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"SUMMER! I CHOOSE SUMMER!"
Those words echoed through Morty's head on repeat. He was faintly aware of Rick standing in front of him, working to free him from the trap he'd been confined in. Two arms lifted him out of the bubble, but he didn't react, even when Rick set him down and knelt in front of him.
How could he?
He'd just learned that his life meant virtually nothing to their mother and she was ready to sacrifice him at a moment's notice if it meant Summer lived.
"Morty?" The catatonic state his grandson was in was extremely concerning and Rick gently brushed his fingers against Morty's arm, but it got no reaction. "You okay, buddy?"
No, he wasn't okay.
"Morty?"
That was Summer's voice and the pity in her tone filled him with rage. He knew it wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault Beth didn't love him, but he still stayed silent, not wanting to snap at her for their mother's admission of favoritism.
"I'm fine." A hand suddenly brushed his shoulder, a hand that didn't belong to either Rick or Summer, and Morty violently flinched away from it, colliding into Rick in his haste to get away. He was faintly aware of Rick's hands on his shoulders, moving Morty behind him, and he gratefully used Rick's tall frame to block his mother from view. "DON'T! Don't touch me."
It took all of Rick's willpower to keep his face passive, though his eyes narrowed as he glanced from Beth to Morty. She looked devastated and he looked terrified, despite his previous claim of being "fine". Something had clearly happened before he'd shown up, but nobody seemed willing to talk about it. However, if his grandson was this scared to be near Beth, let alone be touched by her, Rick knew there had to be a good reason for it. "Geez, the fuck is wrong with you guys?"
"Well, Mom-"
"Nothing! Everything is fine." Morty shut down that conversation before it could even begin. He didn't want to think about it anymore and he most certainly didn't want to talk about it. "Can we just go home now?"
"Morty, honey-"
Morty knew she probably wanted to explain herself away, but he didn't want to hear whatever lame excuses she was going to come up with. He couldn't even stand to look at his mom right now. Every time he did, her words replayed through his mind and he wanted to throw up at her now concerned tone. "Just leave me alone."
When it was clear their mom wasn't willing to back off, Summer stepped in front of Morty to keep her from getting any closer. "God, just drop it, mom!"
The second Rick opened a portal, Morty was dashing through it and it was only when Summer went through that Rick stopped Beth. "What happened, sweetie?"
"Nothing." Her answer was far too immediate and panicked to be truthful. "They are just shaken up, that's all."
Rick didn't believe her for a second as he followed her through the portal and he immediately headed further into the house, fully intending to find out what happened from his grandkids. He could hear Summer and Morty's voices in the living room and, as terrible as it was, he waited just outside the doorway to listen in on their conversation.
"Morty, I'm so sorry. I-"
"It's fine, Summer. I..... I don't.... d-d-don't fucking care." She started to say something else, but Morty interrupted her, his voice irritated. "Look, I don't wanna talk about this anymore. Just let it go, okay?"
Morty suddenly came through the doorway into the kitchen and he let out a startled yell as he ran straight into Rick. "Oh, heeeey, R-rick. What's, uh..... what's up?"
"You wanna tell me what the hell happened back there?" He wasn't going to get an answer from Morty. Just based on his shifting eyes and nervously fidgeting fingers, Rick knew his grandson was trying to think up some kind of convincing lie.
"N-nothing. That alien just wanted mom to sacrifice us." It wasn't completely a lie. He had wanted Beth to sacrifice one of her kids and Morty now knew where he stood in his mother's life. "Can we get out of here? Please."
Based on Morty's earlier panic when Beth grabbed him, he figured this was Morty's way of trying to put some distance between them and Rick wasn't going to deny him that. "Sure, buddy. Why don't we go to the Gloppydrop system and get some ice cream."
~
Morty couldn't sleep.
He knew it was late. He should have been asleep in bed, but he was haunted by his mother's words every time he closed his eyes.
