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Rick sat on the sofa in the living room, inter-dimensional cable blasting as loudly as he could get away with at this hour. He had just came to live with his daughter full-time and was already pushing to boundaries. He yawned and stretched, his long legs slipping under the ottoman. Something in his knee popped weirdly. He sighed, flopping over on the couch, and checked the time.
8:56 pm
“Jesus.” He whispered.
He had been watching TV for almost four hours. The heaviness of reality hit him and he slowly rose from the couch. It was dark outside now and the house was quiet. Beth was working late at the hospital while Jerry, Summer, and Morty were definitely asleep by now. Rick walked to the kitchen to rummage around for something to eat when he noticed the faint sound of the shower running upstairs. He paused briefly, his hands hovering in the cupboards. He all too quickly recalled a conversation he, at the time, deemed far less important than Ball Fondlers. Morty was begging Beth about being allowed to shower as opposed to a bath… something about being “a big boy now”. Then Beth hastily agreed and rushed out the door. How long ago was Ball Fondlers on? An hour? Was Morty still up there?
Rick buzzed with mild concern but brushed it away with a huff of annoyance. This wasn’t even really his fucking kid. Sure, he had been popping in and out of their lives consistently since Summer was born but it wasn’t supposed to be his problem. Why did he have to be so attached? Rick did not want to think about the reasoning behind his uncharacteristic concern for the five-year-old boy, or why since his birth Rick had a soft spot in his heart for the boy, or why no matter how he tried to push Morty away it never worked, or how much that scared him, or— he cut himself off before his brain outright explode. He just needed to make sure Morty was okay and then he could go to bed. That’s it. He pulled out the box of wafers, popped one in his mouth, and headed upstairs.
He decided to check Morty’s room first in case it was Jerry who has simply decided to take a late-night shower. Unlikely because he usually went to bed after he put Summer down, but poss— “UHURohmy God” he burped. Why did he know all this shit? He was a motherfucking intergalactic God and he had his stupid family’s schedule memorized. He swallowed the last bit of his wafer—and pride—and headed to his grandson's room.
He didn’t even have to make it all the way to his grandson's bedroom before he noticed the door was open and his bed was still made. Rick turned around and walked up to the bathroom door, opening it just a crack.
“Morty?” he asked.
He listed for a reply but was met with nothing but the soft hum of the shower running and the feeling of the hot steam slipping out the door into the hallway.
He pushed the door open a little more and repeated louder.
“Morty, it—it’s grandpa Rick, kiddo. Ya—You okay in there?”
Still nothing. With a mild panic rising in his chest he slipped into the bathroom, leaving the door agape. He didn’t want to invade Morty’s privacy, but he needed to make sure he was okay.
“Morty, buddy, it’s been a little while I—“
Rick slipped back the curtain just enough to scan the shower and saw Morty's face in the corner, fast asleep. His wet hair hung over his eyes and his left hand rested on the long caddy hanging from the shower head.
Rick let out a breathy laugh, half amusement, and half relief. He didn’t even want to think about all the things he could have seen when he open the bathroom door. He ran his hands through his hair, focusing on the task ahead.
Poor kid, he thought. He obviously wasn’t old enough the shower completely on his own and with no one awake nonetheless. Why would Beth even think… he sighed heavily. Remembering his days as a parent. He had made plenty of mistakes and although he may not have done this, he was in no position the judge. Beth was still a kid herself, or at least that’s how Rick saw it. He had been much older when he had her, and regardless, to Rick, Beth was still his baby daughter. He couldn’t deny, to himself at least, that he feel that same warm feeling to protect Morty and Summer that he did for Beth.
“Goddamn it,” he grumbled.
“Uhm… okay”, he reached out his long fingers to maybe poke Morty awake. He want the gentlest man in the universe, but he also didn’t want to startle his grandson. He paused, though, hovering awkwardly. He didn’t want to embarrass Morty either. Did five-year-olds even feel embarrassment? He didn’t know. Morty was naked his head crammed in the corner of the shower, and asleep standing up, that would sure embarrass most people. Rick wouldn’t be embarrassed though, he had seen worse—Hell he had done worse. But he couldn’t help but ooze sympathy when he was around his little grandson.
Okay, here—just—” He retracted his hand and shut the curtain again.
“MORTY” he yelled gruffly.
He heard Morty startle awake and knocked something off the shower catty.
“R-Rick?”
“Yeah, y-yeah it’s me, little guy”. Rick generously decided not to reveal he had seen Morty asleep to save him the embarrassment. But his efforts were for nothing when Morty cut off his train of thought with a small, “I- I think that- that I fell asleep, Rick”.
