Morty woke up in a dark metal room with his wrists chained to the center of the floor. His sole source of light was some strange looking red light over the only door in the room. Morty went to rub the sore spot on the back of his neck, only to be stopped short by the chain.
He tried to think of what had happened that led him here. The last thing he remembered was him and Rick meeting a guy for some type of black market deal. Morty wasn't sure if it was drugs or weapons, but honestly, he didn't want to know. They arrived at some bar for the meet, but the bouncer wouldn't let Morty in because of his age. Most places Rick took him to didn't give a shit about his age most of the time, but apparently, this one actually had rules about letting children drink. So he stayed outside and waited for his grandpa to finish whatever deal he had going on. That's the last thing Morty could remember before his memory went blank.
Sighing, Morty realized that someone had probably taken him while he was standing outside the bar. They most likely drugged him, given his foggy memory and the stinging in his neck. It was a safe bet that it was one of Rick's enemies who was too stupid to realize that he took his grandpa's cloaking device. Morty knew that was his most important role in these adventures, and that's the only reason why Rick bothers to come and save him when he does something stupid, like getting himself kidnapped.
Still, no matter how pathetic the reason was, Morty knew his grandpa would rescue him. Even if he would be complaining and bitching at his grandson for being an incompetent little bitch who couldn't stop himself from causing Rick trouble.
So when the door began to open, Morty genuinely expected to see his grandpa on the otherside with a gun in his hand with an annoyed expression on his face as he freed Morty.
He felt his stomach fall through the floor when an alien that Morty has never seen before stood there instead. When he first saw them he thought they might've been human until the red light proved him wrong. Despite having two arms and legs and one head that's where the similarities ended between the alien and himself. They had four narrow narrow eyes that sat tightly in their sockets and a thin mouth that almost looked nonexistent. As far as Morty could tell they didn't have a nose on their face. There were small horns jutting out of their shoulders and their skin looked somewhat sticky from what Morty could tell. For a brief second he thought about asking Rick if they were a form an alien reptile when he saw him again. The thought reminded him that Rick was coming for him. Morty just needed to be patient.
"You know Rick Sanchez." Their voice came out shockingly smooth since Morty half expected them to communicate through croaks. "You are close to him."
Although it wasn't a question, Morty felt compelled to answer. "He just, uhhm, I just tag along with him, uh, sometimes. I-I-I don't actually know, well um uh, understand what he, uh, does." He managed to stutter out. Morty knows the best thing to do in this situation is to play dumb and stall for time. He heard a voice that sounded a lot like Rick telling him it shouldn't be hard for him since he was an idiot.
The alien stepped into the room, shutting the door behind them without taking his four eyes off of Morty. They stepped closer until they were about a foot away from him. "Sanchez helped weaponized our enemies and laughed when we begged him for the same help. I lost my family and friends to a war that was lost as soon as he tipped the scales with his weapons." The alien reached for a strange looking device on his hip. Morty had a bad feeling as the alien loaded something inside and got in a offensive position. "So I took every single one of Sanchez' weapons off the bodies of my enemies as I left the battlefields in defeat. I promised that if I ever saw Sanchez again I would make sure he felt the pain my comrades felt as they died. I didn't think I would be able to truly show him what I felt because from what I knew he was alone without anyone whom he cared for. But the universe decided to give me my true retribution against my greatest enemy in the form of you. His grandson."
Those two words sent ice into Morty's veins. This alien wasn't just some guy who was made he got stiffed in a deal gone wrong. This was someone who lost everything because of Rick and he wanted Rick to feel that same pain. They wanted to hurt Morty with Rick's inventions to try and inflict the same pain onto his grandpa.
"No, no, no! You don't understand!" Morty began the pull against his restraints as the weapon was pointed in his direction. "Please you have to listen! I'm just a cloaking device! He doesn't actually care! You won't get you're revenge this way! NO!"
Morty's pleas fell onto deaf ears as they shot him rapidly four times. The only way Morty was certain of that number was because he felt each one go through his body. He dropped down to his knees and let out an inhuman howl of agony. He screamed and writhed in pain, trying to escape it somehow but it just kept following him now matter how hard he tried. He forced himself to open his eyes to see the damage only to see four perfect circles burned through his body. He felt all the air get sucked out of his as he realized he could see the floor through his thigh. All of the wounds had been cauterized from the heat of the blast so he wasn't bleeding out, but something about seeing an open wound not bleed was terrifying in it's own way.
