Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Unlocking The Past Of The Universe's Smartest
By: Orion

CONTENT

1.The Beginning - Age 5
2.Curiosities - Age 7
2.5. Flashbacks - mini chapter - Age barely age 8
3. Inventions - Age 12
4. Realisation - Age 15
5. Realisation Part 2 - Age 15
6. New beginnings - Age 18
6.5. Friendships - mini chapter - Age 19
7. Goodbye Friend - Age 20
8. Diane - Age 23
9. family - Age 24
10. Father and Daughter - Age 26
11. Beth - Age 28
12. The Other Rick - Age 29
13. Law of balance - Age 29
14. Like father like son - Age 30
15. A clue - Age 31
16. Bird Person? - Age 33
17. Mutual agreement - Age 34
18. Most wanted man in the universe - Age 35
19. Operation KTR - Age 35
20. Federation - Age 36
21. Battle of Blood ridge - Age 37
22. Alone Again - Age 38
23. Looking for clues and Unity- Age 42
24. The hunt - Age 44
25. Notorious and feared - Age 50
26. Failure - Age 55
27. Worships and truces - Age 56
28. Finally i get my revenge - Age 60
29. Disappointment - Age 60

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Age 3

As the first rays of the morning sun crept through the window, a young boy with wavy brown hair stirred in his bed, awaking to the sounds of birds chirping right outside his window. His dark hazel nut eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the soft light filtering into his room. Stretching his tiny arms and legs, he took a deep breath and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced around his bedroom, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of his home. The bedroom obviously meant for a boy much older than him. With a yawn, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, unable to reach the bottom he hopped off and found himself stumbling to gain balance on his unsteady feet, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath his feet. He smiled to himself, excited for the adventures that awaited him on this new day.

The young boy shuffled across his bedroom and made his way to the window. The boy climbed onto the window seat, he huffed at his short stature as he struggled to get up. The five  year old was shorter than average; he peered out at the world outside, hoping to get a glimpse of the birds chirping so early in the morning. He wondered who woke the birds up. If he himself woke due to their chirps maybe they awakened from other animals' sounds? That was a question that will be answered another time when the young boy decides to stay up to watch how it happens. Taking in the sights and sounds of the neighbourhood as it slowly came to life. He spotted the birds chirped in the trees, light blue with yellow feet gripped onto the branches. Perhaps he’d ask mother what type of bird that is, the boy watched as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the great oak. He took a deep breath, feeling invigorated and ready to start the day.

With a sudden burst of energy, the boy bounded out of his room, having to hop to reach the door knob. He made his way down the hallway, his socked feet padding softly on the carpeted floor. As he entered the kitchen, the sweet smell of pancakes greeted him, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation. He smiled at his mother, who was busy at the stove flipping pancakes, and went to give her a big hug. It’s only natural as today seemed like a good day. There isn’t usually breakfast so early in the morning. 

"Good morning, Mom!" he exclaimed, running over to her to give the biggest hug while looking up at her emerald green eyes. Her sunkissed coloured hair was kept away from her face by a red headband. She wore a traditional dress that had a skirt filled with a red and brown criss-cross pattern.

His mother stiffened in response to the hug and subtly tried to get the clinging child away, much to the child's obliviousness. Looking down at the grinning child with half his face covered in messy wavy brown hair, "Good morning," she replied stiffly and winced at the rather monotonous reply, she ruffled his hair to make up for it. "Did you sleep well?"

The boy nodded, still unaware of his mothers behaviour he grinned brightly from ear to ear. 

The boy gripped at the end of the stool as he tried to lift himself onto the seat, struggling with weak shaky arms. The boy huffed in frustration as he failed for the second time. Hesitant to ask his mother for help and spoil her good mood, the young child tried again this time almost toppling over and falling. An exasperated sigh was heard from behind him, subtly looking behind him the brunette saw his mother holding a plate of blueberry pancakes looking rather disappointed. The boy looked to the floor as an indescribable feeling took over his heart. His mother placed the plate onto the table and helped the boy up without a word. As the boy was served his breakfast he was hit with slight disappointment with only having one. This did not deter him though, no he was absolutely certain that today was going to be a good day.  

 With new found motivation and excitement for the day ahead he enjoyed his breakfast with his mother, although he tried his best he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness in his heart. His father had already left for work, and he hadn’t said goodbye. He wondered what adventures his father was having at his job and wished he could be there with him.

But his mother noticed the sadness in his eyes and deminear and gave an annoyed huff, "Your father has important work to do," she said. "He provides for this family, Richard, you best not throw a tantrum every time he isn't around."

That only proved to further dampen his mood, "why don’t you entertain yourself today, head into your room maybe? Play some games on your own, maybe read a bit, you're already almost 5 and still aren’t able to pronounce some words properly," she explained. "You have school in two days, this will be a good time to revise before then."

The young boy, now known as Richard, looked up at his mother. He seemed to be looking for something on her face, maybe a hint of amusement or any clue that she’d invite him to spend the day with her. Nothing, Richard looked back down at his plate as he silently ate, disappointment soaking into his body. Standing up his mother placed her plate into the sink and left giving a short explanation to do the same with his after he was done. 

Quickly scarfing his food down, Richard looked down at the wooden floor, although it seemed like only a few inches off the ground it felt like it was lightyears away to the boy. Trying to muster up all the courage his small body could handle he closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the table. Sliding off the stool the boy dangled off the edge of the table unable to reach the floor with his feet. With a deep breath the child let go and fell straight to the floor with a thud, although he landed on his feet his lack of stability caused him to fall backwards and onto his back. Staring at the ceiling he waited for his mother to come to help him, the thud was rather loud after all. After a few minutes Richard knew no one was coming. Sitting up, Richard tried to keep his tears at bay, he knew that his parents hated crying children but the slight burn of his back started to hurt just a little too much. They were never able to deal with that amount of stress, or maybe it was just him. Standing up Richard slowly and sluggishly made his way down the hall. Tears still gracing the edges of his eyes. Plate forgotten at the table.

Taking a left at the end of the hall, the young boy walked into the small library of his family's home, the musty smell of old books filling his nostrils. The morning sun graced the room in a yellow hue of colours. He ran his hand along the spines of the volumes at the bottom most shelves, feeling the textures and imagining the stories they contained. He wondered if there was a story about a boy just like him, lonely. He had always loved this room, with its dark wood panelling and cozy armchairs. It was a place of quiet and peaceful wonder, where he could lose himself in the world of books. Although very young Richard was able to do simple addition, subtraction and multiplication, he was also able to recite the alphabet in perfection and pronounce many different words that would be considered difficult for any five year old. He was very happy the first time his parents praised him when his tutors told them he was exceptionally smart for his age. That was the first and last time he was properly praised for something. This may be the reason his parents seemed to think he should be able to handle himself well.  

He settled into one of the armchairs, pulling a tattered copy of his favourite book from the shelf, one of the very few children's books in the library, it was titled "Short Fairy Tales". As he began to read, he worded each letter and word out loud. Richard was very motivated to gain the ability to read this book in completion without many or any mistakes. He felt a sense of peace wash over him as he was getting better and better, and more interested in the stories. The outside world fading away as he delved deeper into the story. The characters came to life in his mind, a girl with a fairy godmother, and one with a red hooded child similar in size as him visiting her grandmother only to find a wolf in her place, their struggles and triumphs greatly excited him and it soon became his own. The boy lost track of time, absorbed in the magic of the written word.

As he finished the last chapter of the last story, the boy sat back in his chair, a contented smile of accomplishment on his face. He knew that he would never tire of the stories in this room, and that there were countless more adventures waiting to be discovered on the shelves around him. With a sense of wonder and awe, the boy closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the books. The tranquillity was soon over taken with excitement as he bounded out the room book in hand unable to contain the overflowing happiness at the prospect of showing his mother how well he can read.

Richard stood outside his mother's closed bedroom door, his heart pounding with anticipation. He had been looking forward to spending time with her all day, but breakfast soon brought other plans for him. Maybe now that he was able to read so well his mother would spend time with him, maybe even play a game with him. Soon uncertainty crawled up his body replacing the previous excitement. Twitching and fidgeting around the young boy was just about to turn around and leave when he remembered how happy mother was when he was first praised and how it filled him with so much warmth. Putting on his big boy boots, Richard stood tall and with all the courage he could muster and listened intently at his mothers voice talking presumably on the phone, something about how she loved the colour blue and a new dress she saw the other day. Taking a deep breath he knocked on the door and hesitantly asked, with a slight tremor and stutter, if she wanted to listen to him read the book he was holding and she gave an annoyed huff at being disturbed. He tried again, this time asking to play a game with him, she had curtly turned him away, telling him that she was busy and couldn't be bothered. She had mentioned the plate he left at the table and not in the sink like she asked him to do, looking more disappointed than ever. His mother had told him maybe she would have reconsidered had he done as he was told.

