Chapter Text
Rick woke with a groan, head heavy from too many hours of broken sleep. Something pressed against his side, a solid weight that made him shift instinctively—until he glanced down.
Y/N’s head rested on his chest, her hair falling in loose strands across his shirt, her breath warm against him. His hand was still settled around her waist, holding her in place like it had been natural all along.
For a moment, he just stared. The previous day slammed into him in a rush—the fight with that overgrown alien mutt, the ruined portal gun, and the brutal cold that had driven them together in the same mattress. And then… this. Having her in his arms, her warmth pressed against him all night, had felt better than he ever would have admitted. Dangerous better.
Rick didn’t move. Couldn’t. Something about the quiet weight of her against him made his chest tighten with an emotion he didn’t want to name. Hell, he hadn’t realized until now just how much he liked the way she fit there, like it was the most natural thing in the universe.
Then she stirred, cutting through his thoughts. Y/N yawned softly and blinked awake, eyes meeting his as she gave him a lazy smile. “Morning,” she mumbled.
“Morning,” Rick replied, his voice low, before his mouth tugged into a smirk. “So, uh—sleep well? Chest holding up alright as a pillow?”
She chuckled, her eyes brightening. “You’re… a lot more comfortable than you look.”
Rick snorted. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
She tilted her head, smile turning softer. “We should… maybe do this more often.”
That caught him off guard, though he didn’t let it show. He leaned back just slightly, smirk widening. “Oh, so you’re saying you liked it? That bad, huh?”
Her cheeks warmed, and she smacked his chest lightly. “Don’t get cocky, Sanchez.”
Rick laughed, satisfied. He loved that shift—that little fluster in her voice, the way her confidence wavered when he pushed just far enough. For once, it wasn’t him caught in the heat of it.
Y/N sat up with a stretch, arms reaching over her head, and Rick immediately missed the warmth of her pressed against his side. His hand twitched, as if it still wanted to rest at her waist.
“As much as I’m enjoying our little cuddle session,” she said with a grin, “we should probably find something to eat before I collapse.”
Rick arched a brow, leaning lazily against the wall of the cave. “Yeah? Alright, princess, I’ll go find us a nice juicy alien steak or something. You just sit tight.”
Her grin faded into a look of mock-annoyance. “You’re seriously gonna just stroll out there alone? With whatever monsters are waiting? Not happening.”
He turned his head, giving her a smug look. “Oh? You worried about me now?”
Her eyes narrowed, though a faint blush betrayed her. “Of course I’m worried. You’re not invincible, Rick. That thing yesterday almost took your head off.”
Rick chuckled, voice low and amused. “You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to. I’ve survived way worse than frostbite and a couple of alien teeth. Trust me—I can handle it.”
She crossed her arms, tilting her chin up. “Even gods can freeze to death. So no, you’re not going alone. End of discussion.”
He studied her for a moment, lips quirking at her stubbornness. Damn, she always dug her heels in when it came to him. He liked that—more than he should.
Finally, he gave a small shrug. “Fine. But if you slow me down, I’m leaving you out there as bait.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. “Sure you will.”
Rick pushed himself to his feet, stretching his arms over his head before grabbing his gear. He glanced back at her, his smirk lingering. “Alright, let’s go bag us some breakfast.”
She fell into step beside him, shaking her head, but he caught the playful glint in her eyes as they walked out into the biting cold together.
⸻
The snow crunched under their boots as they trudged through the endless white expanse, the bitter wind biting at their faces. Y/N pulled her hood tighter around her head, though she still shot Rick a sideways grin.
“Y’know,” she said, “for someone who keeps saying he’s a genius, I haven’t seen you invent a portable heater yet.”
Rick smirked, hands shoved into the deep pockets of his coat. “I could make one. But where’s the fun in that? Suffering builds character, sweetheart.”
She rolled her eyes. “Easy for you to say. You already look like a half-frozen corpse most of the time.”
“Harsh,” he muttered, though his grin widened.
They walked in relative silence after that, breath misting in the frigid air, until Rick suddenly lifted a hand, signaling her to stop. Y/N froze beside him, brow furrowed.
Up ahead, through the curtain of falling snow, two massive creatures clashed. They were unlike anything she had ever seen—hulking bodies with curved horns jutting from their skulls, their claws slicing through the air with brutal force. The sound of their roars rattled in her chest.
Rick crouched low behind a jagged outcrop of ice, motioning for her to follow. “Stay down. Show’s about to start.”
