Chapter Text
“Listen, I don’t care how many fancy folds you put in there, the standard design is the best. That’s why it’s the default!” The redhead said as she brandished her papercraft.
“P-please,” said the boy, leaning back in his chair his confidence clear. “A pattern c-can always be improved. P-people just stick t-to the most well known because th-they’re lazy.” He was visibly prideful of his project holding it up like an award. The plane was comparable to an arrow wide wings and small tail structure behind it. The folds were extremely neat so much so Summer swears he just stole it off the internet, there's just no way that thing is improvised.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
She lifted open the glass window of their high school science class. Sure, just the mere act of letting the breeze in was against the rules, but where and when could they have a better airplane battle of superiority? Morty knew this, so he was willing to step up to the plate.
3, 2, 1 and principles office. But hey, at least Morty’s paper plane went farther.
The two walked through the halls in silence. Summer seemed annoyed at worse, but Morty was horrified. He has lost count on how many times he’s been sent to this academic timeout box -that witch Ms. Mclean likes to abuse the option when she tired of dealing with him which is basically all the time. Surely, by now, this would lead to some sort of phone call. One simple ring and he would face grave consequences at the hands of his parents meanwhile Summer will just get to sit on the couch texting.
“Soooo...Wanna skip?”
Morty looked up at his sister then glanced away, his body tightening up.
"I-I don't know..."
That was easy for her to say. Summer has already gotten three phone calls home and nothing but based on past experience one would be enough for Morty.
"Come on, it's the last block and this school has serious communication issues. No one will even notice!"
As much as Morty wanted to trust his sister it was easy for her to do things like this, him however not so much.
"Wh-what if we-"
Summer placed her hand on her brother's shoulder.
"We won't get caught. You're running with the coolest girl and town and I'm not the type to get caught. Morty felt his fear slowly melting away with a comforting hand on his shoulder and the overall warm energy his sister gave. With a smile, he gave a nod of approval.
“You’re like a total dork now, you know that, right? I mean since when do you fall off fences?”
The teen patched up her brother's minor cuts who had just gracefully feel off of the school’s chain link fence. All he could do was pout and look away, deeply embarrassed and unable to retort with the proper sass. Summer knew this and she just rolled her eyes and smiled.
“Whatever, man. You’re just lucky that it didn’t tear any of your clothes; you’d be walking evidence for the crime of skipping.” Summer stopped cleaning up cuts to make finger guns. “I’d have to kill you so no one could expose my horrid deeds. Bang, bang.”
Morty chuckled.
She smiled again, her mission to cheer him up accomplished. “Come on big guy, we still got drinks to buy. Do your legs still work?”
Morty leaned against her for some support, regaining balance. “I-I think so. J-just a little - a tiny limp.”
The two walked off kissing goodbye to the school. All was good.
Well, besides a bit more teasing from Summer.
The best part of skipping the last block of school is that it never ends, and as long as the two are home before dinner and there’s no report from the school their parents don’t care. So the two decided to visit a hipster-friendly bubble tea shop. It was full of kids on study blocks, and the line was huge. The redhead sighed as she crossed her arms.
“This is gonna take awhile. Could you do me a favor, Morty?”
Morty looked up.
“Wh-what’s up?”
“I’m craving donuts because of...reasons. Could you grab a baker’s dozen from the place across the street?” She took a 20 from her purse and handed it to him. “I’ll keep our spot. You want the usual, right?”
Morty nodded, glad for the excuse to get out of the claustrophobic line. He squeezed his way out and gratefully filled his lungs with fresh air.
After he was in the clear, he slowed down, walking rather than running. It was a rather nice day, and a breeze flowed through his hair - just enough to cool him but not enough to cause shivering. He headed down the plaza
He stopped when he heard a small mew.
Morty looked around, wondering why a cat would be here in a place like this. It wasn’t like any store around here was exactly animal-friendly. Then he saw it. It was a stray cat. It was a cute little critter. Morty wasn’t an expert on cats, but he was pretty sure it was an American shorthair. It had a very nice gray coat.
But it was in rough shape. It was drenched in muddy water, with raw cuts over its legs, and a much larger cut over its left eye.