The boy felt a deep sense of disappointment, shame and rejection wash over him. He had been looking forward to this moment, and now it seemed that his mother didn't want anything to do with him. He wondered what he had done wrong? He hadn’t meant to forget about the plate, he just wanted to make his mother proud by his ability to read. Why didn't she want to spend time with him? Tears gathered in his eyes once again as he dejectedly left the room silently shutting the door behind him. The boy turned and walked slowly back to his room, carrying an air of distress with him. He sat on his bed, staring at the floor, feeling a sense of loneliness and isolation; this seemed like a familiar experience as of late. He wished that his mother would understand how much he needed her, how much he craved her attention and love.

But as the evening wore on, the boy began to realise that he couldn't force his mother to spend time with him. He would have to find ways to occupy himself and make his own fun, even if it meant doing things on his own. And so he set to work, building a fort out of blankets and pillows, creating a world of his own where he was in control. 

Although he still longed for his mother's attention, the boy learned an important lesson that day. He learned that he was strong and capable, and that he could make his own happiness even when things seemed bleak. With that new found contentment the young child decided to occupy his little world, knowing he had plenty of time as it seemed there'd be no lunch today, he’d just wait for dinner.

Soon Richard was called down for dinner, the young boy carefully crawled out of his fort and padded his way downstairs. Walking towards the opening to the kitchen he saw his mother setting out the table. Carefully Richard snuck towards the table and this time was able to get onto the chair on his third attempt. He looked up at his mother expecting a smile only to see that her back was turned as she took out the roast from the oven. Disappointment slowly crept up his spine. As she placed the most beautiful roasted chicken on the table, the front door opened and in came his father. The man looked ruffled, his dark brown hair all over the place and his brown eyes with a lazy haze. His white button down was rumpled and untucked. As his father took off his shoes and entered he gave out a long and tired sigh.

"Welcome home," his mother said as she took a seat at the table. Opposite form Richard himself.

The man took a seat at the head of the table and looked towards Richard. The young boy could help but squirm under his fathers gaze.

"Do you have anything to say Richard? Is this how you greet your father after he’s come home from a long day of work." The man explained in frustration, slightly raising his voice at the end.

"Welcome home father," Richard said.

The man sighed and muttered something along the lines of how eye contact was important. It all went over the young boy's head as he was purposely focused on his dinner. Though family dinners were rare due to his father always coming home late it seemed as if today was an exception. It wasn't as if Richard didn't like his father, no, his father was amazing when he wanted to be, sneaking him ice cream when he's been good and quiet like he asked. Tonight seemed as though his parents were about to start fighting again, it wasn't a rare occurrence and although Richard never understood precisely why they fought all he knew is that it always made him cry in the dark of his room all alone and curled up under his covers as if that would protect him. 

The young boy sat at the dinner table with his dysfunctional family, the air thick with tension and unspoken resentment. His parents bickered back and forth, sniping at each other with thinly veiled insults. The boy felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach, dreading the inevitable explosion that always seemed to accompany these family dinners. As his father launched into another tirade about politics, and morals the boy tried to tune out the noise, focusing on the food in front of him. He picked at his dinner, his appetite ruined by the toxic atmosphere around him. He wished he could just escape, go somewhere quiet and peaceful where he didn't have to deal with the constant bickering and negativity. Maybe a world where his parents loved each other and him.

But as the meal dragged on, the boy realized how alone and empty he felt. He loved his family and always tried his best to keep the peace, drawing family pictures and showing it to them and sharing candy he got from school with his parents. Nothing ever worked. And so he resolved to do his best to stay strong, to weather the storm of their dysfunction and eat his dinner as quickly as possible, after all his teachers said that he should eat more as he was  a growing boy.

As the meal finally came to a close, the boy pushed back from the table, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He knew that the next family dinner would bring the same tensions and arguments, but he also knew that maybe he could do something to help the situation better before then. So as the arguing got louder and louder Richard slowly snuck away and into his room. Softly shutting the door behind him he turned around only to be met with his room lit with the moonlight that crept through his window. Grateful as he hated the dark, Richard ran to his bed and lifted himself up and onto bed. Still able to hear shouting and yelling the young boy curled up into a ball, with hands desperately tugging at his ears trying to block out the noise. The young boy with brown wavy hair and hazel eyes cried himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Curiosities

Age: 7

As the little boy stepped into the family library, brown hair mimicking the bird's nest outside his room's window. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe, no matter how many times he’s entered this room he would never be tired of it. The room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, stretching from floor to ceiling. He wandered through the aisles, marvelling at the vast array of titles and genres. From thrilling adventure stories to classic tales of mystery and suspense, there were even nonfiction titles of science and mythology. The soft glow of the evening light filtered through the windows, casting a warm hue over the room.

As he made his way to a cozy reading nook, he noticed a particularly intriguing book on the shelf. It had a colourful cover and was filled with illustrations, beckoning him to open its pages. With a sense of excitement, he settled into the chair and began to read. The words flowed effortlessly, transporting him to a world of wonder and imagination.

The sound of the page turning filled the quiet room as the boy lost himself in the story curled up in a comfy armchair. The characters leaped off the pages, vividly coming to life in his mind's eye. As the evening light began to fade, the boy barely noticed. He learned that many of the characters had nicknames and how friends and family connect with each other through them. He was too absorbed in the book, eager to discover what would happen next. It was only when his mother called out his name that he realised how much time had passed. With a hesitant look he gazed up to look at his mother, her hair was cut short she still wore her signature red headband and her favourite blue dress. Once his mother commented how she hated the colour of his hair as it was the same colour as his fathers. Richard wondered if his hair was blue, his mothers favourite colour, that she’d like him more. He marked his place in the book and made a mental note to return to the library soon to continue. 

"Yes Mother." Richard said.

His mother didn’t hide her disdain for the fictional book he was reading, "you're still reading fairy tales at your age? I think it's time you grew up a little. Your tutors all comment how you are supposedly smart. I see none of this." His mother said with a scoff at the end. "Maybe try reading some science books or history, it'll make you more independent. That way I won’t have to do anything unnecessary for you."

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. Although he loved spending time in the cozy room surrounded by books, he knew that his mother didn't share his passion for reading. In fact, she often seemed distant and uninterested in him, which made him feel alone and unloved. He saw his mother waiting for him to do something in response to her harsh words, and yet Richard only looked down in shame. His mother, holding a bag of school supplies. She handed it to him without a word and turned to leave, muttering about how he should leave for school on his own tomorrow. The boy felt a pang of disappointment. Even though he was grateful for the new supplies, he longed for a mother who would show him affection and take an interest in his life.

He opened the bag to inspect the contents, and his heart lifted at the sight of a new notebook and a set of colourful pens. He eagerly imagined filling the pages with stories and drawings, Maybe even some blueprints of some of his inventions he was thinking of making, his imagination soaring once again. As much as he had loved the fictional world of books, what he loved even more was discovering the wonders of the world, all the science and history that never seemed to end. Richard had loved discovering what the world had to offer and what it all held, he was constantly pursuing his curiosities and asking questions. 

Although his parents hated it when he asked them something that he was curious about, why was the sky blue? Or why did the stars constantly move across the sky slowly. When he did ask these questions he was pushed around by his father, that always left him a little worse for wear, and frustrated words always left his mother, although he didn't understand the string of swears that were directed at him he always felt a sense of shame and sadness. He learned to stop asking then when his father had started to fight more with his mother, even going as far as to hit her on why he was such a, as he put it, ‘annoying little bastard’. His mother didn’t deserve to be hurt, it was his fault after all.

 He knew that even though his mother and father might not understand his love for books and writing, he could still find joy in them on his own. The boy spent the rest of the evening scribbling in his new notebook, lost in his own world of words and ideas. As the night wore on, he began to feel a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that he didn't need his mother's or father's approval or affection to pursue his passions. He ignored the little voice in his head that cried out in disappointment and anguish, feelings that he’d never be fond of.

As he left the room, the evening light slowly faded, leaving the books bathed in a soft, comforting darkness. The library would always be a place of wonder and adventure for the little boy, and he couldn't wait to go to school tomorrow for his first day. As he walked into his room, as the science-loving child he is, his room was a unique and fascinating space that reflects his passion for exploration and experimentation. The walls are adorned with posters of famous scientists, scientific diagrams, and space-themed artwork. The room is bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting a warm light over the numerous textbooks, papers, and notes scattered across the desk. All filled with scribbles of new ideas and diagrams of the solar system and the world in general. In one corner of the room, there is a bookshelf filled to the brim with science books that he snuck from the library downstairs, from classic texts like Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time" to the latest scientific journals and magazines that he found while outside. 

The teenager's bed is adorned with a simple grey comforter and pillows. Above, on the ceiling of his room were badly cut out images of stars, planets, and galaxies all hung onto the ceiling with pieces for string. He had begged his mother to help put them up but to no avail and so he created a solution. Using a long stick he placed each sting on to the end of it and slowly lifted it up to paste them up there. He was so proud of himself in the end that he ran to his father wanting to show him. It didn't go as planned, his father was busy on the phone shouting and all his excitement faded as he was kicked out of the room. That was the 1st time his father had hit him.

On the walls, there are displays of the teenager's own scientific experiments, ranging from basic chemistry projects, of dyes and potatoes to more complex robotics using different scrap materials to create different robots, although they don't move on their own yet. The desk is cluttered with beakers, microscopes, and other scientific equipment that he got from his tutors when they left, along with a computer and various scientific websites, tabs such as ‘The Big Bang’ and ‘top 7 Most interesting mysteries of the ocean’.