He laughed light-heartedly and felt an embarrassingly sappy ping in his heart. If there were any thoughts of leaving Morty to his own devices or waking up Jerry, they were gone now.
“Y-yeah that-that-that’s okay, Mooortyyy” He said playfully.
“B-but Rick, Ididntevenwashmyhairlikemomsaid c-cause I-I only had the—cause I only used the bo-the body wash causeitsmellslikebubblegum!” Morty said panicked.
Rick had forgotten how high-strung Morty could be. Although he usually found such behavior annoying and impractical, when it came from Morty, Rick could help but want to protect his unique personality. Plus, with everyone asleep, Rick figured he could have this moment with his little grandson while still preserving his cold indifference to the world.
“Okay, okay, hang tight. Grandpas’—UHAGHP-gonna help you out, mkay?”
Rick turned around and scanned the bathroom for a towel. His attention was quickly caught by the bright yellow terry cloth askew in the sink. Rick picked it up noticing the decorative eyes and bill on what appeared to be a duck-themed hood of the towel.
“Bingo…” Rick muttered. “Here, kid, step out for a sec.”
Morty’s little hand slipped back the curtain as Rick held the towel out for him. He stepped over the tall ledge of the bathtub and place a foot unsteadily next to Rick’s. Rick wrapped the towel around him leaving his hands on Morty’s shoulders to steady him. Once Morty was out of the shower, Rick let go and grabbed the hood of the towel, flicking it up over Morty’s eyes.
Morty laughed and blindly swatted away his grandpa's hands.
Rick gasped “Wha!? Where’d my Morty go!?”
“Grandpa!” Morty shrieked with excitement.
“Grandpa!? What did this duck do to my Grandson!” Rick demanded.
“’M not a duck!” Morty giggled again his little feet now softly padding around Rick’s feet.
“Oh, ye-yeah? Mister—UAGHP- Mister…fff—Mister Duck? Prove it!” Rick grinned down at Morty. He could see Morty think as to whether or not he wanted to reveal himself, but after only a few seconds Morty tilted his head up to his grandpa and pulled the hood back. His eyes waited for Rick’s reaction. And when he gasped in astonishment, Morty irrupted in a fit of shrieks and giggles dancing around his grandpa again.
“Grandpa, d-d-did you actually THINK I WAS A DUCK!” Morty stared up at Rick through thick wet eyelashes and loose curls. All signs of tiredness now replaced with giddy.
“Y-y-UURP Morty. It- you really got me.” He said reaching a hand down to ruffle Morty’s hair.
At that, Morty frowned and Rick hesitated, panicked that he had done something wrong. Despite years of raising his own kid, he was almost always flying by the seat of his pants. And although he felt more okay with himself when he was with Morty, it still opened him up to an uncomfortable amount of emotions and vulnerability for Rick.
“Uh Mor-“
“R-Rick? My hair—I didn’t wash my hair like momma said.” Morty said, his eyes still downcast.
Rick restrained from laughing at himself. He had honestly forgotten how easy kids actually are. It made him feel like a young dad all over again. He felt like someone who had a place in the cold, dead universe, someone who had a family. It was right then that he realized what, really, he already knew; This is the part of his life he was missing. Sure, he was a cold-blooded killer, a practically immortal space God, and an unwavering asshole. But, as much as he like to ignore it, he was also human, and no amount of alcohol was going to erase that. Goddamn it Morty. How did he manage to wriggle right into his heart without even batting an eye?
That stupid blow-my-brains-out panic rose back to his chest and Rick quickly turned around for a moment and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his lab coat. He would probably unpack all that later. Before Morty could realize anything was even wrong, Rick’s eyes were scrubbed clean of any remnants of emotion, well, as much as they could be while peering down at his sweet grandson.
“It’s okay buddy,” Rick said and scooped Morty up from under his arms. “We’re going to do a bath, okay.” Without waiting for any sign of confirmation, Rick plopped Morty down on the bathroom sink counter.
“Rickkk,” Morty whined “Uh-uh.” He shook his little head and kicked his dangling feet, ‘No’.
Rick finally turned off the shower, unfazed by Morty’s fit.
“Yes, Morty, w-we got to wash your hair-“
“No bath!” Morty kicked and pouted.
Ohh, Rick remembered. Morty felt too old for baths. That’s right. Rick was in too deep now to give up. He may not be a kid expert, but he was a scientist. He’d find a way.
“Well, Morty”, Rick said intriguingly as he kneeled down to start the bath. “I heard that s-sometimes, in some—in certain b—AUGHP—aths”, he continued while running his fingers under the water, “There areeee… sea monsters!” Rick thrilled while turning to splash Morty with some of the water on his fingers.
