never feel superior to anyone. I love technology generally because of the hope it brings. How a bunch of man-made electronics can make you feel so free.

I just walked behind them like some stupid puppy. I hated this feeling. I knew I only felt like this because I was already having a bad day and them making me feel like I'm not needed would make me feel even worse. Even though they're probably not mean to or even actually doing anything. I just followed, my head swimming through its own thoughts.

I was pulled out of my trance by two alien things bumping into me from behind. I turned quickly, lashing out with my hands, smacking one on the side with my fist. Their voices finally register with me. "Can you help us? Our planet was taken over by some kind of...entity. It absorbed the minds of our people. We didn't notice until it was too late. The people it takes over, they - they look like your friends, your family, your leaders, but they're not themselves anymore. They're part of...it." That's some scary-ass fucking shit. I back away from the figures until I was almost behind Rick, when he voices my own thoughts. "Then how do you know it didn't get on the ship with you? Those two dingdongs seem pretty calm about the whole thing."

He and the others at the back scream as they vomit into each other's mouths, as I make my way behind Rick, fully. I may not like the guy, but he's my best bet for making my way out of here with my badly damaged head still intact. Rick pulls out his gun, to my relief, as Summer, Morty, and I start freaking out in terror. The thing, which I suppose you could call Unity, speaks: "Long time no see." "Unity?" What the hell? Rick knows this thing. Of course, he does. I quickly change my plan, moving away from Rick and toward the wall as Summer and Morty yell at him to stay behind him but close enough to the hallway to run. "Oh boy, uh... these are my grandkids, Summer and Morty, and their friend Eve," I say, barely bothering to correct him as I'm more concerned about not dying. "Summer, Morty, Eve, this is... Unity. We sort of used to... date," this motherfucker says.

EVE

UNITY'S PLANET

"Quite an operation you got going here, Une," Rick starts as we make our way off the hive mind's spaceship and onto their planet. "You're a whole planet now, huh?"

"After we broke up, I spent some time wandering through space. Then I found this world where I was better able to focus on my passion for unification." It's going to take some time to get used to the way they talk—multiple people sharing one consciousness.

"You mean stealing people's bodies?" I'm still not sure how to feel about that.

"Summer, rude," Rick dismisses Summer's worries with a wave of his hand. "Why don't you two kids go run off and play with Unity while Unity and I do some catching up?"

"Ugh." Summer, Morty, and I move away from some of the people behind us—well, person? I'm not sure how to refer to these beings, but the carriers that move towards us are intriguing.

"No, wait, Rick, aren't these people going to barf into our mouths and absorb us?" Morty voices my own thoughts.

"You're guests here on my planet. You're free to be yourselves. I've never been any good at disappointing Rick."

"Well, now I'm going to barf."

"Me too, Morty. Me too." I watch these intricate people, their gazes wandering, oblivious to the conversations happening around me. These people—well, person, I give up; I'll just use "people"—work in sync. It's freaky as fuck. I hate the idea, but I can't help but find myself stuck on how special it must be. No more worries. No more messed-up brain. Someone to tell you what to wear every morning. To tell me what to eat. What to like, what to hate, what to rage about. What to listen to, what band to like. What to buy tickets for. What to joke about, what not to joke about. I want someone to tell me what to believe in. Who to vote for and who to love and how to tell them. Just how to live your life. That utter peace I'll never even get a glimpse of. Now that's attractive.

Deep down, I know I'd despise it. The loss of autonomy would suffocate me, leaving me feeling trapped and longing for the freedom to live my life on my terms, even if it means facing the uncertainties and complexities that come with it. The peaceful facade of unity only intensifies the internal turmoil. I know that being truly fulfilled means accepting who I am, even if it's tough—or at least that's what I've been told my whole life. Embracing my individuality is the only path to real happiness, but I don't really think there is true happiness. I mean, you can feel that rush of hormones or emotion, but it's just some chemical in your head. I am who I am, and trying to love myself has never worked. I mean, I know I'm a shitty person, but I'm okay with that. I don't have to love it; I just have to be okay with it. But after all, I may be a shitty, fucked-up person, but hell, at least I am my own person, and I think I'd prefer that over some facade of happiness.