Overall, the bedroom of a science-loving child is a fascinating and inspiring space, where the wonders of the universe are brought to life through the child’s passion and curiosity. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, dreaming of the stories he would create in the pages of his new notebooks and pens that were gifted to him by his mother.

As the Young boy woke up to the sound of his alarm clock, the annoying beeping constantly went off in the same constant rhythm. He groggily rubbed his eyes and checked the time. He knew he had to hurry if he wanted to make it to school on time. With a quick stretch, he hopped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face. As he looked in the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the bruise on his cheek from his father's slap the night before. He felt a deep sense of sadness and depression, knowing that his father was under a lot of stress due to his business going bankrupt and that it was his fault he got hit in the first place. He knew better than to disturb his father during one of his important calls. Despite the pain and humiliation, the boy knew that he had to hurry lest he be late for his first day.

After quickly showering and getting dressed, a simple blue shirt and black pants, the boy dashed to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. He opened the fridge to find that there wasn't much to choose from, but he managed to find some eggs and bread. As he cracked the eggs into a bowl and heated up the pan, he felt a sense of numbness and detachment, knowing that he had to go through the motions of his daily routine. As he ate his eggs and toast, he flipped through a science magazine that he had been reading a few days ago. The articles fascinated him, and he felt a sense of escape and solace in the wonders of the natural world. He made a mental note to ask his science teacher about some of the concepts he had read about in the magazine.

Just as he was finishing his breakfast, the boy caught a glimpse of his father passed out on the couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles. He felt a mix of sadness and frustration, knowing that his father's alcoholism had become a constant source of turmoil in their family. Despite the disappointment that Richard himself was unable to do anything, the boy knew that he had to focus on his own hobbies for now as they never seem to disappoint or sadden him, unlike his parents, sometimes he wished his father was kind and loving towards him just like in the past.

With a sense of emptiness and detachment, the boy gathered his school bag and headed out the door. Whispering a dejected ‘I'm leaving’ and opening the door. The morning sunlight shone through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. As he stepped out onto the street, he took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling a sense of hopelessness and despair for the day ahead. As he walked to school, the boy's mind was clouded with negative thoughts and emotions. He couldn't shake off the feeling of depression and isolation, knowing that he had to endure another day of pain and suffering. Despite the challenges and obstacles ahead, the boy tried to hold onto the hope that one day things would get better. Now that he was going to primary school things would change with his family. With every step, he felt more determined to persevere, even in the darkest of times.

As the boy arrived at the primary school gates, they were coloured in a dark green and had a rounded top, he felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He looked around and noticed all the other kids had their parents with them, hugs and kisses on their forehead as goodbyes and ‘have fun’ were said. A pang of loneliness hit him along with another indescribable feeling. It was heavy and almost brought frustrated tears in his eyes, later that night while reading a book he'd discover that it was jealousy that he was feeling. 

 Snapping himself out of his inner turmoil, it was his first day of school, and he was eager to learn and make new friends, with newfound optimism he walked into the gates and towards the entrance. The school was a large brick building with a sprawling playground towards the back, a notice board was displayed at the entrance with a list of names and classes, Richard quickly found his neatly written, "Richard Danial Sanchez". It was under class 1A. He walked into the building and rows of classrooms were lining the hallways. The boy followed the signs to his classroom and eagerly pushed open the door.

Inside, the boy's classroom was a bright and cheerful space that was filled with colourful decorations and learning materials. The walls were covered in posters that featured images of animals, letters, numbers, and inspirational quotes. The bulletin boards were lined with student artwork, displaying a range of styles and techniques. The room had a large whiteboard at the front of the room where the teacher would write lesson notes and draw diagrams to help explain concepts. The boy's desk was located near the back of the classroom, next to a large window that let in natural light. His desk was made of a sturdy metal frame with a laminated wooden top, which was covered in doodles and scribbles from previous students. There was a cubby underneath the desk where he could store his books and other belongings.

On the desk, the boy found a pencil case filled with a brand new set of pencils, markers, and erasers, which made him feel excited and eager to learn. He also found a notebook and a textbook that he knew he would be using throughout the year. The desk had a small metal basket on the top where he could store his pens and pencils, and there was a colourful name tag attached to the front of the desk with his name written in bold letters.

As the boy sat down in his seat, he felt a sense of anticipation and excitement about what the school year would bring. He looked around at the other students in the room, and he could see that they were all just as excited as he was. Some were already friends with eachothers and laughing about something someone said. He hoped that he would make new friends although it seemed to make him anxious, but he was determined and wanted to learn new things especially science and history.

The teacher, a kind-looking woman with a warm smile, and ginger hair that curled around her neck and shoulders. She welcomed the boy to the class and introduced him to his new classmates. "Hello everyone today we have a new boy in class today, why don't you introduce yourself Richard."

Richard knew he was the odd one out, starting a week late, his parents had forgotten all about his primary school until he brought it up himself. Everyone turned to look at him and hesitantly and with anxiousness brewing in the pit of his stomach, Richard introduced himself. "h-Hello, my name is Richard Sanchez," Quickly remembering what he read yesterday he added in a softer tone, "y-you can call me Rick."

 They were a diverse group of kids, each with their own unique personalities and interests. They were all wearing very different clothing, varying in colour and style. One wore a fluffy red jacket and jeans, another wore a cute headband that had a bow on it, and she was wearing a pink dress. The boy felt a sense of shyness at first, but as he started to twitch under their stares, his teacher in a joyful tone smiled and looked at him, "let's all give Rick a warm welcome," she continued "hello Rick im Elizabeth but you can call me Ms. Liz,"

Smiling Rick blushed and looked back down at his desk, his brown fringe covering his eyes. Throughout the day, the boy learned about basic maths concepts, spelling, and writing. He felt a sense of excitement as he wrote his name perfectly on his worksheets and gained praise from Ms. Liz at how neatly it was written, little did she know Rick had spent hours perfecting his name trying to make his parents proud and acknowledge him. He had learned how to count to the hundreds. 

As the day progressed, the boy felt a sense of pride and accomplishment as he completed each task with practised ease and a sense of calmness. English, Maths, Science passed and his mood was greatly improved with each passing moment, for once completely forgetting about his life at home. Everytime he got an answer right or asked a question he wasn’t met with the usual eye roll or scoff, not even a yell, instead he was graced by a smile and patience. Ms. Liz and his other teachers all answered every question and praised him for his curiosity.

The other kids in the classroom soon joined each class in asking questions and voicing out their curiosities no longer feeling hesitant and shy but instead excited and delighted. During recess, Rick was invited to play by a taller boy, he had blond hair and blue eyes, he wore a striped red and white t-shirt and grey shorts to match. The boy introduced himself as Jason and ran outside to the playground, Rick followed after him where he saw a group of kids playing tag. He felt a sudden rush of energy as he joined in the game, running and dodging through the other kids. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of joy and excitement openly laughing and giggling.

As the day came to a close, the boy packed up his things and said goodbye to his teacher and classmates. Just as he was about to leave Ms.Liz called out to him. Rick turned around and noticed it was just him and his teacher in the classroom left. With a questioning look on his face he asked, "Yes Ms.Liz?"

"Did you have fun today?" She asked in the softest tone he had ever heard, blushing Rick felt a new unknown sensation in his heart, he didn't know how to react to the warmth that her voice left him with so instead of thinking about it Rick excitedly spoke of his day and how much fun he had.

Ms. Liz patiently nodded along and smiled as Rick spoke away. At the end of his little speech Ms. Liz replied in slight enthusiasm, "That's amazing, I'm so happy for you, but I have to ask that you do know you can come to me for anything right?" 

Confused on where this conversation was going, Rick nodded, and in a quiet whisper of concern Ms. Liz asked, "This morning you came to class with a slight bruise on your cheek, I have to ask how did you get it?"

Rick felt his world shake and wanted the floor beneath him to open up and swallow him whole. Not only was he embarrassed to say the real reason he got it, as surely she’d not like him as much after just like his parents. Maybe she’d finally realise that Rick asked too many questions sometimes and could be annoying. But today was different, no one condemned him for asking as many questions as he could and no one yelled at him either. So maybe it was alright to tell Ms. Liz and she’d understand. All of a sudden Rick remembered words his father had spoken to him during one of his bad nights.

It was late at night, stars high in the sky and moon in a crescent. A young boy was curled up in a tight ball on the cold hard wooden floor as his father stood above him and swung a bottle of alcohol down at him. It shattered next to the young brunette's head, slightly cutting his forehead. Rick never knew when his dad would come home from work, nowadays he was always smelling of perfume and alcohol. Sometimes he would yell at him for no reason or because Rick asked a question or said something. Rick was always on edge, walking on eggshells around his father, trying his best to stay out of his way whenever he was like this.

The worst part was when he would drink so much that he would pass out on the couch, reeking of alcohol and puke. The young boy remembers feeling so scared and alone in those moments, wondering when he would wake up and start yelling again. Despite all of this, Rick still loved his father. Rick remembers a time where ice cream from his dad would cheer him up after harsh words and punishments.