Morty looked back up at the alien only to let out a pathetic whimper at the sight of his sharp teeth peeking out through that thin mouth. The bastard was smiling at the pain he was in and was taking pleasure in being the one to cause it.
As if they heard his thoughts the alien spoke up. "I might be the one pulling the trigger but you should remember, it is your grandfather's fault that you are in pain right now. If he had not made these weapons you wouldn't be here and my family would still be alive. This is Rick Sanchez' doing. Not mine."
With that they shot Morty twice more in the leg, watching with that same smile as he wailed in pain. Tears streaming down his face, Morty could barely do anything other than scream and throw his body around as he tried to get the pain to stop anyway he could. He was sure he was getting even more hurt in the process but he couldn't care less with agony searing through him once again.
Once Morty had gotten his breath back and stopped his insane attempts to alleviate the pain, the alien decided he was done with that weapon and moved on to another tool on their belt. Morty was soaked in sweat, his shirt sticking to his back in an uncomfortable way as his tried to reposition himself into a more comfortable spot that didn't send sparks of pain down his spine everytime he moved.
They pulled out a thin plastic handle that seemed harmless until they switched it on and a knife made of plasma shot out the end. Morty tried to move away as they stalked closer towards him, the chain restraining him preventing him from going too far. Suddenly they jumped on top of him and pinned him to the floor on his back.
This position reminded Morty too much of a certain jelly bean and he began to fight back much hard than before. Not caring about the knife or his injuries, Morty slammed his hands into the alien's face and tried to buck his weight off of him. His efforts were futile however and only ended up pissing off his captor even more.
Snarling, they pinned Morty's hands above his head with one hand and plunges the knife made of plasma in between his ribs. Morty lets out a suprised grunt from the feeling of being stabbed. It's not his first time getting stabbed but it still hurt no matter how hard he wished it wouldn't. It felt so sudden going in but he knew coming out it would feel like the inside of his body would go with it. Pulling and ripping until it was able to escape with the blade that freed it. Only they didnt pull the blade out. Instead they dragged it along the side of torso, the plasma slicing easily through his bones.
His vision began to black out and he was vaguely aware of some animal letting out some awful noise of pure suffering. It clicked in his brain a moment later that the animal that he heard was himself. The blade was ripped from his body suddenly, leaving him gasping and shaking. A cough gurgled from deep in his throat and the alien barely moved in time as Morty's blood splattered out of his mouth as his gagged around the coppery taste in his mouth.
Once he was done choking on his own blood, Morty felt himself start to pass out from the pain. He barely felt darkness' sweet embrace before he was suddenly seizing in a different type of pain. His eyes were screwed shut as all the muscles in his body rapidly clenched and released for a few unrelenting seconds. White exploded behind his eyelids as he slammed his head into the metal floor and his spine twisted unnaturally. After what felt like an eternity the electricity flowing through his body seemed to slowly stop. Even once the pain had subsided his muscles continued to jerk unconsciously.
Morty opened his eyes once more to see his captor pointing another type of gun at him. They were still smiling though not as much as when they started. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not but something in his gut told him that this could get worse than just being tortured.
Dropping the gun as if it were a toy they finished playing with, they started adjusting something on their hand. Something on it whirred to life with a green light illuminating the alien's knuckles. The color reminded Morty of Rick's portal gun and only made him think about how it was his grandfather who created the weapons being used to hurt him. He wasn't even sure if Rick was coming anymore. Afterall he got still has that Morty coupon to replace him. For all he knows, his grandfather had cut his losses at the bar and was already returning home with a new Morty.
Somehow the thought that Rick had abandoned him hurt worse than the pain he felt in his body. Still he had to hold onto the hope that Rick would show up otherwise Morty had nothing left to hope for to keep him alive. So as his captor began to beat him into unconsciousness with a pair of Rick's knuckle busters, Morty held on to hope that his grandpa would still save him.
Morty woke up after an unknown amount of time. He let out a pained groan and looked at his surroundings in confusion. When he woke up, at first he thought he was sitting in the garage with Rick. He had just had a bad dream while helping his grandfather work on a new project. It wasn't until all his injuries made themselves known that Morty remembered that he wasn't in the safety of his garage.
He was strapped to a chair with his shirt off. Normally, being so exposed would make him panic, but he was in so much pain he didn't think he would be able to panic if he wanted to. He could tell he was in a different room based on the lighting even if he couldn't really see out of one eye. That was concerning to him, but his hands were tied behind his back, so he couldn't inspect the damages.