So he got out of bed and headed downstairs, hoping Rick would still be awake and in the garage. However, as soon as he opened the garage door, he was met with only darkness, which meant Rick had gone to bed for the night. Morty quietly shut the door and wandered into the kitchen, planning to get a glass of water.
As he neared the sink, his eyes landed on the empty wine glasses on the counter. There was four of them, all of them undoubtedly from his mother, and he knew Beth had likely gotten drunk to forget what she had done.
Morty wished he could do that. Just drink all his problems away and forget his fuck ups.
His eyes flicked down to the cupboard, where he knew his mother's wine stash was, and he realized he technically could do it. His mother would be fucking furious when she found out, but given that she was the cause of Morty's suffering right now, he didn't really think she had any room to complain. If she didn't want Morty stealing her alcohol, she should lock it up. Or maybe just be a better mom.
This was a bad idea, a terrible idea.
Even so, he still found himself drawn to that cupboard. When he opened the cabinet door, the moonlight filtered in through the kitchen window and the green glass of the bottled glowed under the moonbeam.
The bottle was cold in his fingers as he picked it up and he was surprised by the weight of it. He uncorked the bottled and brought it up to his nose. It smelled strong and he couldn't help wrinkling his nose at it. Before he could lose his nerve, he brought the bottle up and took a swig out of it.
He cringed as he swallowed a mouthful.
It was absolutely awful.
But Morty had seen how easily his mother, and Rick, could forget their problems after a few drinks. Morty desperately craved that kind of ignorance.
So he kept drinking.
The bottle he had grabbed was already half empty, so it didn't take long for him to finish it. With a nice buzz in his head, he decided he was going to be petty. He put the cork back in the bottle and, after grabbing another fuller bottle, set the empty one back in the cupboard.
He wandered out to the garage and flipped the light on, taking a seat in the rolling chair. He knew Rick kept alcohol hidden within the garage and wondered if he could find something better tasting than Beth's crappy red wine.
He opened all the secret compartments he knew of and, on his fourth one, found a clear bottle full of a light liquid. He removed the cap from the bottle and immediately pulled it away from his face at the strong smell coming from it. If Rick enjoyed it though, Morty assumed it couldn't taste all that bad and he took a small swig of it.
He almost spit the liquid out and coughed harshly when he swallowed. It tasted the way antiseptic smelled and Morty double checked the label to make sure he wasn't actually drinking antiseptic.
Morty may not have enjoyed the taste of the wine, but it was definitely better than whatever the hell Rick was drinking. He set the bottle down on the counter, deciding he'd come back to it later if he was still desperate for a stronger drink.
He reached for the wine and his fingers closed around the neck of the bottle, but it slipped from his hands and he watched in horror as it loudly shattered on the garage floor, spilling wine everywhere.
Fuck.
Morty quickly grabbed some rags Rick kept under the counter and began scrubbing at the mess on the floor. For some reason, the crimson puddle seemed to be getting larger and it was only then that Morty realized he was bleeding.
A lot.
There was a shard of green glass stuck deep in his palm and several smaller shards stuck in both hands.
"Shit. Shit shit shit!" As tempting as it was to just leave this mess and blame it on Beth, Morty knew it would only take a few questions to find out the truth and then he'd likely be in trouble, both with Rick and his parents. So he kept scrubbing at the mess on the floor.
All he had to do was clean it up and no one would ever know.
He froze as he heard the door suddenly open behind him and he knew, without a doubt, that he must have woken Rick up.
"R-r-rick...." He didn't turn around and prayed to whatever God existed that it wasn't his grandfather.
"Morty? What the FUCK?!"
It seemed nobody had heard his prayers.
Morty tried to fight the tears welling up as he turned around. Rick was in a white T-shirt and a pair of boxers, meaning he had indeed just crawled out of bed. His grandpa looked absolutely pissed.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? Is that my vodka? And Beth's wine? You've been drinking?!" Rick didn't want to believe it. Morty had never shown an interest or any signs of underage drinking, but it was hard to ignore the ugly truth staring him in the face. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Morty?"