Y/N crouched beside him, eyes wide. “We’re seriously just gonna watch?”
“Relax,” he whispered, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Let nature do the dirty work for us.”
The two of them watched in tense silence as the beasts tore into each other, the ground shaking with every impact. Blood sprayed against the snow in stark contrast, steaming in the cold air. After a few brutal minutes, one beast delivered the killing blow, snapping its rival’s neck with a sickening crack. The victor roared into the sky before lumbering off into the blizzard, leaving the carcass behind.
Rick waited until the echoes of its roar had faded before standing. He and Y/N shared a grin, then raised their hands for a triumphant high five.
“Well, that was easy,” Y/N said, brushing snow off her gloves.
Rick shrugged, pulling a small metallic device from his pocket. “Sometimes the universe hands you a freebie. Don’t question it.”
She arched a brow, smirking. “You? Passing up the chance to gloat about your genius? This is suspicious.”
Before he could retort, he pressed a button on the device. A beam of blue light shot out, enveloping the fallen beast, shrinking it down until it was absorbed into the machine with a sharp click. Rick tucked the device back into his pocket casually, like it was nothing.
“Portable matter compressor,” he explained with a grin. “Now dinner fits in my pocket.”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Of course it does. Why wouldn’t it?”
But before either of them could move, a low, guttural growl rolled through the air. Y/N stiffened, and Rick’s head snapped up just in time to see the victorious beast from before emerge from the snowstorm, eyes glowing and teeth bared.
“Ah, shit,” Rick muttered.
The creature lunged. Rick reacted instantly, shoving Y/N to the side just as the beast’s claws tore through the space she’d been standing in. He ducked, rolling away with startling agility for a man who often looked like he’d collapse after a few drinks.
Y/N hit the snow with a grunt, then looked up, startled. “Thanks,” she said breathlessly, shooting him a quick smile.
Rick glanced back at her, lips twitching into a grin despite the danger. “Don’t mention it.”
The beast roared again, shaking the ground. Rick pulled out his gun—a sleek energy blaster he’d cobbled together the night before. Y/N grabbed her own weapon, and without another word, they fell into rhythm.
The fight was chaotic, snow flying with every swipe of the creature’s claws. Rick moved with surprising precision, firing shot after shot into the beast’s thick hide, dodging its blows like he’d done this a thousand times before. Y/N matched him, weaving in and out, squeezing off shots that left angry scorch marks along the creature’s body.
“Not as big as the one from yesterday,” Rick shouted over the noise, “but still ugly as hell!”
“Ugly enough to ruin my coat!” Y/N called back, just as the beast lunged at her. She dodged, but not fast enough—the creature’s claw caught her shoulder, ripping through the parka with a sickening sound.
She gasped, clutching her arm as blood seeped through the fabric. But instead of falling back, she tightened her grip on her blaster and fired again, determination burning in her eyes.
Rick’s stomach dropped at the sight of the blood. Something hot and furious surged through him, overriding the cold. His smirk vanished, replaced by a hard glare.
“You son of a bitch,” he growled.
Rick charged forward, his shots coming faster, sharper, each one fueled by anger. The beast roared in pain, stumbling under the onslaught. Within seconds, Rick delivered the final blow, the creature collapsing in the snow with a thud that shook the ground.
Panting, Rick spun back to Y/N. His eyes darted immediately to her shoulder, narrowing at the sight of blood staining her coat.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low but urgent as he stepped closer.
Y/N winced but tried to smile. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ve had worse papercuts.”
Rick wasn’t buying it. He reached out, carefully peeling back the torn fabric to get a look at the wound. The scratch wasn’t deep, but it was bleeding steadily.
“Yeah, no,” he muttered, jaw tight. “We’re getting you back to the cave. Now.”
Y/N blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by the sharp concern in his voice. Then her lips curved into a small, soft smile. “Thanks, Rick.”
He glanced at her, trying to play it off with a shrug. “Yeah, well… can’t exactly let my dinner date bleed out, can I?”
Her smile widened, despite the sting in her shoulder. “You’re sweet when you’re pretending not to be sweet, y’know that?”
Rick rolled his eyes, though his smirk returned. “Don’t push it.”
He turned, pulling the device out again and absorbing the beast’s body in a flash of light. The snow settled around them in silence, broken only by Y/N’s soft laughter.
“What?” Rick asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head with amusement. “Just… you being you.”
Rick gave her a look that was equal parts suspicious and intrigued, but he didn’t press. Instead, he jerked his head toward the horizon. “C’mon. Let’s patch you up before you start crying about it.”