He forced his head to look up to try and see his surroundings. He saw something that looked like a camera floating in front of him with a red light annoucing that it was recording. Turning his head, he saw his captor watching him patiently from the wall. Morty felt a sense of unease at being watched while he slept by a stranger.
Deciding to try and reason with them before they started again with the deadly tools they had laying across the table next to them. They were too far for Morty to make out their face with his limited vision, but he doubted that anything he said could make his situation worse.
"Hey, uh, what's your name?" Morty asked lamely. He felt ridiculous making small talk while it hurt to breathe, and he couldn't see out of one eye.
After a few beats of silence, Morty was sure that he wasn't going to get an answer. He was planning on trying something else before the alien's smooth voice interrupted his thoughts.
"They called me Shaxali."
Morty thought about asking who called them that, but he quickly remembered that they had lost everyone they've known. It probably wouldn't be the smartest to remind them about that.
"Well, uh, Shaxali? I don't know if you know this, but, um, Rick isn't going to come for me. He probably won't even care that I'm gone since it'll be easier to just get another Morty." Shaxali made no move and stayed silent. Nervously, Morty continued to ramble on, "I-I'm serious. I might, um, I get how it seems like his grandson, um, to you could be important to him. But uh, I'm just one version of his grandson, so it's super easy for him to just get a new Morty. You might as well let me go."
Once again, the silence felt unbearable as it stretched out even longer than before. Morty felt his blood lazily dripping down his side, tickling his skin in an uncomfortable manner. He gently tested his retraints despite how much his wrists ached against the metal chain. His retraints had no give, biting harshly into his already bruised skin. The whole time, his eyes never left Shaxali's face. He had a feeling that once he looked away, the torture would begin again.
"I don't expect Sanchez to rescue you." Shaxali's words confused Morty. He thought he was just bait to lure his grandpa into some trap or something. He didn't know what they were hoping to achieve by hurting Morty.
As if they knew the questions rolling around in Morty's head, Shaxali continued, "That became apparent after I sent him a message alerting him of your... situation. He has yet to even respond. I realized I wouldn't be able to have him witness as I tortured his grandson until you both begged for death."
They started to stalk towards him again, grabbing some type of weapon off of the table next to him. Feeling panic rise up in his chest, Morty began to struggle against his restrained wrists. He felt blood seep out of the wounds he had aggravated, but he couldn't stop. If he stopped, Morty would have nothing to distract him from the unavoidable suffering that was bound to continue.
"So I had to change my plans. If he isn't going to come himself, I'm going to make it so he can't ignore the pain he caused me anymore." Morty's eyes jumped from the camera to Shaxali as his mind started to piece it together. "He will be forced to witness as I inflict the same pain and suffering onto you with the weapons he made to kill my people."
Finally stopping their tracks next to the camera, Shaxali gave him an unnerving toothy smile. "This will record and play live inside Sanchez' ship. He will watch you scream and beg for mercy without being able to play God for once. Bending the universe to his will without caring about the consequences!"
They got more angry the more they spoke about Rick, spit, or mucas flying from his mouth. Morty watched in horror as they raised the weapon in their hand and pointed it directly at him. He couldn't even bring himself to care about being recorded for Rick to witness. The only thing he could focus on was the pain that was promised in Shaxali's words.
"No, no, no, please! Please, don't- aaAAAGGgh! " His pleas were cut off by the feeling of his ribs cracking under the pressure of something sharp slamming into his chest. Gasping for breath, he looked down at the strange looking thing clamped onto the skin of his left pectoral. Blood was dotting up where it had punctured the skin to latch on. The whole thing was still attached to the weapon in Shaxali's hand by a thin wire.
"Sanchez called this one, the lightening rod. Let's see if it cooks your bones like it did my brother's." Morty heard a click before his whole world turned to blinding white pain. He felt one of his wrists snap from how hard he was jerking. His neck snapped back in an almost impossible bend as he let out a gutteral scream.
His body continued to seize for what felt like hours. He hadn't even noticed when the device was shut off at some point. Tears were streaming down his face as Morty sobbed from the lingering agony Rick's weapon left him with. There was a copper taste in his mouth, and he was sure more blood had made its way into his lungs.