This time Rick had accidentally bumped into his father while he was on one of his drunk charades and induced his fathers anger. Getting pushed to the floor Rick was yelled at with different profanities and harsh words all to hurt and inflict pain onto him. That's when his father threw his bottle of alcohol at him. Rick flinched and curled up tighter into a ball, shaking and trembling all over.  Just as it looked like his father was going to leave, Rick was harshly grabbed by the back of his shirt, his feet no longer touching the floor and scrambling for purchase. His father spoke in slurred and barely understandable words. 

"Y-yooouuuu b-better not tell anyoneeee about this, *hicc* you little runt. No one would believe you any-anyways. Y-y-y-your smart aren't you? Maaake up a reason for those bruisesssss," His father shook him and dropped him on the floor. 

Just as Rick was about to be grabbed yet again, his mother entered the room, and spoke up, "Joseph, I think it's time to leave the annoying brat alone and head to bed." 

"Marina, y-yyooouu whore how dare you show yyyouur face to me, don't tell me you actually love this - this - this thing,"

"What nonsense are you talking about, I just don't want the cops to come knocking when this kid disappoints yet again and rats you out,"

And just like that Rick watched and his parents bickered on what to do back and forth. Soon his mother was able to calm his father down from his rage. With soft words and whispered replies Rick watched as his parents walked away into the bedroom, leaving him on the floor watching their backs.

"Rick? You ok?" Rick snapped back into the present and looked up at Ms. Liz, it seemed as though she was concerned. Realising that she was waiting for a reply Rick hesitantly replied, "y-yea, I’m okay, I just, I hit my kitchen's glass door as i was rushing outside. Thats - thats how I got the bruise."

 Rick watched as Ms.Liz looked almost in concentration at his words, he didn't understand why? Was his excuse weak? Not believable?

Ms.Liz quickly replied as she realised that she was staring a little too intently at the young boy, "alright rick just know i'm always here if you need me, you may head home. I’ll see you tomorrow," she added a smile at the end. 

Rick nodded and left the classroom, as he walked out mind was occupied, he wondered if he made the right choice. Maybe in a different scenario Rick would have told her everything, all the sadness and fear in his tiny heart. Maybe after he tells her everything she would have helped  him and maybe his life would have been better. He knew that cps would have taken him away if they had deemed his home unsafe, maybe he would have been placed in a home, maybe in a different timeline Ms, Liz adopts him and his life gets better. Rick could only wonder what would have happened and for once Rick wondered if leaving his family would be better than staying.

Rick exited the building and watched as the other kids were picked up one by one, they were greeted by their parents with hugs and soft words of dinner waiting at home for them. He began to feel a sense of unease. He started to wonder why his parents never came to get him; it wasn't all that surprising . As the minutes ticked by, the crowd of waiting parents slowly dissipated until he was the only one left. It was then that he realised he would have to walk home alone. Feeling embarrassed and alone, the boy started the long walk home. He walked past groups of kids playing in the park, wishing he could join in their fun. As he walked, he started to feel angry and hurt that his parents hadn’t bothered to pick him up. He didn't understand why they couldn't be there for him like the other kids' parents were, why they didnt love and cherish him like the others.

As he walked through his neighbourhood, he saw families sitting on their porches or walking their dogs, and he couldn't help but feel envious of their happy homes. When he finally arrived home, he found that his parents were fighting as usual and they had gotten so caught up in it that they barely acknowledged him as he walked to the kitchen. He felt neglected and alone. Rick quickly opened the fridge and grabbed a sandwich he had made the day before. He then quickly and quietly ran up to his room and silently shut his door. 

Still able to hear his parents' shouts, Rick wore some earphones and played some music on his ipod, he found the broken ipod in the trash and decided to fix it up. It was surprisingly easy for the young boy to do. Slowly Rick went through the motions of his bedtime routine alone. The shouting had quieted down for the time being and as much as Rick wanted to leave his room and seek his parents for some comfort he knew it’ll be a bad idea instead Rick hopped in bed and fell asleep to the soothing music that played into his ears. Rick hoped that tomorrow would be better.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2.5: A New Rick

Age 8

Joseph Javier Sanchez and Marina Julietta Sanchez got married in early October 1960. The pair never wanted children in the first place, but one thing led to another and Marina soon found herself carrying a baby that was already 6 weeks old when she found out. To say Joseph was furious would be an understatement. Joseph had just started a business that was starting to take off,  John F Kennedy even signed off on it, Joseph did not want to provide for a child or deal with one either, abortion was not an option at the time thus the baby will be born. 

They had their first child on July 4th 1963, a healthy baby boy with brown hair and hazel eyes. They named him Richard Daniel Sanchez. Like any other parent they did the necessary requirements to raise the child, they kept it fed, bathed it, changed it, they did it all. The bare minimum is what they did. Joseph was focusing more and more on his work and Marina was working with a crying baby all day everyday. Eventually every moment the pair were together they were fighting and arguing. At least they could agree on one thing. They both hate the child. 

It seemed to them as if their lives were nothing but miserable the moment the child was born and so the minute the child showed even the slightest bit of intelligence, intelligence that no three year old should have. They praised him and started to stop helping him with his daily requirements. Soon they never even spoke his name. Marina was more focused on her friends and her social life whereas Joseph was more focused on his work and ‘work friends’. It didn't take long for the pair to fall out once more this time bringing the child into arguments.

Joseph came home more times smelling of other women's perfumes and with rumpled clothing and messy hair. Marina was getting gifts and other expensive objects from a ‘friend’. They do say birds of a feather flock together. The only reason they stayed together was for the tax benefits. Getting a divorce was never easy, it was expensive and caused your public image to get destroyed. 

Joseph hated his child; he never understood how one kid could talk so much. One day Joseph asked the boy to shut up and sit still for once in his life and it was like a miracle, silence. After Joseph finished with his work he realised that Rick was still seated where he left him with tears in his eyes. Feeling bad Joseph had bought him ice cream to make up for it. 

The next couple of times Joseph got annoyed with the kid would cause the man to shout and yell. 18th August 1967, the first time Joseph hit the kid. It was a slap to the face after the kid started another one of his rambles. It did the job Joseph intended it to do, but also made the child cry and run away. Joseph didn't mind that much as long as he had his peace to do his work.

Marina hated her child; she never understood how one kid couldn’t do the simplest of tasks. Marina never once laid a hand on the child, be that to inflict pain or to give the kid comfort. She had stopped any and all touch with the child when he was three, whenever the child would hug her she’d stiffen and push the child away. One day Marina was so frustrated with the crying child that she told him that she was going to leave and never come back if he continued to do so. It worked like a miracle.

The next couple of times Marina used the same line she’d add more and more for example, ‘This is why i never wanted you,’ or ‘your the reason for all my pain,’. The more she said the more that child grew distant and withdrawn. Once the fighting with Joseph turned physical, she never bothered to help the child when her husband would hit him. Sure she felt bad but in her mind the kid probably did something to piss her husband off first. She fed him the necessary amount to keep him alive but never any more, sure that means he’s a little smaller than average but it isn't anything important enough to fix.  She told herself that she didn’t care for the child.

Soon Joseph’s business started going downhill and he started to drink more alcohol, bankruptcy was just around the corner and he was doing whatever he could to stay afloat. Sure his personal finances would not be impacted but he would lose thousands of dollars that he placed in this company of his. The more he drank the more violent he got and the more people he slept with. Soon Joseph was just another drunk bum living at home constantly drinking and hitting everything that crosses his path. Marina had her inheritance money and she planned to just give half away to the kids' education that was until college. The kid could pay for himself after.

Soft evening rays entered the young boys bedroom painting the room in a multitude of orange and red hues. The sun was setting and Rick sat at his desk looking as dejected as ever, trying to work on one of his many projects. Today was another day filled with sadness and rejection. A long tired sigh left his lips as he stopped working on the scrap metal he was ironing out. Rick sat back against his chair and looked to his ceiling. He almost seemed at peace, and soon Rick's eyes lit up as an idea struck his mind. For all his intelligence Rick decided to try to become someone his parents could love and cherish. Maybe if he changes himself enough they’d notice and give him attention.

It was small and subtle at first. Less chatter and more quietness, his father seemed to appreciate it at least. He said so after all. Though even if his father had started to hit him less he still felt saddened, his mother was still unresponsive towards him. Rick had tried everything from cleaning to making breakfast, and from drawing pictures to getting gifts for his mother. Nothing seemed to work. Until that is the young boy remembered how much his mother seemed to hate his hair due to its similar nature to his fathers.

The young boy had always been a curious and inventive child who always loved exploring the world around him. He spent hours reading books and conducting experiments in his makeshift laboratory, which was set up in a corner of his bedroom. He secretly took chemicals from his school chemistry lab to finish his experiments. From making a solution that can clean any and all stains to a chemical that can change an ant's behaviour to a more independent one that that of its natural colony mindset. But despite his constant curiosity and enthusiasm, the boy's mother never seemed to show much interest in him. No matter what he did, she always seemed distant and unimpressed. 