She bumped her shoulder against his arm as they started walking. “Please. You’re the one who’d cry if I died.”
Rick shot her a sideways smirk. “Yeah, well… maybe.”
And with that, they trudged back through the snow, side by side, the warmth of their banter making the icy wasteland feel just a little less cold.
⸻
The cave was mercifully warmer than the frozen wastes outside, but the wind still whistled faintly through cracks in the stone, carrying with it a reminder of the cold. By the time they made it back inside, Y/N let out a long sigh of relief and slumped against the wall, her breath fogging faintly in the dim light.
“God, I was starting to think my bones would freeze solid,” she muttered, tugging at the parka’s zipper until it gave way. She shrugged it off her shoulders, wincing just slightly when the movement pulled at the long gash in her arm.
Rick’s eyes caught the subtle flinch, his gaze narrowing. “Yeah, don’t try to play it cool, Y/N. That shit looks worse than you’re pretending.”
“I’ve had worse,” she said with a half-smile, pressing her hand gingerly against the torn fabric of her shirt where crimson had started to seep through. She wanted to sound nonchalant, tough — but the truth was written in the faint crease of her brow.
Rick stepped closer, pulling his backpack from the floor and kneeling in front of her. “Lucky for you, I came prepared. Healing balm, disinfectant, bandages. First-class care, Sanchez style.” He popped the latches with an almost cocky flourish.
Her lips quirked upward. “Gallant and sarcastic all in one package. Be still my heart.”
He snorted, rummaging through the pack. “Don’t get too excited. I’m only patching you up because I don’t feel like dragging your ass around if you keel over from infection.”
“Mmhm.” She tilted her head, smirking. “Sure, Rick. Just admit you like taking care of me.”
For once, he didn’t fire back immediately. Instead, he pulled out the small metal tin of balm and a roll of bandages, then met her gaze with something unreadable — softer than his usual banter. “Sit. Chair. Now.”
The bossy tone made her chuckle, but she obeyed, lowering herself into one of their makeshift seats. He dropped down next to her, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers. When he spoke again, his voice was rougher, as though he had to push the words out.
“Okay, uh… you’re not gonna love this part, but—shirt’s gotta come off.”
Y/N blinked, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh.” She glanced at her shoulder, then back at him, and color crept into her cheeks despite her best efforts to look unbothered.
Rick smirked, watching her reaction with way too much amusement. “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t think about the logistics. Can’t exactly work around all that fabric.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to mask the warmth in her face. “Fine. But stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” His grin widened.
“Like you’re enjoying this.”
“Newsflash, sweetheart—I’d be an idiot not to.”
She swatted his arm playfully, muttering something about him being impossible, but she still hooked her fingers into the hem of her shirt. With careful movements, she tugged it up and over her head, wincing again as the fabric brushed her injured shoulder. The air inside the cave was cool against her now bare skin, and she sat there in just her bra — simple, practical, but still enough to make Rick’s throat tighten for a beat.
He forced his gaze upward, though not before she caught the flicker in his eyes.
“You’re supposed to be looking at my shoulder,” she teased, her voice just shy of flirtatious.
Rick’s smirk deepened. “Yeah, and you’re supposed to be dying of embarrassment. But here you are, making jokes half-naked in front of me.”
Her cheeks flared hotter. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re stalling.” He twisted the cap off the tin of balm, the sharp, herbal scent filling the air. Then, softer, “Hold still.”
She did. Rick’s fingers brushed her skin as he spread the cool balm along the wound, deliberate but careful. The sting made her hiss under her breath, and his hand paused.
“Easy,” he murmured. “Almost done.”
Her breath hitched, but not from the pain. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his calloused fingers steady as they trailed along her shoulder. Every brush seemed to linger just a second too long, like he wasn’t only treating the injury — like he was memorizing her.
“Rick,” she said quietly, trying to sound teasing but coming out softer than she meant.
“Yeah?” He didn’t look up from his work.
“You’re way more careful than I thought you’d be.”
A small, dry laugh. “What, you expected me to slap some duct tape on it and call it a day?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
That made him glance up, his mouth tugging into a crooked grin. “Guess I like proving you wrong.”
Her heart thudded louder than it should have.
When he finished with the balm, he leaned back slightly. “Alright. Now comes the fun part. Bandages. Problem is—” He gestured vaguely at her bra strap. “—you’ll need that off. Bandage won’t hold otherwise.”