Morty couldn't bring himself to meet Rick's gaze. The anger and disappointment there was too overwhelming.
"You've got ten seconds to explain yourself, Morty. Or I go wake your parents."
"NO!" Morty hadn't meant to shout and he winced at the volume of his own voice. He knew his mom had been drinking tonight and there was no telling what kind of state she'd be in if Rick woke her up. "I... I'm sorry.... I j-j-just.... I wanted it to stop. I can't..... c-c-can't stop thinking about.... about Titan."
Saturn's moon.
Rick knew something had happened, despite everyone's insistence that he was worrying about nothing. He let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand down his face as he tried to figure out what to do. "Alright, come here, you thieving alcoholic."
Morty started to push himself up from the floor, but let out a loud hiss of pain as the forgotten shard of glass buried itself deeper in his hand. More blood seeped out of the wound and Morty felt sick as he watched it stain his white pajama shorts. He couldn't stop the tears welling up, both at the pain in his hand and at the emotional state the alcohol had left him in. "Ow, owww OWWWW! Fuck!"
The anger immediately faded from Rick's expression as he realized Morty was injured, that it wasn't only wine on the floor, but a mix of wine and blood.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Morty." Rick crossed the room in a few strides and lifted his grandson up from the floor, sidestepping around the mess on the floor to deposit him onto the countertop. "You are so fucking lucky I'm the one you woke up and not your mom. Let me see your hand."
When Morty held his hand out, Rick cringed at the glass embedded deeply in his palm. He also didn't miss the fact that both of Morty's hands and arms had tiny shards of glittering green glass stuck in them. He gripped the big chunk of glass and began to remove it, but he didn't get very far.
"HOLY SHIT!" Morty ripped his hand out of Rick's and clutched it against his chest, squeezing his eyes shut against the horrible throbbing he could feel in his palm. "Fuck, Rick! That hurts.... s-so fucking bad."
"I know it hurts. But I can't leave you with glass in your hand."
Morty hesitantly returned his hand to Rick's grip and squeezed his eyes shut as his grandfather tried once more. Morty cried out as the shard of glass was suddenly ripped out of his hand and he began to feel lightheaded as he watched blood pour from the wound. "O-oh my g-god."
"Hey! Stop looking at it. I don't need you passing out on me." He grabbed the healing gel, applied a thin layer over the still bleeding wound, and then wiped the remaining blood away once the wound had sealed up. With the massive cut in Morty's palm now gone, Rick grabbed a pair of tweezers from the counter and began the slow process of removing the remaining shards of glass from Morty's skin. "You wanna tell me what happened on Titan?"
Rick's voice was gentle and when Morty looked down at his grandpa's face, he could only see concern in his expression. As much as Morty didn't want to spill the humiliating, heartbreaking truth, he just couldn't keep it inside anymore. "He w-w-wanted mom to.... to choose. Save one kid and... and sacrifice the other. She.... sh-sh-she chose Summer over me. Just blurted Summer's name out, no hesitation."
Morty would never forget how quickly she'd yelled his sister's name or the apologetic look Summer gave him immediately afterwards. "She.... she.... was just ready to let me die, like.... like she didn't give a fuck about me."
So that is what happened before Rick showed up.
"Nobody gives a fuck about me." Morty's dad thought he was special needs, his mom apparently didn't care if he died so long as Summer lived, and Rick considered him a moronic little sidekick. Despite treating him nicely all day, obviously because of what had happened on Titan, Summer usually found him to be a nuisance too.
Morty's voice was barely a whisper, but Rick didn't miss that statement. He opened his mouth to refute that, but Morty suddenly picked up the vodka bottle sitting on the counter and used all his strength to hurl it across the room. Rick flinched as it exploded in a shower of glass against the wall and he immediately grabbed Morty by the arm. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Morty?!"