His head hanging low, he thought bitterly that his grandpa probably was drunk somewhere far away from his ship. He would have no clue what was happening to Morty until he was already dead.
He ended up crying even harder somehow, hyperventilating over the thought of dying somewhere in space. He knew his family didn't really need him, but Morty needed them as selfish as that was. Plus he always had Rick, even if it was just for his brain waves. Rick actually wanted him around and needed his help for adventures. His grandpa coming into his life was one of the best things that happened to Morty because he finally felt like he mattered to someone. He knew he was stupid and annoying sometimes, but he figured that his grandpa still would give a shit if he disappeared.
"Huh, your kind must be more resilient to electricity than mine. Guess that means I can try another one of your grandfather's weapons."
Morty let out a defeated whimper, knowing that he would die in pain. He always knew this is how he would die but somehow being here experiencing it is worse than anything he imagined. He didn't even bother to lift his head to see what new tool will be used to cause him more suffering.
He listened to the sounds of metal snapping together and footsteps walking towards him. He saw Shaxali's feet enter his vision and cringed away from the prescence. His hair was roughly grabbed and pulled his head into a more upright position. He saw a gauntlet of some type covering one of Shaxali's fists that wasn't holding his head up painfully. A dull ache set into his skull from action but he didn't have enough energy to ease up the pull.
"Is there anything you want to tell your grandfather before we continue?" Morty was really beginning to hate how calm and collected they sounded while he was spitting up his blood. Still he looked over at the camera and realized this might be his only opportunity to say goodbye.
"Rick? I-I don't know if uh you're even seeing this." Morty took a second to spit out a glob of blood that was rolling around in his mouth. "But if um, in case you are, you should know that uh I-I don't blame you for any of this. When you showed up um my life uh my life got better. Someone actually wanted me around and um needed me. So th-thanks."
Morty started coughing as he started crying again with renewed vigor. His throat constricted uncomfortably as he tried to steady his voice for his next words. "I-It's okay if you get a uhm a new Morty. It would um It would probably be better for the family. That way uh n-no one has to uh to know what happe-" His voice cracked on the final word as he broke down.
His hair was released after a few more moments of Morty sobbing to the camera. His head dropped down and his chin rested on his chest for a few moments before he forced his head back up on his own this time. He watched Shaxali in the corner of his eye wondering what they were waiting for.
"That was pathetic. Well, just be patient. You will be put out of your misery soon enough."
Shaxali reached back and brought the gauntlet down on Morty's collarbone. His throat felt raw and torn from screaming but that didn't stop him from howling in agony. His bones crunched and gave away under Shaxali's rapid assault, the sounds of his body breaking underneath another one of Rick's inventions. Morty knew that if he blacked out again this time he would die for sure.
He felt another one of his ribs give away at the same as something crashed into the room. Morty thought he had become delirious from the blood loss and was imagining the loud crashing and the sounds of metal tearing through metal. There was too much blood in his vision to see properly. The only thing that made sense was that Shaxali was preparing another one of his grandpa's weapons to show him a new way to feel pain.
He heard a gun go off near him, feeling the heat from the blast inches from his skin. Morty let out a cry thinking that Shaxali was wanting to scare him before he shoots him. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to prepare himself for whatever was about to come.
"Please, no more. Just kill me already. I can't take anymore, please." Morty sobbed out. He gave up on the hope that anyone would save him. Rick hadn't even bothered to answer Shaxali's message about his kidnapping. Morty didn't matter to anyone and no one cared that he was suffering.
He continued to cry, refusing to look at whatever weapon would be used to kill him. He felt a cold hand brush the blood off of his face, making him jerk away in fear. Everytime Shaxali touched him it only meant pain would follow. The hand retreated from his face and Morty flinched away preemptively expecting the strike.
He didn't expect his wrists to be released or to fall forward off the chair holding him. Morty was waiting for the ache of hitting the ground without slowing his fall with his hands or knees. But the pain never came. Instead he was caught by a familiar scent of alcohol and motor oil.
Finally deciding it was safe to open his only good eye, Morty saw blurs of white and blue in his vision. He felt hope flaring up in his chest that Rick had actually come to save him. That alone made him feel safe enough to finally let go of whatever was keeping him conscious. He didn't see Rick go pale at the feeling of Morty's body going limp or hear him scream Morty's name until his voice cracked.
