Chapter Text
“W-Welcome to the best place in the galaxy, Mor-Morty!” Rick exclaims with a smug grin as he stands outside of a bar with his grandson, the neon sign buzzing in a foreign alien language.
“Rick, why- why did you take me to a bar..?” Morty asks as he stands with his shoulders hunched, the music blasting even from outside, hurting the boy’s ears.
“B-Because Morty! It’s the best place i-i-in- in the fucking galaxy, Morty! And don’t worry, they- they do drinks for kid so Beth won’t rip my head off. Now c-c’mon!” Rick says with a scowl, grabbing Morty’s wrist to drag him inside the bar.
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Inside the building there's nothing short of bright, strobing lights, loud music that plays through ginormous speakers and crowds of dancing aliens in front of a stage. Rick immediately makes a beeline for the bar, sitting down on one of the battered stools. Morty hesitates before sitting down on the stool to Rick’s left. Rick orders a shot for himself and a water for Morty, immediately throwing his head back and swallowing the shot in one go, relishing in the burn of it on his throat. Morty however stares at his glass of water, watching to make sure the water is normal and not some alien substance that might scream at him when he tries to drink it. Rick notices and nudges Morty in the side.
“It’s just n-normal water Mor-*Urrp*-ty. Don’t be such a p-p-pussy.” Rick nudges the glass towards Morty and his grandson sighs, picking up the glass and taking a small sip. When he realises it’s fine the boy takes an actual sip before placing his glass back down onto the counter.
“There ya go. See? Perfectly fine.” Rick says, picking up another shot the bartender placed down, downing it in a second.
“S-See Mor-Urrp-ty, what I tell ya? Best bar in the f-fuckin’ galaxy baby!” Rick whoops, chugging back yet another shot. Morty sighs. It’s gonna be a long night, huh..?
“Y-Yeah, I guess Rick..” Morty mumbles, staring down at the sticky countertop.
The stool to Rick's right creaks softly as someone sits down in it and Morty can’t help but glance at him. Rick doesn’t bat an eye at the noise, or the stranger next to him- that is until he speaks.
“Whiskey on the rocks, thanks.” The stranger orders. His voice is smooth, but a little raspy, and he seems.. Like a normal human? Maybe he’s a scientist like Rick? Morty can’t help but wonder. But when Morty glances back over at Rick, he can tell there’s something up. The way the scientist's body went stiff with the rim of his shot glass hovering just in front of his lips, if only slightly, is always a tell-tale sign to Morty that something's wrong. Rick doesn’t dare look over. He can’t. Not if it’s who he thinks it is.
“Thank you.” The stranger says as the alien bartender places his drink order on the countertop. Morty watches, his eyes widening as the strangers hand wa=raps around the glass. Six fingers..? Is.. Is that possible? I mean if he were an alien, but this guy is surely
human- right? Morty mind races before he notices Rick’s hand shaking slightly, before he grips the countertop to stop it.
“R-Rick? You okay?” Morty asks. He’s never seen Rick so.. Terrified? No, that’s not the word.. It’s hard to describe, but the look in Rick's eyes as he stares at those six fingers scare Morty. Before Rick can dip, the stranger turns his head slightly as if to examine the bar, his eyes flicking to Rick, then away, then back to Rick while widening in surprise. Morty’s own eyes widen when the silver haired stranger in a red turtle neck pulls a gun on Rick. But Rick doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He just.. Sits there, and watches the stranger's face flicker through so many different emotions before settling on anger.
“Sanchez?! By the gods, what are you doing here?!” The stranger questions, keeping his voice leveled so as to not cause a scene.
“Holy shit.. Ford?” Rick whispers, unable to control the flurry of emotions fluttering through his body before he decides on irritation and annoyance. “What am I doing here? It’s a bar, six fingers, in space, actually, it’s the best bar i-i-in- in the the fuckin’ galaxy! It's a mere coincidence we ended up in the same place!” Rick finally snaps, sinking back into his usual dismissive and egotistical persona. He stands up, coat fluttering, and Morty watches in horror as ‘Ford’ straight up decks Rick in the face, sending his grandpa stumbling back into an empty table- blood dripping from his nose.
“What the FUCK w-was that for, Stanford?!” Rick practically roars.
Morty watches, terrified as the other alien patrons gather round, chanting “Bar fight, bar fight, bar fight!”.
“There’s a lot more where that came from, Richard!” Ford snaps back, fists clenched at his side, still gripping his gun. Morty quickly stands up and steps between the two.
“H-Hey! Leave my grandpa alone! He may be an asshole- B-b-but that doesn’t mean y-y-you-you should just start a fight in the middle of a bar!” Morty yells, his voice shaking but full of authority, his fists clenched and trembling at his sides.
“Oh- Shit, You got a grandson? My apologies kid.” Ford sighs, his fists unclenching. “I apologise for.. Losing my cool like that. Yes, your grandfather is an utter asshole, but you’re correct. I shouldn’t be starting brawls in the middle of a bar.” Ford scratches the back of his neck, mirroring Morty’s own actions.
“I-It’s okay.. Uhm..” Morty mumbles.
“Ford. You must be Morty, Rick always used to ramble on about ‘infinite grandsons’ or something, so it’s great to meet you, even under these.. Circumstances.” Ford says with a small chuckle. Morty’s eyes shine a little brighter- for once he isn’t met with annoyance or disregard just because he’s a Morty.
“Urgh.. O-O-Oi, old man, d-don’t go stealing my Mor-Urrp-ty. You’ve got your own tag along, don’t you? Dopper or something..” Rick grumbles as he stands next to Morty, holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose.
“It’s Dipper. And no, I don’t take him on trips with me because he isn’t an infinite version of himself, he’s my nephew. And Morty is your grandson, don’t treat him like he’s just some compliable robot you can replace.” Ford states, his tone stern and serious as he glares at Rick through the cracked lens of his glasses.
“Ugh, whatever, I don’t need your advice, Ford…” Rick practically spits the man's name, and the way he dismisses Ford's advice makes Morty’s stomach twist.
“I-If you don’t mind me asking.. W-What happened between you two? I-I-I-I know Rick’s an asshole, but.. This is more than the usual treatment he gets from someone who he pissed off.” Morty pipes up, his curiosity spiking for the twos relationship.
“We’re exes.” Rick mumbles.