Her eyes widened as the realization sank in. “Oh. Right. Uh… okay, turn around then.”
For once, Rick didn’t argue. He raised his brows in mock surrender and turned his back, though the smirk never left his face. “No peeking, promise.”
She laughed nervously as she unhooked the strap, trying not to think about the fact that Rick Sanchez — of all people — was sitting just feet away while she sat topless in a cave on an ice planet. The vulnerability should’ve been uncomfortable. But it wasn’t. Not really.
“Okay,” she said after a beat. “You can turn back.”
He did, eyes flicking briefly down before snapping back up, his expression carefully schooled. She’d pulled the bra back on loosely, enough to give him access to her shoulder. The bandages hung in his hand, and for once, he looked almost serious.
“Hold still again,” he muttered.
This time, he leaned in even closer, wrapping the bandage around her shoulder and back with practiced precision. His breath brushed her collarbone as he tied the knot, and she shivered — not from the cold.
“You good?” he asked, his voice low.
She nodded, lips tugging into a smile. “Better than good. Thanks, Rick.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat back finally, eyes flicking to hers. Then, smirking to cover the warmth in his tone, he added, “Starting to lose count of how many times I’ve saved your ass this month.”
She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “My personal hero.”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no bite in it. “Don’t push it.”
“You like it.”
Rick tilted his head, meeting her gaze with a look that was both amused and—something else. “Maybe I do.”
The words hung between them, heavier than the playful banter that usually filled the air. For a second, neither of them looked away. Then Y/N broke the tension with a sly smile, leaning back and patting her bandaged shoulder.
“So… what now, doctor? Am I cleared for duty?”
He smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Yeah. You’re good to go. Just don’t make me patch you up again tomorrow.”
“No promises.”
Rick shoved the last roll of gauze into his pack, dusting off his hands as if dismissing what had just happened. His pulse was still a little faster than he wanted to admit — patching her up had been a balancing act between clinical efficiency and not losing his shit over how good she looked sitting there in just her bra, biting down little hisses of pain with stubborn courage. He cleared his throat, forcing his expression into something neutral.
“Alright,” he muttered, “you’re patched. No more leaning on me like a crutch, okay? I got better things to do than haul your ass around like a sack of potatoes.”
Y/N smiled, rolling her shoulder gingerly. “Oh, come on, we already talked about this. You liked playing knight in shining armor.”
He scoffed, but the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. “Yeah, sure. Gallant Rick, slayer of beasts, master of gauze pads. Put it on my tombstone.”
She laughed and leaned forward on her knees, eyes glinting. “I’ll keep that in mind. ‘Here lies Rick Sanchez, hero to clumsy women everywhere.’”
That earned her a short bark of laughter — the real kind, not the sarcastic snort he usually tossed at people. For a second, his eyes softened on her, but then he shook his head and sat back against the cave wall. “Anyway, now that you’re patched up and we’ve got meat, the next problem is water. Can’t exactly live on alien jerky and sarcasm alone.”
Her grin widened. “Funny you should bring that up.”
Rick narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What’re you smirking at me for? You got some brilliant idea hiding in that bottomless bag of yours?”
“Not just brilliant,” she said, and with theatrical flair, she reached into her satchel. She pulled out a small metal cube, no bigger than her hand. “Genius.”
Rick raised a brow. “That better not be another useless trinket or I’m chucking it in the fire.”
“Have a little faith,” she teased. With a dramatic flourish, she dropped it onto the cave floor. The cube snapped open with mechanical precision, panels folding out and locking into place until a compact machine, about waist-high, hummed softly with blue light.
Rick straightened, surprise flickering over his face despite himself. “Well, shit.”
She tapped the top with pride. “Portable purifier. Just add ice, and voilà — potable water.”
He crouched down, inspecting the humming mechanism with keen eyes. “Looks solid. Not total garbage. Where’d you swipe this?”
“I built it,” she said, chin high, her smirk smug.
That made him pause. He looked up at her, scanning for the lie — but her grin didn’t waver. His lips twitched. “Almost impressed.”
“Almost?” she echoed, feigning offense.
“You get full impressed when it works,” he countered, crossing his arms.
“Fine. Watch.” She scooped a hunk of ice from Rick’s earlier haul, dropped it into the machine’s intake. A few seconds later, clear water streamed neatly into a container at its base. Y/N lifted it with one hand and held it out to him like a prize. “Ta-da.”
Rick took it, sniffed it, sipped. His brows lifted slightly, then he grunted. “Not bad. Alright. Consider me impressed.”