Morty didn't think he would wake up again, but he did. He wasn't chained down by his wrists anymore or in some dark metal room. He was laying down on one of Rick's surgery beds in one of the underground labs. Morty couldn't immediately recall what this area's purpose was but he figured it was medical because of all the machines.
He turned his head to look around, half expecting Shaxali to be lurking just out of sight. Instead he saw Rick staring at him with a serious expression. His eyes were staring back into Morty's as if Rick could read his mind just through eye contact.
Deciding to be the one to break the silence, Morty smiled awkwardly at his grandpa. "Heeyyy..." Morty stopped and frowned at his slurred speech. He felt like he was talking through water or something.
Rick sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Morty with tired eyes. It was the first time Morty saw his grandpa show his age. "I gave you something to help with the pain while your bones grow back together. Plus I had to repair your broken eye socket and all those fucking holes in your body. Had to replace part of your lower intestine and a good chunk of your lung. In other words, you got really fucked up and I fixed you before you-" His grandfather stopped himself before he said what they both knew.
Morty almost died.
Morty blinked at Rick not really knowing what to say. He felt like there was something else bothering the man other than having to repair and replace about 65% of his grandson's body. Still hearing all of his injuries listed and what Rick had to do in order to fix it made him feel a little sick.
His grandfather took a swig of his flask, making Morty notice for the first time that Rick hadn't slurred his speech. He had stayed sober to focus on keeping Morty alive. Somehow that made Morty a lot more anxious than hearing about his bones regrowing.
"You should know, *burp* that one of the side effects of the pain killer, is feeling a little drunk." He took another swig before sitting forward and resting his arms on his knees. His eyes searched Morty's face before continuing without any humor in his voice, "But I feel like you deserve it. Since y'know, you begged me to kill you and all three days ago."
Morty felt the air get sucked out of the room with Rick's words. He looked away in shame, unable to meet his grandpa's eyes. "Aw geez Rick, I'm sorry. I think I, uh, I had some brain damage. I-I uh I didn't know who you were at first."
He felt cold fingertips brush his head. Normally such an action from his grandpa would comfort him, but this time it did the opposite. He jerked away from the hand as if it had burned him, almost throwing himself off the bed. The only thing that stopped him from falling was Rick grabbing him in time.
"Whoa, little buddy, calm down. It's just your grandpa Rick. It's only me and you down here. You don't have to worry about that asshole anymore." Morty stared up at his grandpa in panic for a few seconds before it registered that he wasn't going to be hurt anymore. He knew it was just Rick but something inside him refused to just accept that the torture was over. His breath was coming in and out way too fast and he knew he needed to calm down.
After he was certain that Morty wouldn't fling himself off the bed again, Rick stood up and got a bottle of water from a mini fridge he kept under the counter. He held out the bottle for Morty to take and patiently waited for his grandson to shakily reach out for it. Morty opened it and drank it slowly. Enjoying the feeling of the cool liquid going down his throat. He had no clue how long anything other than his own blood has gone down his throat. Setting the bottle on the side table by the bed, he took a couple deep breaths to settle his racing heart.
Morty looked back up at his grandpa feeling more calm than he did a few moments ago. Rick was staring at him with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He felt like there was more to be said between them but neither wanted to take the first step. Sighing, he looked down at his hands in his lap before breaking the silence.
"I was just in so much pain. The only thing in my brain that could stop it was, uh, death. Or uh maybe you but it um didn't feel like an option a-at the time. But I thought i-it uh you were the other guy, so it's not like I actually asked you, y'know?" Morty glanced up when Rick still hadn't said anything. He was shocked and somewhat scared when he saw that he looked pissed.
Rick must've seen that he was scaring Morty cause he groaned and angrily rubbed his face. He took another swig of his flask before stuffing it back in the pocket of his lab coat. He threw himself into the chair next to Morty's bed in frustration as he appeared to calm himself down by taking deep breaths that sounded a lot like grumbling.
Morty sat frozen in a mix of shock and fear waiting for whatever Rick decided to say or do. He didn't have to wait long until Rick regarded him with the same tired face he woke up to. "Morty, did you forget that I watched you get tortured live until I crashed into his ship? Cause I didn't. I remember watching you scream in agony from my own inventions. I saw your skeleton, Morty. That is something I will remember for the rest of my life."
Laughing bitterly, Rick sighed and rubbed his face. "Y'know the worst part, Morty? Was when you told me it was okay to just let you die and replace you. The cherry on top of the shit pile was just you begging me to kill you when I did show up. Yeah, that really made the whole night a new level of Hell I can say I haven't experienced before."