As I pull out of my thoughts, I realize that I've been left behind as the others walked off. I feel that pit from earlier deepen. They didn't even think? They just got up and left like it was nothing. I can see Rick in the distance, making his way toward a big red building. I mean, I would enjoy some alone time. I don't really care that much, I tell myself. I grab my phone from the pocket of my jeans, pulling my headphones off as I set my playlist to shuffle. Before deciding where I shall venture by myself, I think, "They can't just leave me here. Beth would have their heads." So, I decide to just go.

I'm making my way down alone, what seems to be a shopping mall. When all of a sudden, "It almost worked" by TV Girl starts playing from my downloads on my phone. Fuck this song. I feel that pit deepening in my heart. For fuck's sake. The sound of the song cuts through me like a knife, causing me to stumble. Normally, I'd listen to songs id listen too my lowest, and it wouldn't make me feel like this, but I was already feeling alone, unwanted, and had that heavy feeling on my chest. So this was the drop of rain that broke the dam.

I could feel the hot tears running down my face as I force myself to continue walking until I reach the supermarket without even meaning to. Of course, I made my way here. I walk inside, the song still echoing in my head. I navigate through the aisles before finding home in front of a mix of aisle chips and chocolate. I pick up some vagley chips and sweets, looking things mindlessly, but my head is racing. I have no clue what the fuck is in these space things, but I don't really care. As I make my way to the checkout, I pass a health aisle and stop.

I stare at the safety razors. I swear I meant to keep moving, but I just couldn't. Ashamed, I quickly grab them before making my way to the till. I notice a lighter behind the candy by the till, so I pick it up on my way because I love a bit of fire. Fuck, I didn't think of money—how the fuck am I going to pay for this? I go to hand over the items, but the old man behind the counter just says.

""Don't worry, Eve, they're free. You're a guest of Rick's."

"Thanks," I say, trying to avoid eye contact, hoping he didn't see what I was buying. I move to leave before turning back.

"Is there a nice apartment somewhere nice and high where I could stay while Rick's busy?" I knew it was a long shot, but hell, if Unity's in charge of the whole plant, I'm sure she could move someone out for a bit so I can relax somewhere safe.

"Sure, just follow me," the man—no, Unity—says, getting up. "Just follow me."

As we leave the shop, the now afternoon sun bathes the bustling city streets in a warm glow. A car pulls up just outside, and a woman steps out gracefully as the man gets in and gestures for me to follow. The vibrant hum of the city surrounds us, a constant reminder of the interconnectedness of everyone, something I could never get used to. We weave through the busy streets, all cars in harmony, until we arrive at a luxurious apartment complex. Guided upstairs, I can't help but marvel at the surroundings. I could get used to this.

"You'll find everything you need in here," the man remarks casually as we enter the empty yet exquisitely furnished apartment, a sense of comfort settling over me as I imagine the possibilities that lie ahead in this new and unfamiliar space.

"This is typically where I host diplomats and dignitaries; however, you are welcome to use the space for the duration of Rick's stay," he states graciously as he guides me through the sophisticated apartment.

The man smiles at me as I make my way around the beautiful place after dropping my supplies on a couch. "Rick's just over in that building with me," I look over to where he pointed at a dark red building opposite this block. "If you need anything, just call."

And just like that, I was alone again. I reach for my phone to open something to watch, only to remember I was in fucking space, and so I only had what was already downloaded. i sigh looking out at the sky, the blades hidden in my bag call to me—their cold steel promising release.

My eyes fluttered open, my heart still racing from the nightmare that had gripped me in its icy claws. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls like ghosts of memories I wished I could forget.

I pushed myself up, the bedsheets clinging to my skin like a cocoon. The room lay silent, its air heavy with the lingering scent of tears. The fabric rustled as I disentangled my legs, the cool cotton leaving an imprint on my flesh. The window, half-closed, allowed a sliver of moonlight to spill across the floor, illuminating the faded wallpaper and casting elongated shadows.

I stared around—the room was a mess, a reflection of my fractured state. Empty food wrappers littered the floor, evidence of my desperate binge from earlier. Chocolate bars, chips—anything to drown out the pain. But the gnawing hunger remained, a void that couldn't be filled with calories. I shook my head, trying to shake my truthful thoughts. And then I saw it—the crimson stain on the sheets. One of the cuts, a relic from my stupid mistake from earlier. It hadn't healed. Blood seeped through the fabric, a reminder of my fragility.