Her triumphant grin nearly lit the cave. “Knew it.”
Before he could say anything else, she was already rummaging again in her satchel. “And because I like spoiling you…”
Another gadget appeared in her hands, this one unfolding with metallic clinks until it resembled a small workbench — compact, sturdy enough for one person.
Rick blinked, then broke into a slow, sarcastic clap. “Bravo. Incredible. You’ve had this the whole time and you’ve still been stealing my workbench? You got a death wish?”
She put on her best innocent look, tilting her head. “Yours is better.”
“Bullshit,” he shot back instantly.
“True,” she admitted smoothly, “but also… maybe I just like sitting close when we’re working.”
That stopped him dead for a beat. His smirk faltered, and then returned, sharper this time. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze level with hers. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
Her smile was all teeth. “Yeah. But you like it.”
Rick didn’t bother denying it this time. He just straightened, shaking his head as if brushing it off. “Fine. You deal with peeling off that beast carcass. I’ll grab more ice.”
“Deal.” She saluted him with two fingers and turned toward the makeshift cutting space.
⸻
By the time Rick returned, arms loaded with more jagged ice, the rich smell of cooking meat filled the cave. She had managed to slice and roast strips over the fire, humming softly to herself as she worked.
“Look at you,” Rick said as he set the ice down, “all domestic. Next you’ll be knitting me socks.”
She smirked without looking up. “Don’t tempt me. I’d make them pink just to see your face.”
He grunted, settling down beside her as she handed him a strip of sizzling meat. He bit into it, chewing thoughtfully, then nodded. “Edible. Good enough.”
“High praise,” she teased, taking a bite of her own.
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, broken only by the crackle of fire. When the water purifier finished, Y/N poured them each a container. She raised hers in a mock toast. “To not dying of dehydration.”
Rick clinked his against hers. “To the bare minimum.”
They both drank, grinning into their cups.
⸻
The next few hours slipped by in a haze of tinkering. With the new workbench folded out beside Rick’s, they spread parts and tools across the cave, the hum of machinery mixing with low voices, clinks, and the occasional curse when something sparked unexpectedly.
Rick had started the session with a faint smirk of superiority, ready to correct every mistake she might make. But as the hours went on, the smirk faded.
She wasn’t just competent — she was sharp. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, her logic crisp, her improvisations clean. When she spotted a misalignment in one of the portal gun’s stabilizers and corrected it before he even mentioned it, he actually paused, staring at her hands with narrowed eyes.
If he’d harbored a single doubt about her building her own portal gun, it was gone now.
He leaned back eventually, watching her solder with a small, grudging grin. “Alright. I’ll admit it. You’re not half bad.”
She arched a brow, not looking up. “That’s it? After all this, I get ‘not half bad’?”
“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re good. Happy?”
“Very,” she said with a sly smile.
⸻
Night eventually crept in, shadows stretching long across the cave walls. The fire crackled low, their tools set aside for the day. Y/N yawned, stretching her arms above her head before collapsing onto the makeshift bed with a sigh.
Rick sank down beside her a moment later, stretching his legs out. She turned her head toward him, smirk tugging at her lips. “You know… I’m impressed. Didn’t think you had this much survivalist in you.”
His smirk matched hers. “I’ve got a lot of impressive things.”
She laughed, low and warm. “Oh, I know.” She punctuated it with a wink, then scooted closer, nudging him with her shoulder. “Now… open your arms.”
Rick gave her a sideways look. “What, you liked sleeping on me that much? You want a repeat performance?”
“Exactly,” she said simply, still smirking. “So quit stalling.”
He huffed a laugh, but he opened his arm all the same. She slid into the space with ease, laying her head against his chest and curling against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Mmm,” she murmured, eyes fluttering shut. “I could get used to this.”
Rick hesitated only a second before wrapping his arm around her, more confident than he’d been the night before. His lips twitched into a real smile. “Yeah… me too.”
Her hand rested lightly on his chest, fingers tracing absent circles over the fabric of his shirt. “Goodnight, Rick.”
He bent his head down and pressed a small, almost tentative kiss to her hair. “Night, Y/N.”
She sighed contentedly against him, already half-asleep. Rick stared at the cave ceiling, holding her closer, her warmth seeping into him like fire. For the first time in years, he thought maybe he didn’t want to go back — not if it meant losing this. He’d never say it out loud, but he clung to the thought as his eyes drifted shut, her scent filling his lungs.
Sleep came easier this time.