"Rick, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Morty didn't know what else to say as the dam finally broke and he began to disgustingly sob in front of Rick. He kept repeating broken apologies as he pushed his palms into his eyes to stop the tears. He ignored the pain that shot up from touching his recovering eye and pressed harder hoping it would help somehow.
Rick stood and climbed onto the side of the bed, wrapping his arms around the shaking boy and pulling him against his chest. Morty accepted the comfort, forgetting the fear he felt moments ago because of Rick. He wrapped his arms around his grandpa's torso and cried into his chest. Rick let him get snot and tears all over his shirt as he ran his fingers through Morty's curls.
Morty sat there sniveling in Rick's arms, not really knowing why this was impacting him the way it was. He always knew that traveling with Rick would probably lead to a gruesome and early death. He made his peace with that a long time ago. Or at least he thought he did.
Once he had calmed down enough, Rick gently pulled away just enough to face his grandson. Keeping one arm wrapped around Morty's shoulders, he looked down at Morty. "Did you really think that I wouldn't come and get you?"
Morty heard the genuine hurt behind the question and looked off to the side of his grandpa. He shrugged his shoulders lamely, not quite able to meet Rick's eyes.
"Aw geez Rick, I mean at first, I uh felt sure you would show up. But the longer I waited the harder it was to hold on to the idea that I was, um, important enough for you to come get me. Plus you-you've even told me that you can just replace anyone in the family at any time. Hell we've even done it together. I-I uh I know that I'm not special and you could just adventure with any Morty."
At some point during his response fresh tears began rolling down his cheeks anew. He didn't have the energy to stop them nor did he care anymore about being too ashamed to cry in front of Rick. It felt pointless after everything his grandpa witnessed these past few days.
"Oh, Morty." Rick held on to him tighter than before, making Morty look at him. He had his own tears welled up in his eyes, but it was obvious that it was taking everything in him not to let them fall. "I will always come and get you. Whenever you need me, or hell even if you don't, you can always count on me to be there."
His grandpa released his hold a bit and leaned over to cough into his hand. He pulled out his flask to take a quick drink before putting it away again. He still refused to meet Morty's eyes when he gruffly added, "Plus you're the only one in the, *burp* the family who doesn't suck. It's easy to replace those losers. But you're different, Morty. You keep me sane when things get fucked and keep me grounded when I get too obsessed with shit. I mean, you've seen the worst side of the universe yet you still go out with me on adventures. Even though, it's clearly fucking you up..."
Morty had a feeling he knew where Rick was going with this conversation as it started turning towards their adventures. He felt a sinking pit in his gut as he quickly sat up more straighter and pushed himself away from Rick.
"No, Rick, please don't stop taking me with you on adventures." His stutter had disappeared as it usually did when he speaking passionately about something he believed in. "They are the only thing that make my shitty life matter. My family basically ignores me and I get that. They are all too fucked up to think about anyone other than themselves. Summer might be a little different but she ultimately only gives a shit about others if there is something in it for her. I'm just an idiot brother and son that only serves as their doormat on their bad days."
"But I've helped fight in wars, I've been to different planets and dimensions, I know to use a portal gun, and I've won fights. I've done more than I've ever thought I could do, with you. Please Rick, I don't know what I will do of we stop."
Staring at Morty with wide eyes and a furrowed brow, Rick looked a mix of shocked and confused. "The fuck are you talking about, Morty? I was just gonna say that we probably should take a break for a week or two while you heal up. I wasn't going to fucking stop taking you on adventures. I just fucking said I need you. Fucking dumbass."
Rick moved off the bed and went to check on one the monitors hooked up to Morty. He refilled his flask while he typed something out and stared at whatever appeared on the screen. Morty finally relaxed knowing that Rick still wanted to take him on adventures. They just had to wait for him to heal up first. Morty flexed his arms and checked for the hole in thigh. Realizing that he no longer felt sore and all the damage to his body was gone, he began to wonder what Rick meant by healing.
"Uh, Rick?"
His grandpa made a gruff noise of acknowledgement while he studied whatever was on the monitor. He seemed to be focused on whatever reading he was looking at but when Morty stayed silent he looked over at him with his brow raised.
"What is it, Morty? If you couldn't tell I'm trying to make sure your bones are back at 100% instead of being a shattered mess inside your mangled flesh." He was clearly annoyed making Morty more nervous to ask his question.