Morty crouched down, extending a gentle hand. He knew he wasn’t supposed to mess with wild animals - they could contain an encyclopedia of diseases - but his heart was winning out over his brain. After all, with all those cuts, one of them has to be infected. This little guy needs to see a vet.
The cat moved towards the boy slowly. Morty stayed still, a total statue so as not to scare it off. To his a pleasant surprise, it licked him with its sandpaper tongue. However, when Morty lifted his hand to pet it, it ran off.
Oh no, you don’t.
He stood up and chased after it. He probably shouldn’t get close to a creature that ate rats or something to survive, but that just made him care more. The cat was incredibly fast on its feet - er, paws - and led him up and down allies behind the plaza shops. Morty was the type who failed P.E. class and was rapidly running out of breath.
Finally, the cat decided to stop and jumped into some shady garbage. Morty paused, debating whether he really wants to go dumpster diving for a cat. He glanced down. It wasn’t like he was wearing anything special, just his usual yellow shirt and blue pants. And he was going home right after this so, why not?
He rolled up his sleeves, pulled up his pants, and marched toward the dumpster. That little kitty was seeing a vet whether it liked it or not!
The dumpster was too tall for him to reach. He grabbed a nearby cardboard box and tried to use it as a stool. It promptly flattened under his body weight.
This could take awhile.
After a bit of trial and error, he found some boxes that would hold him and piled them up. He started shoving empty cans and trash bags of mush around, looking for the cat. The smell alone was enough to make him gag. There was animal blood and swarms of insects. Aw geez, this was the butcher shops dumping ground wasn’t it? That’s why everything smelled rotten - it literally was. He fought the urge to quit. He’d come too far to give up now. There was just one thing he had to say to himself to keep him going, It never hurts to help. Then felt something. He thought it’s the cat and grabbed it - but he knew something was wrong once it started pulling him in.
He fought it, survival instincts kicking in. Open tin cans sliced his arms as he was slowly dragged into the waste. The meat blood made him slippery, though, and whatever it was dropped him. He fell back out of the hole of rubbish. He scrambled to his feet - and something emerged from the trash.
He grabbed the lid of a trash can and shielded himself just in time. A beer bottle nailed the lid and spun away. The man who had thrown it had hauled himself half-out of the trash. He had rotting teeth, strands of stringy hair, and grimy clothes. He was screaming nonsense words, but there was terrifying fury in his eyes, his face, his voice. He threw rancid meats at Morty, chucking them so hard they hit his makeshift shield and made his arm ache. Cow guts and bloody juice spattered over his clothes.
Finally, he dodged away and bolted, dropping his makeshift shield on the ground. He could hear the man screaming after him, and when he glanced over his shoulder the man was chasing him with a broken bottle!
“Oh fuck, aw geez! AW GEEZ!”
Morty shoved through the plaza crowds. People stare at him until they see what’s chasing him - and then they start running, too. He looked around frantically. People were hurrying to lock their shops, but he had to hide somewhere, he couldn’t keep running like this!
Eventually, he saw the donut shop with a line now spilling outside. He forced his way in and jumped over the counter, racing to the back. People yelled at him but started yelling for a whole new reason when the maniac burst in.
Morty found a walk-in freezer - the best shield he could get. He ran in, shut the door, and locked it behind him. He leaned against, it shivering.
From that point on time seemed to freeze. He just sat there, rubbing his arms, praying that the lunatic wouldn’t find him. He heard screaming, swearing, bottles being broken. Chaos. Guilt starts to creep up on him. He’d lead that lunatic here, and now innocent people were getting hurt because of him.
But he was still too much of a coward to do anything about it. He stayed on the cold floor, drowning in guilt and shame.
Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much. He heard sirens. He slowly opened his eyes. It was a bad idea to fall asleep in a freezer. He could see red and blue flashing against the walls. The police. If they were here, it must be safe now, right?
Morty stood up, light-headed, barely able to organize his thoughts. He opened the door and stumbled out, shivering violently. He collapsed onto the ground. Two officers rushed up to him.
Morty ended up being driven home in the back of a cop car, wrapped in a warm blanket, his sister holding his cold body close and wiping dried blood off his skin.