This time his idea would surely win her approval, the boy decided to use his passion for science to do something drastic. He spent weeks researching the chemical compounds needed to permanently dye hair and conducting various experiments until he found the perfect formula; it took weeks of trial and error. After mixing together a precise combination of chemicals, he applied the solution to his hair and waited for the transformation to take place.

When his mother saw him with his new blue hair, she was taken aback. For the first time, she seemed genuinely interested and surprised in her son. At first nothing was said so Rick hesitantly told her how much he knew that she liked the colour blue and so he dyed his hair permanently blue. An unrecognisable look over took her features as Rick's hazel eye looked up at her, biting his lips he looked back down thinking that his plan didn’t work he was about to walk away. A hand on his head stopped him, as his mother for the first time since he could remember, had initiated contact with him. Shocked to silence Rick looked up at her emerald green eyes and wasn’t able to understand what his mother was thinking. Time seemed to almost stop as they looked into each other's eyes, each searching for something.

As soon as it happened it stopped, his mother took off her hand and walked away in silence. The young boy placed a gentle hand on the area where his mother had placed hers. Rick felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, he was overjoyed at knowing that he had finally caught his mother's attention. He ran back to his room and softly shut the door behind him. Rick ran to his bed and jumped onto it pushing his face into a pillow and letting out a squeal of delight, kicking his feet back and forth. All while laughing and overjoyed.

As days passed he continued to experiment and create new ideas, the boy's love for science only grew stronger. He became more confident in his abilities and more dedicated to his craft, always striving to make a difference in the world. And even though his blue hair garnered some attention and curiosity from his peers, he wore it with pride, knowing that it made his mother look at him properly. His mother made lunch more often and even though times got rough and he still got pushed around by his father, his mother had rarely said anything to him, even if that meant no kind endearments or support, which he never got before, it also meant that there weren’t and harsh remarks that would hurt him as well.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Inventions

Age 12

As the morning sun began to filter through the window of a small bedroom, the merlins outside started to chirp. Rick had stayed up one night when he was six to watch how the birds awoke, he wanted to record every little detail down, the cause, the factors that will contribute to the birds awakening, and even had a list of procedures on how he would stay up and materials he would need. It took weeks for Rick to find a satisfying conclusion, he wrote all his findings into a book, ‘Richard Sanchez’s Interesting findings vol 1’.

Page 213

The merlins. 

Merlins are birds that are relatively small and very agile. Research shows that merlins come from the falcon family, they live all around the world but most notably across North America, Europe, and Asia. They can even be found in tundras and not just forests. ‘101 birds: everything and anything about birds’. 

From careful observation it should be noted that merlins are carnivorous and mainly feed on smaller birds. Example: sparrows and finches, their diet don’t stop there no, they ever feast on small insects and rodents. Any small prey is suitable for merlins to consume. 

They are skilled hunters, fast and very agile, they circle their prey and swoop in with an incredible speed of exactly, 60 miles per hour. This is only an average speed as I have noted that some merlins have flown faster as well. They are able to manoeuvre quickly and make sudden turns in mid-air, which helps them catch small birds and other prey in flight. Merlins are also capable of hovering in place for short periods of time, which allows them to scan the ground for potential prey. 

During the breeding season, merlins form monogamous pairs and build nests in trees, cliffs, or other elevated locations. The female lays 3-6 eggs, which both parents take turns incubating for about a month. The young merlins hatch covered in white down feathers and are fed by their parents for several weeks until they are ready to leave the nest and start hunting on their own. I have also noticed that merlins are migratory birds and move to different locations depending on the season. In the winter, some merlins migrate south to warmer climates, while others stay in their breeding range throughout the year.

As for why all kinds of birds are able to awake as the sun rises it is all due to evolution. Birds have evolved to wake up early in the morning for several reasons, including as observed to forage for food, establish territories, and avoid predators. 

One main reason why birds are able to wake up so early is that their internal biological clocks. I have speculated that they have some sort of internal timer that tells them the time. It is natural after all as they can't exactly read the time. After further research I was correct. It was also known as circadian rhythms, which are finely tuned to the daily cycles of light and darkness. This means that birds are naturally programmed to wake up at dawn, which is when the sun begins to rise and the light levels increase.

Additionally, birds have highly developed senses that allow them to detect changes in the environment. An example of this that I have observed is, many birds can hear the first sounds of insects and other animals that become active at dawn, signalling that it's time to start foraging for food. Birds also have excellent vision that allows them to see in low-light conditions, which is important for navigating their environment and finding food sources during the early morning hours.

Another factor that may contribute to birds' ability to wake up early is their need for rest. Most birds sleep at night to conserve energy and avoid predators, and waking up early allows them to get a head start on their daily activities while still leaving time for rest and recuperation during the hottest parts of the day. —-----

More on the next page.

A twelve year old  inventor sat hunched over his latest sci-fi contraption. He had been up all night, fueled by caffeine and a fierce determination to bring his creation to life. But as the blue haired child worked, he couldn't shake the feeling of isolation that always seemed to weigh him down. He had learned to ignore it for a long time but it seems as though today was just an off day. Rick was becoming a brilliant inventor and becoming a more creative individual, but he often felt like an outsider. He spent most of his time tinkering with his sci-fi inventions, dreaming up fantastical worlds and technologies that he hoped would change the world, or his world at least. His parents didn't care for his obsession with science fiction, and his classmates thought he was weird, especially now with his bright blue hair. But he didn't care all that much. People were overrated anyways. 

As Rick worked on his latest invention, a small robot that could explore and identify hostile environments, and send information back into a small hand held device he created. As like anytime Rick got carried away with his own excitement that he lost track of time. He hadn’t realised that 2 days had already passed, nor his rumbling stomach. Although the hunger didn't bother him all that much he was used to it anyways. The only thing that mattered was the project in front of him. He had designed every part himself, from the powerful propulsion system to the intricate sensors that would allow the robot to navigate treacherous terrain, he even added a little defence mechanism that would allow the robot to cull into a ball to protect itself should it need to. He was so engrossed in his work that he barely noticed the passing hours or well days.

Just then, his phone rang, and he hesitantly picked it up. It was his best friend, well Jason liked to call himself that anyways, who he had known since elementary school. As much as Rick liked to say he hated that he had to hang out with Jason all the time, it wasn’t actually reality. Rick loved the movie nights Jason seemed to drag him to, and he loved that even though Jason couldn’t understand Rick's ramblings sometimes he would still listen. His friend was the only person who truly understood the inventor and shared his love for science fiction. 

They often talked for hours about the latest books, movies, and video games, debating the merits of different theories and technologies, they even made trouble together much to Rick's hesitance. Once when Rick was 9 Jason convinced Rick to make a tiny confetti bomb that would go off when he said a keyword. The word being ‘salmon’. Rick had thought the choice of word was odd and would be hard to put into a sentence without it sounding weird. Jason insisted that it had to be a word that was funny.

"But why salmon? Why not an easier word like……. Morning or pencil."

"Rick Rick Rick, my bestest of friends. Salmon is a great word, not to mention it's funny too." Jason explained rocking Rick back and forth with his hands on Rick's shoulders. 

"Bestest" is not a proper word, Salmon isn’t a funny word, it's a type of fish. Besides, how are you going to use salmon in a sentence?" Rick was starting to sound tired, he hadn’t had time to sleep with all the shouting and yelling of his parents from downstairs. You’d think they’d get tired of it eventually.

"Bestest" is too proper a word. I just used it as such. But that's not the point. The point is just trust me Rick, it’ll make you laugh." Jason looked at Rick grinning ear to ear. Rick had stopped trying to understand his strange and eccentric friend and had learned to go with the flow. 

Rick soon found himself nodding, agreeing to this plan and got to work on the confetti bomb right there and then. On the floor of his not best friend's bedroom. Jason started to ramble on a new tv-show he had been watching, Rick didn’t mind, in fact Rick enjoyed the company. That’s how their day went, Rick sitting on the floor, scattered items all around him as Jasom rambled and passed Rick any supplies that he had seemed to need.

A few days later found the young boys sneaking the confetti bomb that was neatly wrapped and looking like a gift onto their teacher's table. Rick had started to feel nervous and regretful about what they had done, but Jason was beside himself with excitement.

Finally, the moment arrived and Ms.Liz asked the class who had set the ‘gift’ on the table. She proceeded  to gently pick it up.

"It was us, we thought that it’ll be a good idea to get you something for all you’ve done for us." Jason with a cheeky grin on his face couldn’t hide his mischievous side. Rick on the other hand started to feel the familiar anxiety start to creep up his spine.

‘What if ms. Liz gets mad? What if she starts yelling.’ Rick's mind was reeling and he started to regret it all. He didn’t want Ms. Liz to turn out just like his parents. Rick loved his teacher, she was kind and patient and whenever he showed up to school with bruises on his face she’d patch him up with softly spoken words and gentle hands. She never questioned where his bruises came from anymore, not after the last time he started to bite his lips so hard they bled and curled into a ball, breathing heavily.

"Oh thank you boys, how lovely," Ms. Liz knew something was up, especially with Jason acting like a child that was just told he could get unlimited ice cream, and Rick looking like a nervous wreck. 