"Fuck off, Rick! You don't give a fuck either, so stop acting like you do." Morty jumped off the counter and stumbled his way past Rick on shaky legs, but he didn't make it more than five steps before he was collapsing to his knees.
Rick closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh as Morty began gagging and then vomited up everything he'd drunk. There was no way he was going to let his grandson go upstairs like this, clearly still drunk and smelling like a seedy backwater bar.
"Morty?" Rick knelt down next to his grandson and gently wrapped an arm around Morty's chest as he slumped forward, keeping him from falling into his own vomit. "Let's get you cleaned up, buddy. Then Grandpa will give you his hangover cure and you can sleep this off."
Morty didn't struggle as Rick picked him up and he let his head rest on Rick's shoulder, eyes closing against the fluorescent lights that were now making his eyes hurt for some reason. He was aware that they were leaving the garage, but he had no idea where Rick was going. "Are y-y-you... you mad at me, Rick?"
Yes.
That's what he wanted to say. But how could he? He and Beth were terrible influences, both in terms of role models and coping mechanisms. Morty had likely only turned to booze because he'd seen them do it. The only thing he was truly mad about was Morty breaking his full bottle of vodka, but he couldn't bring himself to react. Not when Morty was so fragile right now. "No, I'm not mad. I'm just.... disappointed."
And wasn't that such a parental thing to say.
Morty must have thought the same thing because Rick could feel a growing wet spot on his shoulder as tears soaked into the fabric of his T-shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm-"
"Just take it easy, Morty. Don't work yourself up, okay?" He brought Morty to the downstairs bathroom and set him down just inside the doorway. "Take a shower. I'll be here when you're done."
As soon the door shut behind him, Morty stripped out of his pajamas and stepped into the shower. He turned the water on and stood under the scalding spray, but made no move to clean himself. He had no idea how long he stood there, but it was long enough for the heat to leave the water and, before he knew it, Rick was suddenly at his side and scrubbing him down with a washcloth.
"You let the water get cold."
"I'm sorry." He had a lot to apologize for tonight, however Rick simply shushed him and Morty remained silent as he was scrubbed clean.
Rick had already made up his mind.
As soon as they woke up later today, he was going to use the mindblower to erase this experience, not only from Morty, but also from his daughter and granddaughter. For now though, he'd give Morty his hangover cure and then get him to bed.
He briefly left the bathroom to go get both the hangover cure and some clean pajamas for Morty and when he returned, he handed his grandson a glass filled with a bubbly blue liquid. "Here. This will keep you from getting hungover."
Morty took the glass and slowly sipped at it while Rick helped dress him in clean clothes. He'd been skeptical of the drink, but it had a nice fruity taste and it eased the headache Morty hadn't even realized he'd started getting.
"Let's get you to bed, buddy."
Morty let Rick lead him out of the bathroom, but he couldn't figure out why they weren't heading towards the stairs. "My bedroom is upstairs, Rick."
"I know." He wasn't going to let Morty out of his sight tonight. The last thing he wanted was to put Morty upstairs, only for his grandson to start drinking again and end up with alcohol poisoning. If Morty slept in his room, Rick would be able to keep an eye on him and he would most definitely wake up if Morty tried to sneak out for another drink. So he led the way to his room and eased Morty down onto the cot in the corner of the room. "You can sleep in Grandpa's room tonight. Scooch over, cause I'm not sleeping on the floor."
Morty moved over long enough for Rick to lay down and then curled up against him. His grandpa was usually the only person to indulge Morty with affection and he hummed with contentment when an arm wrapped around him and gently rested on his back. "Mmmn, you're warm, Rick."
"And you're a leech. Go to sleep, buddy. I'll be here when you wake up." It didn't take long for Morty to pass out, likely both from exhaustion and the alcohol he'd consumed, and Rick gently brushed his fingers through Morty's hair as he tiredly watched his grandson sleep. "Just so you know, I do give a fuck, Morty. More than you know."