Panic surged. I tore at the wound, desperate to staunch the bleeding. But it was too late. The room blurred as tears filled my eyes. Fuck, what if Rick or Moery or Summer come looking for me and find me like this? My breath tightened within my chest, quickening. That's when I rushed to the window, realizing what I hadn't noticed before-I couldn't see anyone.

What was only less than an two hours ago, the streets were packed with Unity's men, but now it's empty except for hundreds of sheets of paper. Fuck, she must have left. I panic, realizing that Rick might have left me here too. I'd be stuck here.

My distress from earlier is forgotten as I gather my phone and other essential items. I rip a piece of the sheets, twist it into a makeshift bandage for my ankle. Maybe if I cover the wound, I can forget what I've done. I can't stay here, can't face the truth or the wreckage I've caused. I need a way to get Rick's attention, in case he's already left. So, I do the unthinkable—I reach for the lighter in my back pocket.

The flames dance, consuming the room. The food wrappers crinkle, the pain in my ankle forgotten. Smoke chokes me, but I don't care. The walls crackle, and I stumble toward the door. As I stumble out of the apartment, the inferno follows, licking at the walls, devouring memories and the past. As the building crumbles, I wonder if Rick will hear my silent cry.

As I walk away from my destructive handiwork, I watch as the once full-of-life city lies empty, with letters written by every citizen. I really hope Unity and Rick didn't fight because he needs to be in a good mood to bring me home. She deserves better, sure, but there's no telling her—I know myself—that the guy her heart wants is bad for her. I reach down to the nearest paper and see the opening line: "Rick, forgive me for doing this in notes." I just skim the thing. Fuck. That hits too close to home. I can feel the weight pressing down on my chest, and I try to ignore it. I just burnt those memories.

Okay, so what do I need? I need to get home, and if Rick leaves without me, that means I might be stuck here until Beth notices and tells him to come get me.

I look around, locating the building where I know Rick is. I start running, hoping against hope that he hasn't left yet. After about a minute, I stop running and return to walking swiftly because, fuck, I'm unfit. As I turn a corner, my face smacks right into what could be a chest. We both hit the floor with a pained "ouch."

I rub my head and look up to meet Rick's eyes. They aren't red, so he hasn't cried, but I can tell from the look in them—the somberness—that only those who really know him can feel. Those numb-looking eyes are filled with pain, a pain that only someone with the same lens can see.

"I thought you went home earlier, kid," he says, avoiding my gaze. It's obvious he's embarrassed because he knows I read the note. "No, I ran into some issues when you left me there," I reply. He winces.

Rick fucking Sanchez just winced. I stare, disabled. What is going on with him? It must have been Unity's notes. He just stares at me still before stating, "You read Unity's note, didn't you?"

I nod, my pulse racing. "Yeah. Messing with your head?"

He grunts, running a hand through unruly hair. "Like a bad hangover. But at least it's not a literal hangover. Those are worse."

"The amount you drink, don't you get them all the time?"

"To be hungover, you need to stop drinking." He circles, but it's void of his usual bravado.

My awkwardness bubbles up. "Sorry. I mean, it's just… I'm sorry about Unity. I mean, you liked her, I can tell, and to have her leave like that—well." I stop, my heart twinging. "I mean, you—you've basically mastered pushing people away, internally or not, but damn, just a note? That rough."

"Jeez, kid, way to psychoanalyze me." Rick's gaze hardens. "Yeah, well, she's not the first. My Diane and others—"

"Diane?" I interrupt. "Beth's mom? She died while you were gone, right?"

His eyes flicker. "Yeah, but well… I'm not originally from your universe," he admits. I finally look up, meeting his gaze. "In mine, she… well, she died much younger, because of me."

His words hang in the air as I process everything. I mean, I knew he wasn't from here thanks to Morty's exasperated rants to me, but still, like "Jesus," I say, making him laugh. "I don't think it was Jesus who did it, but yeah, I guess I'm just not meant for relationships. I'm just better off as a ladies' man."

I trace the edge of the note I'd picked up, my own scars throbbing. "I've only dated once, and it was a total disaster."