As the blue eyed teacher went to open the gift. The container exploded with a loud pop sound, showering the entire classroom with colourful confetti, only a moment after Jason yelled out "salmon!" at the top of his lungs. There was a moment of silence in the class as everyone was stunned. Rick was terrified, shoulders tensed and fists clenched at the end of his blue t- shirt.

Soon the class erupted into laughter and their teacher looked bewildered and confused. Jason couldn't contain his laughter either, looking at the blond teacher's face. Ms. Liz soon realised what had happened and turned to Rick, Rick flinched slightly and quickly looked down, shutting his eyes as tight as possible. Just as he was about to apologise soft laughter sounded from above him. Ms. Liz had started to laugh louder and louder, Rick looked up stunned and some of the tension left his shoulders. He gave an uneasy smile as he watched his teacher laugh so hard she almost toppled over. Jason wasn’t doing as well to keep upright, as he was kneeling on the floor wheezing. 

It didn’t take long for Rick to join in the fun and start to laugh as well. It was a day to remember. Rick felt so relieved and happy for the rest of the day, not even cleaning up ruined his mood. Especially when Jason was there constantly making a mess again and again, making him laugh more and more. 

Back to the story at hand. 

On the phone Jason, his dear friend, had explained how he was waiting for him outside, and they were going to be late if he didn't hurry. The inventor was disappointed but not surprised. Jason's call also provided a much-needed distraction from his work. For a few minutes, he had forgotten about his inventions and remembered that there was a world outside his small bedroom. Rick gave a hasty reply, a jumble of words and half understandable and the other not, he was starting to feel the fatigue plague him from his lack of sleep. 

After the call ended, Rick had groggily rubbed his eyes and soon the inventor found himself running around his room. He realised that his room was a mess. His inventions and random gadgets were scattered everywhere, and his bed was covered in a pile of clothes. Rick knew he had to hurry if he wanted to make it to school on time, but the mess in his room was making it hard to find anything. Not even his backpack could be seen. Rick carefully made his way through the maze of wires and gadgets on the floor, trying not to trip over anything and mess up his previous notes and planning.

He searched through the piles of clothes on his bed to find his best looking shirt. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he found a black shirt with an image of an alien spaceship made out of trash on the front of it. Buried underneath a pile of socks were some black jeans that Jason had gotten him for his birthday, after realising that Rick never wore anything else other than some tattered brown shorts.

Next, he made his way over to his desk to grab his science project, which was buried under a pile of papers and books. As he picked up the project, he accidentally knocked over a jar of screws, which spilled all over the floor and scattered some even rolling underneath his bookshelf. Rick sighed and started to pick up the screws, carefully placing them back into the jar. He knew he couldn't leave them on the floor or he would risk stepping on them later. 

Looking around Rick had tried to remember where he had last left his backpack. Making his way to the light switch, Rick hesitantly turned them on and winched at the brightness they provided. The only light Rick was exposed to was his desk lamp and nothing else. Rick made his way to the bathroom door, carefully avoiding his many inventions and gadgets. He knew that he needed to clean his room when he got home, but for now, he was just happy to be getting ready for school. 

As he left the room, after finding his backpack under one of the shelves in his room, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing Jason again. Running straight down the stairs and out the door, not bothering to look back to see if his parents were around, Rick saw Jason, brown hair and green eyes smiling. Running towards him Jason gave Rick a hug and immediately knew Rick had spent his weekend alone in his room by the way Rick pushed into the touch. 

Sighing Jason said, "don’t tell me you were in your room all weekend again?"

Almost shyly Rick looked down slightly embarrassed, "I wanted to finish this new project, you see it's a tiny robot tha-,"

Interrupted by Jason, "Rick c’mon you should have called me i’d have come running, have you eaten? That was rhetorical, of course you didn’t. Knowing you, you were probably too into your project to realise how much time was passing."

Rick, a head shorter than Jason, looked like he wanted to refute that statement, but thought otherwise letting Jason win this round. Soon they started their journey to school, the familiar sights no longer intriguing them as they have seen them time and time again. 

As they walked, they chatted about everything from the latest movies to their upcoming exams to space and moving from topic to topic seamlessly.

Jason looked over at Rick and grinned. “So, have you found a way to clone yourself yet? I could use a genius like you to help me study for my exams.”

Rick laughed. “Sorry, Jason. As far as I know, cloning humans is still impossible.”

Jason playfully punched Rick's arm. “Ah, you're no fun. I’m sure if you try hard enough you’ll figure it out.”

Rick grinned. “Of course I’d be the one to figure it out but I’m not all that interested, and you're no Einstein so you can’t do it. But I guess we balance each other out.”

Jason laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, I guess we do. You're the brains, and I'm the brawn.”

Rick smirked. “I think you mean the goofball.”

Jason shrugged. “Hey, I may not be a genius like you, but at least I'm not afraid to have a little fun.”

Rick chuckled. “Fair enough. But don't forget, we have that science project due tomorrow. And I don't think our teacher will be impressed if we turn in a volcano made out of pizza boxes.”

Jason grinned. “What, you mean our teacher isn't a fan of pizza box volcanoes? I'm shocked.”

“Believe it or not, our teacher actually expects us to do some real science.”

Jason shook his head. “You're no fun, Rick. But I guess I'll have to suffer through it with you.”

Rick grinned. “Don't worry, Jason. We'll ace this project. And you want to know why?”

Jason looked confused and asked. “Why?”

“Because I saved us the trouble and made this,” Rick handed Jason a robotic black bird, it looked like it was made out of half trash and half cardboard.

With great enthusiasm Jason asked, “Wooooh what is it?”

“Jason it seems as though I have overestimated your intelligence if you haven’t seen a bird before,” Rick smirked.

“Oh shuv off, you know what i mean, what does it do?”

“It uses wind direction and adjusts its wings to stay afloat,” Rick explained as simply as possible, “Don’t worry though, I know how much you wanted to help. That is what I left the report writing to you.”

Rick left running the rest of the way to school leaving Jason behind, hearing Jasoon yell something about hating doing the reports and running after him. 

A few hours later…..

It was nearing the end of the day and Jason was starting to doze of to the sound of Mr. Lim’s droning voice explaining the history of the world and its eras. Looking to his left were A row of glass windows filtering soft yellow evening light into the classroom. Jason looked towards Rick and watched as the young blue haired boy was hunched over his desk scribbling away at a piece of paper. Curiosity took over Jason as he watched Rick work away without stopping. It always amazed him how Rick's mind worked, it seemed to just understand and interpret that world around him. Rick was rather brilliant, always keeping Jason himself in the loop, and including him as much as Jason himself includes Rick. 

Jason didn't know much of Rick's home life, whenever he suggested going to his house it never failed to distress Rick as he stammered out an excuse as to why that wasn’t possible. Jason wasn’t blind and he suspected Ms. Liz wasn’t either. Rick was always showing up with bruises and scratches, he never had new clothes and was always jumpy around new people, not to mention how small and thin the kid was. Even if Jason was unable to protect Rick when he was at home, Jason would take every opportunity to invite Rick over to his and stuff his face with all kinds of foods and give Rick his clothes. Once Jason gave one of his hoodies for Rick to wear when Rick decided to stay over and take a shower, the black hoodie completely dwarfed him. The bottom of the hoodie was almost to Rick's knees and the sleeves were way too long. Although it only concerned Jason more, he started to tease Rick instead, not wanting to upset the other boy by asking questions. 

Jason and Rick had been best friends since they were kids. They were both extremely close, but also loved to banter and tease each other relentlessly. So coming back to the present. Jason decided to whisper to Rick. 

Jason looked at Rick and smirked. "Hey there, Einstein. What groundbreaking discovery have you made now?"

Rick rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Jason. I'm just trying to get some work done here."

Jason leaned over Rick's shoulder and looked at the notebook filled with complex maths. "What's all this? Looks like a bunch of gibberish to me."

Rick sighed and said teasingly. "It's a complex algorithm I'm working on. I doubt you'd understand it."

Jason laughed. "Try me."

Rick shook his head. "No thanks. I don't have time to dumb it down for you."

Jason shrugged. "Suit yourself, Professor. I'll just go back to my simple life of eating pizza and watching TV."

Rick grinned. "Yeah, that's because your brain can't handle anything more complex than that."

Jason playfully punched Rick's arm. "Hey, at least I know how to have fun. You're always buried in your books and equations."

Rick chuckled. "True, but someone's gotta be the brains in this friendship, right?"

Jason smiled. "Yeah, and someone's gotta make sure you don't forget how to have a little fun once in a while."

Rick grinned. "I guess you have a point there. Thanks for keeping me grounded, Jason."

Jason smiled. "Anytime, buddy. That's what friends are for."

As the familiar bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. Jason wasted no time gently grabbing Rick's hand running to ms.Liz and giving their goodbyes. The sky was painted in a hue of colours, ranging from different oranges to different pinks. Not allowing Rick the time to realise where they were going Jason started subtly pushing Rick to start one of his famous rambles. Once Rick was all excited and bounding about like a cute puppy it was impossible to get him to focus on anything else. Soon the boys found themselves in front of Jason's home. Wasting no time Jason pushed Rick inside before Rick could refuse to stay the night. A black haired woman greeted them, Jason's mother.