"I, uh, I seem fine. I know it's doesn't take long for my, um my bones to regrow. So, um so what's the uh the point of waiting a week? Won't I be fine by tomorrow?"
Rick looked away, taking a very long drink from his just refilled flask. He continued to focus on the screen making Morty wonder if he was being ignored. Finally Rick sighed and looked down at the desk beneath his hands before he responded.
"Morty, I know how long it takes to adjust after being tortured. I've been through it before and you're still adjusting to being safe again. You freaked out earlier when I touched you, and I should've known better than to do that. Because I've been where you are right now Morty. I've been scared shitless waiting for the next shoe to drop and the pain to continue. Not being able to trust yourself or the people around you the way you once did because how could you after basically waiting to slowly die in pain. You're body might heal but you're mind will take some time."
Morty sat with the information his grandpa had just revealed to him. Thinking back to how afraid he felt when Rick got angry. He has seen his grandpa pissed before but it usually doesn't bother him much. It certainly has never made him freeze in fear of Rick doing something. Still he didn't expect Rick to be so open about his own experiences dealing with the after effects of being tortured. He has known Rick has dealt with his own share of suffering before he crashed into Morty's life, but hearing it from the man himself made it more real.
"Did you, uh, did you want to die when you were, um, when you were tortured?" Morty looked over at his grandpa hoping this was okay to talk about.
"Not at first but yeah I did, Morty. I thought about it a lot before I managed to escape." Rick turned suddenly and faced him, looking a mix of frustrated and hurt. He started towards him but this time more slowly so Morty wouldn't startle again. "But I almost didn't escape, Morty. Because I had given up on the hope of living, I stopped trying to getting the fuck out of there. I only got out based on pure luck and you know how I feel about fucking luck, Morty."
He stopped next to Morty's bed and grabbed the rail of his bed with white knuckles. He sighed to calm himself down before he went on just as seriously, "That's why if something like that happens again Morty, which I hate that it proably will happen again," He paused to rub his face in exasperation. "But when it does happen, you can't give up hope that you're going to get out. Whether you're planning something on your own or if you need to just wait for me to show up, you need to keep fighting to live. Otherwise you might not get lucky again."
Morty wondered what kind of answer he was expecting because it certainly wasn't the one Rick gave him. He sat deep in thought for a few moments while Rick stood by his bed slowly calming down from his tirade.
Morty remembered how hopeless and empty he felt before Rick showed up to rescue him. The only things that went through his mind were pain and waiting for more pain. He couldn't even really focus on his family or Rick outside of hoping they got a good Morty to replace him. Just thinking about it made him feel depressed. Maybe Rick had a point about waiting for a little bit before he goes back out to the dangers of space. Morty might need some time to readjust to being home. It feels like it will be a little harder to learn how to not give up when things seem hopeless, but he will have to try. If only because his grandpa needed him to and hopefully one day Morty will be able to try for himself.
He slowly reached out and covered Rick's tense cold hand with his shaking bandaged one. Rick looked over at him in confusion, but didn't move away from the small hand. Steeling his resolve he looked up at his grandpa and promised sincerely, "I'll try, Rick. Promise."
Rick stared back at his grandson for a few seconds before giving him a small smile. "Good."
They stayed like that for a little bit longer, with Morty's hand covering Rick's. Both of them taking comfort in each other's prescence after everything they've went through. Rick feeling relieved that Morty is safe and Morty feeling reassured about his place with his grandpa. Eventually though Rick slipped away and went back to work on the monitors attached to Morty.
Morty watched for a few minutes like he usually does when Rick works on inventions in the garage. It was always interesting to watch him work and most of the time Morty would learn something from helping. But since Rick was technically working on him instead of an invention, Morty was stuck just watching instead of actively helping.
Feeling a little bit tired from watching Rick work in silence, he started to instinctively fight the urge to close his eyes and go to sleep. Sitting up a little bit more in his bed, Morty reached over and drank some water to wake himself up.
A part of him knew that not wanting to sleep was probably from what happened, but he couldn't help that sense of fear that came from feeling tired. Morty just didn't want to go to sleep and wake back up chained with Shaxali watching him. His brain was working more slowly than usual from the exhaustion and the pain killer so he couldn't logically understand the reason behind his fear was irrational. Stretching out his shoulders and arms, he gently smacked his cheeks to wake up.