Morty squealed as he shielded himself from the droplets. Morty stopped kicking his feet so aggressively and stared at his grandpa to continue.
“A-and they-there are, uh, sea people too!” He continued plugging the drain now, allowing the warm water to rise. “Uh, yeah, s-sure there are sea people”, Rick muttered taking off his lab coat and rolling up the sleeves to his blue undershirt.
Morty watched, transfixed. His eyes followed Rick from his kneeling position by the tub to him throwing his lab coat on an adjacent towel shelf. Rick stood over Morty on the counter and said, “And you know was they need M-Morty? A hero! Okay?” Rick poked at Morty lovingly, this time waiting for a response.
“Okay!” Morty announced excitedly. All anti-bath thoughts were replaced with wonders of the new adventure ahead of him.
“Okay.” Rick parroted, tickling Morty where he had poked and then scooping him up off the counter.
Rick was about to deposit Morty down into the bath when he squirmed in Rick’s arm and whined.
“W-where-where are t-the sea people, grandpa Rick?”
“The? Oh. Okay, what happened to using your imagination…” He grumbled. “Kids nowadays.”
Morty just sat expectantly as Rick shifted him over to his hip with a bounce. Morty’s duck hood grazing the top of his head in the process. He held Morty in place with one hand as he reached for his discarded lab coat with the other.
“Hold on…” He grumbled. He pulled out a janky ray gun from inside his lab coat. “Okay… let’s see…” He stuck his tongue out in concentration and twisted around some dials on the gun. Morty made grabby hands at the gun.
“Uh-uh, sorry buddy, y-y—AUGH—ca-cant touch this one.” Morty was content enough getting to be by his grandpa's side though and opted to touch at Rick’s stubble instead.
“Okay, Morty, okay here,” Rick said, reverting his attention back to his grandson. He aimed the ray gun at the bath and fired. A display of toy boats and monsters, and people decorated the now sloshing bath waters. Morty gasped in amazement and clapped his hands.
“Whoahhhh…” Morty said wide-eyed. Rick beamed proudly down at the boy. He quickly tucked the gun back in his lab coat and turned off the running water before lowering Morty down again. Rick pulled the yellow towel from Morty’s shoulders just before he plugged into the water, grabbing giddily at the buoyant toys. He shrieked and slapped the water with his palms, splashing Rick.
“Ah, plegh, Morty chill,” Rick said as he wiped the bath water from his face. He was only met with a “SWOOSH” and an array of giggles from Morty as he grabbed one of the toy ships and pushed it through the waves. Despite Rick’s grumbles, as he grabbed the shampoo and began to get to work, he was grinning ear to ear.
He lathered shampoo, and then conditioner all over Morty’s floppy hair. He was careful not to get it in Morty’s eyes, regularly rinsing his hand and running it up his grandson's forehead. Rick thought at first he must be hurting him with his callused fingers and jolty movements, but the boy's soft humming and distracted dialog as he played with his toys proved contrary. As time went by, he could feel Morty growing drowsy again. His grandson’s head would lull into Rick’s touch quietly, or he would stall while he scooped up a “sea person” during a rescue. By the time Rick was cupping the last bit of water with his hands to rinse out the conditioner, Morty announced, “M’tired granp… Rick”.
“I know buddy. Hang tight.” Rick stood up slowly and stretched. He grabbed Morty’s towel off the ground and shook it out. Rick held the towel out to his grandson again, but Morty didn’t notice as his head was lulling down towards the bath water.
“Woahh there little guy” Rick said as he caught Morty’s head awkwardly with the towel scrunched up in both his hands now. He shuffled the towel the best he could while still supporting Morty’s head. Rick managed to get the hood over Morty’s head without soaking the towel. He ruffled the boy's hair dry briefly before swiftly pulling him from the water. He situated the towel snuggly around the boy’s frame and then held him close to his chest.
Never in a million years would Flesh Curtains Rick think he would be back home, swaddling his toddler grandson in a brightly colored duck towel, and soaked in bath water. But here he was, grinning sloppily and holding Morty in his strong arms like he would never let anyone lay a finger on him. Of course, this is a secret Rick would rather get shot than have to admit out loud. But nonetheless, after their bonding tonight, and despite an impressive amount of repressed feelings from Rick, it may be something he could just admit to himself begrudgingly.
Maybe it was primal instincts to take care of family, maybe some foreign drug was still circulating his system, maybe he was a clone or a robot controlled by someone else, or maybe he just loved Morty and that was enough.