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“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray,”
Rick held the little boy with the curly hair, so small and fragile. Morty, barely a year old, beamed at his grandfather, bright and shining like Rick’s own personal sunshine. That’s what he was. Sunshine. Rick’s bundle of sunshine. His smile lit up the entire world, dazzling in the dullness of this gray planet. The dullness in Rick’s heart. The old man sang those words true to the baby brunet, soft and sweet. His only sunshine.
“You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away,”
…
The other night, dear
As I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you
In my arms
There he was. Morty! He and Rick were separated only by the space between them, standing idly in a field of golden wheat. Rick’s heart soared as he sprinted towards his grandson, arms opening in a welcome embrace. The two collided together in a hug, Rick sinking down to his knees as hot tears spilled from his eyes. Vivid swirls of color and warmth surrounded them both.
Rick held Morty for an eternity, completely unwilling to let go as his hand cradled the curly haired boy lovingly. It was warm and light and happy, and his sunshine had returned, and suddenly the world was bright again.
“I have to go now…” morty’s voice cracked, swelling with emotion.
“Don’t. Dont, please?” Rick begged. “Just a little longer…”
When I awoke, dear
I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried
But his wish was not granted, and Rick awoke with a jolt. His body was cold, even with the blanket that attempted to warm his soul.
Morty had several of his own blankets over his pale body. The rhythmic beat of his heart was quiet, but thankfully still there.
That steady pulse was the only thing keeping Rick sane.
Morty hadn’t moved in weeks. Hadn't opened his eyes, hadn’t smiled, hadn’t laughed. Nothing. He was inert on that hospital bed, chest barely rising with every shallow breath. His bundle of sunshine was dimming, lost in a sleepless coma, and Rick was all alone now, in his cold, gray garage.
The old man didn’t have the energy to pull out his flask, but found himself unable to sleep… so he just sat there in his old cot, tears rolling down his face, filling his deep wrinkles as he let out a wounded sob.
And another. again and again, until he was a pathetic, blubbering lump in his sheets, pulling on his hair and dry heaving, face red and eyes puffy as he gasped for air. No tears were left, and yet, he found it impossible to stop.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are gray
Still nothing. Not even the twitch of a finger. Completely motionless Rick sat there everyday, watching, waiting. He told Morty stories. Sometimes they were stories about things he did before coming here to the smith house. Sometimes they were funny memories of him and Morty on classic adventures together. Sometimes it was just Rick complaining about Jerry, or life in general, making inappropriate jokes that Morty normally would have scolded.
Most of the time it was Rick telling the boy all about the things they would do when he woke up… if he woke up. Please? Please wake up? Rick sighed, rubbing morty’s still arm. The old man began to sing, filling the blaring silence. Hoarse and broken, but every bit as meaningful as when he first sang it. When he first sang to the brunette as an infant about a little bundle of sunshine named Morty. The words came easily, as if he’d sung them only yesterday.
“You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,”
A quivering voice as he sucked in a shallow breath, forcing himself to continue despite the way his heart ached. Fat tears rolling down his face, he hardly bothered to wipe them away, gently petting Morty's soft curls… another holding the brunet’s free hand, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin.
…“Please don't take my sunshine away.”