Chapter Text
Rick watched as Morty stumbled back up the stairs, clutching his stomach as if he was going to throw up everywhere any second. When Morty reached the top of the stairs and disappeared into the dark hallway he turned his attention fully to Beth, who was talking about a failed heart surgery. He didn’t pay any mind to what she was saying, and he didn’t try to appear like he was.
“Well that’s nice sweetie, but I have things to go d- *insert burp sound here*-ooo. So I’ll talk to you later, s-sweetie.” Rick said as he pushed himself out of his chair abruptly.
“D-dad, wait! Before you go, can you not take Morty anywhere this time? He’s been acting weird ever since your last adventure and, I’m worried…” Beth said pleadingly. Slightly worried that Rick would get upset with her.
Rick paused, seemingly in thought before responding. “Yeah, of course honey. W-whatever you want sweetie.” Rick said in a rush before walking away to the garage.
“Thank you dad!” Beth yelled after him.
Rick closed the garage door behind him before sitting at the counter. So that’s what this is about. I was hoping that not taking him on any adventures would let him rest and get over it or something… Fuck, okay. Rick sighed as he pushed his chair out into the middle of the garage and spun in it once. The spinning stopped and he faced the door. I’m gonna need some stronger alcohol for this shit.
Rick gets out of his chair and exits the garage. He makes his way to his bedroom and closes the door. Making his way over towards his not so subtly hidden stash, he goes to grab a bottle and notices something out of place. A bottle is missing, and not only that but some of his drugs are missing. At first he brushed it off, assuming that Summer took some for a party. He almost forgot about it, and instead started thinking about Morty.
Clearly that thing with king shit face is still affecting him. He’s been in his room all week. But that doesn’t explain why he’s acting like he’s hungover. Rick’s thoughts paused for a moment before everything clicked. Goddamnit Morty… God fucking damnit!
Rick got off of his bed and sighed before chugging down the entire bottle. He stormed out of his room and headed up the stairs towards Morty’s room. He stopped at Morty’s door before walking in. He didn't know what he would say to him. Reprimand him for stealing from him? That wouldn’t do anything, if anything it would just make him steal from someone else. He paused as he heard the shower start. He listened closer and heard Beth downstairs, so Morty must be the one in the shower. Abandoning any ideas he may have decided on earlier he entered Morty’s empty room and closed the door.
Upon entering he immediately saw the evidence that Morty was the culprit. The missing bottle lay empty on his desk and the bag on the floor also empty. He could smell the putrid scent of the alcohol wafting around the room mingling with the scent of sweaty teenager. Particularly around the shirt he was wearing yesterday. Rick walks over to the shirt and picks it up. Yep, that checks out. The dirty yellow shirt sporting a giant stain on the front from the alcohol.
Rick picks up the bag and the bottle, setting them on Morty’s bed. He begins to pick up Morty's room a little. He portaled himself and all of Morty’s dirty clothes to the washing machine and started a load. When he got back to Morty’s room, he sat on his bed and waited.
A few minutes later Morty walks into his room in clean clothes, holding his dirty ones in his arms. He closes his door while staring at the floor, not noticing Rick yet. He looks up from the floor to put his clothes in his clothes bin and startles, dropping his clothes on the floor.
“Jeez Rick! Y-you scared me!” He paused suddenly, remembering where they were. “W-what are you doing here R-rick?” Morty looks around nervously, noticing his clean room and a distinct lack of, certain items. He looks back at Rick sheepishly.
“Morty, do you think I'm stupid? Did you think that I wouldn’t notice?” Rick spat out. He tossed the empty bottle to Morty. Morty barely caught it, but when he did he just looked down at the floor. “Well Morty?” Rick stared at Morty, his gaze intense.
“I don’t know Rick… I’m sorry.” Morty sounded pitiful, and he looked pitiful too. His hair was still damp and dripping on his clothes. His eyes looked sunken in and he looked skinnier than he was a week before. As Rick looked at him, his eyes softened slightly and a small amount of guilt built up in his chest.
“I just want to know why, Morty. Why did you think that this would be okay? That it would be good for you or help you at all??” Rick sounded almost desperate for an answer. He didn’t want Morty to end up like himself after all.
It was silent for a while as Morty tried to think of a way to defend himself. But he knew there was no use. Rick would see through any lie he came up with. “I just, I-” Morty sighed as his eyes started to water and his voice wobbled. “I just wanted to forget, everything. I-i know that you drink to forget, so I thought that if I did, it would make things better. That I could get over it faster.” Morty paused. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore Rick…” Morty was crying at this point, his shoulders shaking with every sob. “I don’t want to see him everywhere I go. I don’t want someone to touch me and think that it was him… I just want everything to stop.” At this point Morty had dropped the bottle and was now covering his face with his hands. His tears dripped down his arms as he shook.
As Rick listened to Morty a deep pit in his stomach grew. He should have known that ignoring Morty and leaving him to sulk alone wasn’t going to help him. It just made him worse. “Morty I don’t drink to forget, I drink because I hate myself. And you, you can’t do this. I can’t let you do this.” Rick stood up from the bed and walked closer to Morty. He reached his arms out and Morty flinched back a bit before melting into Rick's hold. Rick held Morty and let him cry. He stroked his back softly and rested a hand on his head. Morty sobbed into Rick’s coat and held onto him tight, afraid that if he let go Rick would disappear forever. “I’m sorry Junebug.” Rick whispered as Morty started sobbing harder.
“Please, m-make it s-stop Rick..” Morty cried. “I want it to stop..” Morty pleaded quietly. Rick grabbed the bag from the bed and the bottle from the floor, setting them on Morty’s nightstand. He picked up Morty and laid him down on his bed, tucking him in. He brushed his hair out of his face and wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Take a nap Morty.” Rick stood up, but before he could walk away Morty grabbed ahold of the back of Rick’s coat.
“Don’t leave me, please.” Morty pleaded, his eyes still wet and voice still shaking.
Rick sighed softly before taking the space next to Morty on his bed. He laid atop the blanket Morty was using, but before he knew it Morty had him covered as he cuddled up right next to Rick. He was going to tell him off for making him touch Morty's gross blanket, but Morty was still shaking slightly. He just wanted the kid to fall asleep. So he ignored his distaste for the texture of the blanket and wrapped his arms around Morty, bringing him closer. Morty continued to cry for a while before he slowly fell asleep. Rick thought of moving or leaving, but Morty looked so peaceful. The most peaceful he’s seen him in a while. Rick decided against it, and continued to hold Morty. He softly stroked Morty's frizzy, damp hair and sighed softly.
It would take a while for this to go away, Rick knew that now, maybe he always had. But he was going to be there to help Morty. He wouldn’t leave him to fight his memories alone anymore. And he swore that he would kill anyone that even looked at Morty like that. Rick couldn’t believe that he had let this happen. Sure he didn't know that it happened until afterwards. But he should have been paying closer attention to Morty. There are gross pervs in every universe, on every planet, everywhere. No where is completely safe, he knew that. And he still let it happen. Rick tried to stop thinking about it and closed his eyes. They have a long road ahead of them, possibly including therapy. Maybe… And actually hiding his stash of course.