"Really?" he asks, almost laughing. "If you're calling that disastrous after hearing mine, then it must be bad."

"Well," I start, embarrassed that I've even brought up my almost irrelevant experience compared to his, "it still sucked."

He raises an eyebrow, silently urging me to continue.

"I liked him. We dated after a party kiss but I always initiated contact. When I stopped, he didn't reach out. Our relationship felt distant until he ended it over text when he was at some stupid baseball camp. It turned out he'd dumped me to kiss another girl at camp. 'It's not you; it's me and lets be friends' took on new meaning." I laugh to myself as Rick stares, not exactly interested, but he doesn't have his usual distance.

"And even then, after months of having a shit time being 'friends' with him, it took me a while to realize that when someone says they want to stay friends, they're really saying, 'Right now, I just want you to leave me alone, but I'll keep you at arm's length, just in case.' It took me six months to get over that, even with moving to a foster home across the country. I was just a naive girl who got trampled on. It may not be a big event in the grand scheme of things, but it affected me badly at the time, adding to my already troubled mental health. In the end, I spent over three months in a ward." I close my mouth, eyes winding, watching him calculate.

"You can't tell anyone that. Only Beth knows about the ward, and it's going to stay that way, okay?"

"Don't worry. You're a mess, kid, regardless of how silly that might be, and I'm not going to tell anyone. The best advice I can give you is to keep yourself as number one. And never let anyone come close to number ten. And if things get too real…" I definitely start to believe

EVE

SMITHS HOME

EARTH

We stepped through the portal into the hallway and walked together in silence. As we entered the living room, I decided to join Summer and Morty on the couch instead of heading to my room for once. But Beth intercepted Rick before he could retreat to his garage.

"Dad… um… Jerry and I were looking for our weed whacker and stumbled upon your subterranean lair. Your alien prisoner got away. I know this might sound like Mom, but I can't jeopardize our family's safety just because I'm afraid you'll leave again. So, no more alien prisoners, and no more subterranean excavation without consulting us."

"Okay." Rick's response catches me off guard, and Beth seems equally surprised.

"Okay? Y-y-y-yes, okay. Are you just going to quietly teleport somewhere and never come back?" Beth stammers.

Rick's tone remains steady. "No. It's your house."

Beth's confidence grows. "Well, in that case, if you're going to continue taking Morty on adventures, I think it's only fair if you bring Eve along. She's just as much a part of this family as Morty is."

Summer chimes in from the couch, "Hey, what about me?"

I'm too stunned to respond. I had discussed with Beth my desire to join Morty on adventures, but I never expected her to ask Rick directly. Is everyone acting strangely today? Did Rick slip something into our breakfast? No, that can't be it. Even he seems out of sorts.

Rick simply nods. "Okay." Then he walks out toward his garage.

I turn my attention back to Beth, who's nervously fidgeting with her hands. I rush over, wrapping my arms around her middle.

"Hey, hey, kid," Beth says, returning the hug.

"Thank you, Beth." And you know what? Things are really starting to like it here.

EVE,

SMITHS' GARAGE,

EARTH

"Hey Rick," I push open the door to find Rick asleep on his workbench next to a pile of ash and whatever machine he was probably working on. I shut the door behind me and approach as he stirs.

"Wh-wh-what?" He glances at the machine he must have been working on before looking at me again. "Fuck." He gets up, reaches into one of the cupboards, and pulls out a bottle of what could be any liquor known to the universe. Then he turns to me. "Why are you still here, Hope?

"Well," I began, ignoring the "Hope" comment as he rummaged through a drawer, "as Beth said the other day, I want to go with you and Morty sometimes, but I was really hoping I could watch you work."

"Watch me work? Why?" Rick raised an eyebrow.

"I find all the stuff you do cool, okay? I want to know how it works. And hell, I can just sit here, passing you tools. You don't have to let me do anything important, but I want to be here!" I rambled, finally cutting myself off when he looked up from his work. "There's a soldering iron over by the ash can. Can you get it for me?" I handed it to him. "You can sit on the stool over there."

I sit watching him working, his hands manipulating the machine—a world only he can see. When he hands me the bottle he had retrieved earlier, I take a swig and wonder if my visa to this world might have just been approved, or at least had started processing