"HEY!" Morty almost jumped out of his skin, at the sound of Rick shouting. Immediately turning to face him, his eyes were wide from fear and shock. Rick was scowling at him angrily from where he stood by the monitors.
"Don't do that." His voice was quieter but he still sounded angry to Morty. He continued to stare, too worried to move or say anything just yet. "I just repaired your stupid face, don't go fucking hitting it like a dumbass."
Rick and him continued their stare down until, Morty finally broke and looked down at his hands. He felt more awake after hearing Rick yell, but he had this lingering fear that refused to disappear. Hearing the sounds of Rick typing and a flask being unscrewed open made him relax a bit.
After a few more minutes of messing around with the monitor, Rick coughed to get his grandson's attention. Morty's head snapped his direction instantly after hearing the noise. With him now watching, Rick started walking back towards his bedside. It took a few seconds to realize that he got his attention so Morty wouldn't panic hearing someone walk towards him. For some reason that's what made it sink in that Morty was safe with Rick. He was showing him that he cared without saying anything or making Morty feel like a burden.
Drinking from his flask, Rick slumped into the chair next to Morty's bed. Keeping the alcohol in one hand, he looked over and stared at Morty for a minute or two before loudly burping to break the silence.
"You not tired yet? I pushed some of the good shit to help you sleep. Should be passed out experiencing some cool pain killer dreams right now. Not staring at me with wide eyes and hitting yourself awake." Rick sounded slightly annoyed that Morty wasn't taking better advantage of being doped up.
Lifting his arm, Morty felt a bit of a haze as his arm seemed to move in slow motion in front of him. He didn't even notice his brain had been slowly feeling as if it was filled with cotton and his thoughts getting harder to focus on. The only thing he knew was that if he went to sleep, something bad would happen again.
Morty sat there staring back for a minute or two before he realized a question was asked. "Uh, sorry." He paused to smack his lips, thinking his tongue was in the wrong place for talking. Ignoring it for a moment, he regained his focus back on Rick. "Um, what's the question, again?"
Rick snorted at him before looking at him with an amused smirk. "Why aren't you sleeping, doofus? Clearly, you're doped up on cloud 9 right now. If you think by staying awake, I'm gonna give you more. y'know you just gotta ask. Grandpa always has the good shit." He paused to take another drink, seeming to consider something while he swirled around the liquor in his mouth before swallowing. "But right now isn't the right time to get high, Morty. You need sleep if you wanna recover faster."
Morty blinked at Rick in response. His brain took a few extra seconds to fully comprehend what was being said to him. Once he finally understood that he was being told to sleep, he started to shake his head no.
"I can't sleep. Otherwise, I might wake up, and you'll be gone again. Then I'll have to deal with four eyes hurting me again. I don't wanna do that again, Rick. I don't want to wake up and go back there." Morty felt tears well up in his eyes and tried to blink them away. He was tired of crying, and he didn't need Rick thinking he was too much of a crybaby.
"Well, I can already tell you're gonna be an emotional drunk." Rick sighed and stuffed his flask in his coat pocket. Making sure Morty was watching him, he slowly reached over to rub his brown curls. "And you know that's not how sleeping works, right? I know you're not that stupid. When you wake up, you will still be here in the lab, and I will be in this chair getting scoliosis, keeping an eye on you."
Morty stared at Rick for a few seconds before his brain finally understood what he was saying. "Wait, so you're gonna stay here? Why?"
"You don't want me to?"
"No, I do." Morty said slowly as he realized he would prefer Rick stay. He didn't even feel ashamed to admit it, given everything that's happened. But he didn't want to force him to just because he was feeling weak and scared. "But you don't need to. I'm 15, so I shouldn't need someone to watch over me. Plus, I'm sure you'd rather go back to bed."
Rick sighed but continued to pet Morty's curls in a manner that only aided in making the teen more sleepy. "No, I don't need to. And I know that you are old enough to go to sleep without someone to protect you. But can you honestly tell me that if I left, you would be able to go to sleep without being scared of that reptilian bastard coming back from the dead?"
When Morty looked away and didn't respond, that was all the confirmation Rick needed that he did need to stay. Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, he pulled out his phone to dim the lights. He set it down for a moment to pull the blanket up around Morty and to get more comfortable while keeping one of his hands occupied with soothing his grandson's curls.
"Just go to sleep, kid. Don't worry about me, and for once, just listen to me. I will be right here in case you need me. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."