Chapter Text
Morty lays in his bed motionless except for his shaking breaths. He hasn't been able to fall asleep tonight. And the night before that. And the night before that. Its not that he can't sleep, its just that when he does sleep his mind plagues him with terrors of what he's seen and done. And whats been done to him.
He sits up abruptly with his breath catching in his throat as phantom hands crawl over his shoulders and waist and a voice murmurs for him to stop being a tease-
Morty is just barely makes it to the toilet to puke his panic away. He gasps for air as quietly as he can between he spills his guts into the ceramic bowl below him. He distantly wonders if anyone is awake to hear his violent retching, he doubts they'd care.
Maybe someone will tell him to shut up, his disgusting vomiting will wake up the whole house. A broken sob involuntary tears its way out of his thoat between heaves and shame washes over him. How dare he cry about his family not caring for him. He has food and a roof over his head- well mostly, sometimes there are nights slept under the stars when Rick drags him on another adventure.
Morty sits back with a huff as he finishes puking. Of course his thoughts go back to Rick. Hes the source for most of his problems. Technically hes at fault for everything because he made Beth and if Beth never existed, there would never be a Morty to traumatize. But sitting around and being sad about the situation will never make things better, Morty thinks as he flushes the toilet and wipes up and any vomit that spilled on the floor. He doesn't look at his reflection as he pours a handful of water into his mouth and swishes it around then spitting it out.
A sharp knock on the door has Morty glaring into the mirror. He recognizes Rick's knock right away.
"M-Morty if you're done puking like-like some anorexic teen I'd like to take a shit" Ricks voice cuts through the door.
Morty opens the door and walks past Rick without really looking at him. He doesn't care about whatever soul tearing comment Rick has for him fight now. Hes trying to keep his brain from going into a full panic attack, he can internalize Rick's words later when his anxiety subsides into a horrid depression later.
Deciding he isn't going to sleep, Morty walks downstairs and into the kitchen to get some water and maybe a snack. He didn't mean to puke up his dinner like that, but thinking about that fucking jellybean man makes his body physically ill.
He sighs when he sees that the clock on the microwave reads 3:48AM. Still another two hours before hes supposed to be waking up for school. Plenty of time for a snack and maybe an episode of Ball Fondlers Morty decides. He sits on the couch and turns the tv on, quickly zoning out while munching on a bag of chips. If he can't sleep he might as well turn his brain off as much as he can.
Morty doesn't realize how much time has passed until Summer comes downstairs to get breakfast.
"Jesus Christ, Morty where you down here all night?" She asks, her voice almost accusing.
"No, j-just a few hours."
Summer gives him a concerned look Morty doesn't see because hes still staring blankly forward. "Well get dressed, fuckin' weirdo."
Morty runs a hand through his hair and stands up. He would've started walking into his room but his body decides that now is a good time to completely give up. He feels his body fall forward and Summer shouting something, but he can't understand her as he is already unconcious due the to days without sleep.