That night Rick laughed at Jason's antics at dinner and his dads stories of his childhood, of his best friend's mother ruffling his hair and the feeling of warmth growing within him. That night Rick fell asleep on a familiar bed that although was not his own, was infinitely warmer with his best friend beside him lightly snoring.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Realisation

Age 15

It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that Rick had HYPER-hyperfixtations. He loved everything and anything, the latest technological discoveries, the newest video games, nintendo, giraffes, how different foods affect different animals, the intricate workings of the brain and instincts of any and all animals. With Jason sick in bed for the past few days and not likely to be in school tomorrow, Rick hadn’t been able to keep up with the latest news in the world. That didn’t stop him from getting into one of his hyperfixtations, no. It all started one day while taking out the trash, after his father demanded it.  Rick noticed that many of the items he was throwing away contained chemicals, such as BPA in plastic water bottles. It got him thinking: could he use everyday trash items to measure the volumes of chemicals in the brain at any given time? He just got off a 40 hour deep web dive learning everything about the brain.

After a day or two of tinkering and experimenting, observing human behaviour and recording as much information as he could think of. Rick had created a device he called "BrianScanner." yea Rick liked his inventions to have straightforward names. Although he had saved many files in Jason's computer all lazily named, much to his friends amusement on what “kidneys and livers mating” and “boogers and aids” means.

Back to the “BrianScanner.” It was a small plastic container attached to a circuit board, made entirely from recycled materials. It looked similarly to a bulky gun but attached to a computer that looked like it could fall apart at any moment. Rick had programmed the circuit board, using his school's computers, to use a scientific technique called spectrophotometry to measure the chemicals in a sample of brain fluid, as a base to compare the others with. To test his invention, Rick recruited, and when he means recruited he means taking the sample without them knowing. Jason and others from his school who were “willing” to provide samples of their brain fluid. 

As he added more samples to the BrainScanner device, the LED light emitted a specific wavelength of light that passed through the person and interacted with any and all chemicals present. Once a person was scanned it transferred the data to his broken down computer to be processed.

It took several days to get all the data but here Rick was, in a familiar hunch typing away on a keyboard held together by duct tape and superglue. Rick waited with bated breath as the device emitted a beep, signalling that it had finished its analysis. Just as he was about to open the files he heard stomping making its way up the stairs. Every nerve in Rick's body turned on to high alert, his senses were dialled to a 100. Waiting with bated breath, and wide eyes as he watched the door. Slowly Rick's hand went to the computers off switch not clicking it but just hovering. The moment Rick heard the footsteps stop in front of his door and the door knob start to turn, he moved. As quickly and quietly, turning off the computer, grabbing his backpack and jumping out his window all in one fluid motion. Landing on his feet on the roof Rick quickly ran to the closest tree and slid down it. 

Rick had learned that nothing will change in his fucked up family, it’ll always be as dysfunctionals as ever. He learned how to avoid his parents and keep to himself waiting to turn 18 to finally leave. He learned how to no longer take the hits his father gave him instead dodging and running away, will people call him a coward? Maybe but it's better than his hands being injured and not being able to work on any of his inventions. Making it all the way down the street before he started to slow down, anxiety and uneasiness were flooding his veins, Rick decided he might as well go to school.  

As the day went on, Rick was dozing off at the back of the class, none of the teachers ever minded when Rick decided to work on his own things in class. As long as Rick was passing and doing the work they turned a blind eye. Much to the displeasure of his other classmates. Although on this Friday afternoon, 4:30pm, it seems as though the usual history teacher, Mr.Simons, was absent and thus a substitute was brought in. Rick didn’t bother to remember the name of the man as he would be gone next week anyways. Not being able to look at his results this morning and the lack of sleep had placed Rick in an especially foul mood. Thus when this new substitute with his greying hair and brown eyes hidden behind a pair of spectacles, called Rick out for sleeping at the back and demanded he answer a question. Rick didn’t have the patience to pretend to be or reply politely. 

“Good morning, Rick. You were dozing off in class again. Do you find this material boring?” The substitute asked with an eyebrow raised and an unimpressed look on his face.

Rick, still slightly dazed, mumbled “Oh no, I'm wide awake, just bored out of my mind.”

A heavy sigh filled the classroom, “Rick, I know you're a bright student, but you need to pay attention and put in effort in class if you want to succeed.”

“Why should I put in effort when I already know everything you're teaching? You're just regurgitating information from the textbook. Asking questions and making us reply like a bunch of trained robots, but even robots have more personality than this class.” Does Rick feel bad for telling his honest feelings, no. could he have worded it better maybe. But what's done is done no use dwelling on it now. Besides Rick’s tired, hurting, and missing Jason.

The teacher’s anger slowly rising, the class watched in silence moving their heads back and forth between the two, he gritted his teeth and explained “That's disrespectful, Rick. You need to show respect to your teachers. Rick, just because you're smart doesn't mean you know everything. There's always something new to learn.”

“I agree. But perhaps we could focus on making this class more interesting rather than droning on. Also, respect is earned, not demanded. And frankly, I don't see any reason to respect teachers who can't even keep up with a student who's half asleep.” Rick yawned

“Rick I understand your frustrations but if you keep this up, we'll have to call your parents. Do you understand?”

“Oh no, not my parents. They would be devastated. Please, anything but that.” Rick said sarcastically, knowing full well they wouldn’t care and only got annoyed they got a call about him.

Raising his voice a little, the teacher repeated, “Do you understand Rick?”

“Yes” dejectedly, Rick replied.

“yes , Sir ”

“No need to call me sir, mister.” Rick said cheekily with a grin on his face and amusement in his eyes. 

Rick soon found himself sitting outside the staff office in a ruined blue sponge seated chair, it seems as though the principle was out and so he was redirected to his homeroom teacher, Ms. Liz. Sighing, Rick stretched his legs in front of him and laid back lazily with his hands in his pockets. Closing his eyes and laying his head to the cream coloured wall behind him. It didn’t take long for the wooden door beside him to creak open and the rather tall teacher to walk out. She crouched in front of Rick patiently waiting for Rick to open his eyes and look at her. 

Slowly but surely Rick opened his eyes and looked at Ms. Liz. tired Hazel and understanding blue eyes stared at each other, both looking for something in the other. As time passed all around them, Ms. Liz eventually stood up and indicated with a nod of her head for Rick to follow her into her office. Stumbling on to his feet, Rick trudged his way into her office, stopping at the door after shutting it. 

“Take a seat Rick,” Ms. Liz started the conversation. 

Taking a seat on the comfortable red chair, Rick looked at all the familiar nick nacks on the desk before him. This was far from the first time he’s been in this office. Be it due to his injuries, or because of his mouth, more so the later these days. 

A younger Rick is seen trying to keep up with the ginger haired teacher, as she guides Rick through various hallways and turns to her office. Blue hair falling over his face in a familiar mess, and a blue and black bruise staining his cheek. Soon the pair found themselves standing before a simple wooden door. Pushing it open, Miss Liz walked inside holding the door open for Rick to follow through. And shutting it behind him before moving to the desk to take out a first aid kit. 

As Rick walks into his teacher's office, He is struck by the cosy and inviting atmosphere. The room is filled with an array of knick-knacks, each one carefully placed to create a warm and lived-in feel. Rick can see why his teacher spends so much time here, a certain longing hits Rick as he looks around. The walls are painted in a soft cream colour, which complements the warm wooden shelves and cabinets. The shelves are lined with books, each one with its own unique story and meaning. Rick couldn’t help but wonder which ones his teacher has read and which ones are waiting to be discovered.

On one shelf, he spots an assortment of small figurines, ranging from ceramic cats and dogs to tiny glass elephants and birds. They're so intricately crafted, it's hard to believe they're not real. Rick was tempted to reach out and touch them, but the fear of knocking anything over and getting yelled at and kicked out made him hesitate and decide not to.

On another shelf, Rick sees an array of colourful glass paperweights and vases, each one catching the sunrise light and adding a pop of colour to the room. The flowers in the vases were bright and cheerful, Rick recalled seeing the lilies in a book before. As Rick approaches the desk, he notices the various objects cluttering its surface. There are pens and pencils scattered about, along with a vintage clock and a small brass globe. He was fascinated by the jar filled with seashells, wondering where they came from and what adventures his teacher has had.

The room is a delightful mishmash of objects, each one with its own story and meaning. It's clear that his teacher has put a lot of thought and care into curating this space. Rick couldn’t help but feel at ease in this charming and welcoming office, surrounded by so many interesting and beautiful things. It didn’t take long for Rick to hop onto one of the many cosy looking chairs and patiently wait for his teacher. Setting down a med kit next to him on the desk the ginger haired teacher crouched down to Rick's eye level and looked at the too thin boy.

Gently she reached out a hand towards Rick ignoring the slight flinch that Rick exerted. A smooth hand touched his face gently prodding at the bruise on his face, only stopping when Rick winched when she touched a sore spot. Rick's eyes followed as he watched his teacher open the med kit and brought out a cloth and disinfectant. She then gently applied them to his cheek, Rick looked into her sad eyes, staying as still as possible , not knowing why she hadn’t said anything. Soon when he was patched up with a bandaid covering half his cheek, Ms. Liz started to talk.

“Rick, what happened this time?” she asked gently, almost afraid the child would run away.

“I-I fell,” Rick looked away as his finger twitched.

Sighing and sensing that she wouldn’t get anything out of Rick she replied, “Rick have some cookies,” she handed his a chocolate chip cookie, “ Just remember you can always com to me if you need anything,”

“Have a cookie Rick,” Ms. Liz said after Rick hadn’t replied, As Rick reached out to grab a cookie and started to munch on it she took a closer look at rick. Eye bags under his eyes and a slight bruise forming at his collar barely poking out of his shirt “Hey, has home been getting worse? You seem to be acting out a lot lately.”

“What are you talking about? Everything's fine. Classes are just boring me to death,” Rick replied softly, his excuse didn’t even sound believable to him, he winced.

“I understand that class can be boring sometimes, but that's not what I'm getting at. I've noticed that you've been making a lot of sarcastic comments and pushing back against authority. Is everything okay at home? Are you safe?” Elizabeth had asked and prodded about Rick's home life multiple times over the years, she wasn’t blind she knew that something was very wrong but she couldn’t do anything when she was always shut down by the school board. That didn’t stop her from wanting to help Rick. 

“I don't know what you're talking about. My home life is none of your business. And if you're not going to say anything interesting, then I'm just going to tune you out.” Shifting around in the seat Rick still refused to look at his teacher.

“I'm sorry that you feel that way, but I'm here to help you. If there's something going on at home that's causing you to act out, then I want to be there to support you. Please know that you can always talk to me if you need to.” She hoped that her feelings reached Rick.

With a slight pause, “Fine, whatever. But don't expect me to start spilling my guts to you just because you're worried, I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“That's okay. It's important to remember that you don't have to go through anything alone. I'm here to support you, no matter what. How about you take a nap on the couch till classes end, don’t worry I'll cover for you,” She smiled towards Rick and gave him encouraging nods and soft words for him to lay down. 

It didn’t take long for Rick, all gangly limbs curled onto the couch and soft snores escaping him, to fall asleep. Elizabeth stared at the too tiny child and watched as soft breaths left his lips. An insidious feeling that crept up onto her spine slowly. At first, it's just a niggling sense of unease, like a knot in her stomach that won't go away. But as time goes on, and as she continues grading papers, it grows and festers, until it feels like a weight on her chest that she couldn't shake off. Her mind races with all the possible scenarios and outcomes of Ricks home life. She imagines the worst-case scenarios she sees Rick hurt crying alone in his room. She looked at the time and realised that it was time for Rick to leave and head home. Determination showed in her eyes as an idea struck her. 

 Rick awoke in warmth and a soft feeling of peace in his chest, with gentle hands nudging him awake, annoyed Rick mumbled out a sleepy, 5 more minutes. A soft laugh was heard as Elizabeth gently shook Rick again stating that it was time to go. That got Rick awake, he didn’t want to leave and go home. Dejectedly he sat up and rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and looked back at his teacher. She held a soft smile and with even softer hands ruffled his blue hair and walked away. The warmth of her hand didn’t leave even as he was walking down the street towards Jason's house, hand clutching at his backpack straps.

As time went on Rick feels a deep and heavy feeling in his chest, like he's in a constant state of anticipation, waiting for the other shoe to drop and Ms. Liz to stop her care and soft touches and words. He craved more of her smiles and hugs and hair ruffles. His body feels tense and tight, as if he's constantly bracing himself for bad news. Rick’s heart beats faster than usual, and his breathing becomes shallow and rapid. His palms start to sweat, and he feels on edge, ready to jump at any sudden movement or noise, unable to concentrate on anything else, the world starts to blur and get muffled. It was hard to focus on walking and his surroundings. He’s been feeling irritable or short-tempered, snapping at those around him all day, even though they haven't done anything wrong. Only calming when he was in Ms. Liz’s office. 

The feeling consumed Rick, taking over your thoughts and emotions. He felt helpless and powerless, like there's nothing he could do to alleviate the worry. It was becoming exhausting, draining and leaving him feeling depleted. Not even noticing that he had arrived, walked to the back of the house and climbed the ladder to Jason’s window, Rick only snapped out of his muffled state when he heard his name being called. Looking up Rick saw Jason’s worried face, concern etched into every little detail of his face. Climbing through the window before saying anything Rick went right over to Jason and gave him a hug. 

“I missed you too buddy.” Jason said gently patting his head, soothing all of Rick’s worries and grounding him.

Jason never questioned or pushed Rick on his strange behaviour instead, Jason dragged Rick and distracted him with his nintendo entertainment system. Although it took a few hours to finally bring Rick back to the present, laughing and giggling as he beat Jason in the game for the 4th time in a row. It was worth it for Jason to see his friend back to his carefree and excited self. Soon Jason’s mother entered the room with a box of pizza and a smile on her face. Flustered Rick started to apologise for not informing her of his presence earlier, it was all brushed off with a good natured laugh and a pat on his shoulder.

Walking home, Rick felt content and at peace. Rick looks up, he loves the night sky, consistent in its pattern and predictable in its breathtaking spectacle of lights, as it is a canvas filled with an endless array of twinkling stars and celestial bodies that light up the darkness, filling the endless void with burning rocks that twinkle and sparkle. As the sun sets and darkness ensues, the sky slowly transforms into a natural display of beauty that is both calming and mystifying.

As Rick gazes upward, still mystified as he watches, the first thing that catches his eye is the moon. Its silver glow illuminates the darkness, casting shadows on the earth below. Beyond the moon, millions of stars can be seen scattered across the sky, forming patterns and constellations that never fails to leave him in awe. The stars range in size and brightness, with some shining bright enough to cast a faint glow on the earth below, while others twinkling softly in the background. Rick noted that he could see Vega, the brightest star in Lyra approximately 25 light years away. During one of Rick's deep web searches he learned, the Lyra constellation represents the lyre of Orpheus; they played a song so sad that even the heavens and their gods wept. Not that Rick believes in heaven and hell, or god for that matter, though he thought the stories of stars were interesting. 

The darkness of the sky also allows the planets to be seen. Each planet has its unique qualities, making them stand out in the night sky. Venus, the brightest of all the planets, appears like a shining star that is hard to miss. Mars, with its distinct reddish hue, adds a unique colour to the sky. Jupiter and Saturn, the largest planets in the solar system, can also be seen as bright points surrounded by their respective moons. The peaceful tranquillity and the vastness of the universe elicit a sense of wonder and introspection that gives Rick a rush and want to explore and discover. It reminds Rick of how fragile and small he is in this grand cosmos. 

Soon the peace he felt was crushed as he walked towards his front door and heard some sort of argument happening. Strangely it was a much tamer fight it seems. Suddenly Rick's hand paused at the door knob, listening intently as he realised that there were three voices inside the house. Just as Rick was about to go inside through the back, the door opened and out walked Ms. Liz. Anger and frustration clouded her face before she looked down and saw Rick. Her face immediately softened and saddened. She ruffled his hair and gave an unexplainable look to Rick, her ginger hair falling over her shoulder. Anxiety curled within Rick as he looked past her and saw his parents, annoyance and anger lacing their faces. Ms. Liz, sensing Rick's growing anxiety, brings his attention back onto her. 

“Rick, sweetie, do you want to stay with me tonight? Why don’t you get your things and wait for me out here, I’ll be right back” with the most calming and soothing voice, like she was talking to a small child; in most ways he was. Ms. Liz said, giving a reassuring nod when Rick looked at her with slight hope and excitement.

Rick gave a weak nod as Elizabeth left, started her car and pulled out of the driveway. As he was turning away to do as she asked, he experienced an intense feeling of dread come over him, a cold shiver went up his spine. His arms tingled while his legs weakened and seemed to grow numb. The sensation of nausea crawling up his throat and dread deep within him were unmistakable signs something was wrong. An instinctive physiological response had been triggered by a perceived threat, raw primal instinct taking over, and he knew he had to act fast. He turned, but it was too late. Elizabeth had already disappeared down the road. Rick was left with his father, mother having left to see her friends sometime when he wasn’t paying attention. 

Rick remembers reading that when the brain perceives a potential threat, it activates the sympathetic nervous system, which triggers the release of hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. These hormones cause a range of physical changes, including an increase in heart rate, breathing rate, and blood pressure. Blood is redirected to the muscles and away from other areas of the body, like the digestive and reproductive systems, in preparation for either fighting or fleeing.

Rick also realises that his body's response to this particular threat was a "freeze" response. When the threat is perceived as too overwhelming, and the body shuts down in an attempt to protect itself. For example, if someone is faced with a predator, they may freeze in an attempt to make themselves less noticeable and avoid being attacked. A primal and raw instinct meant to protect themselves. Although this time Rick wishes that he could move, do anything just to get away. Rick watches, unable to move as his father walks towards him. A building pressure in his throat and behind his eyes, Rick felt like crying. But that would only make things work, at that moment Rick hated Elizabeth, he was hopeful at her words before but hated her for leaving even if she promised to be back.  

“YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!” His father was furious. Rick swore that his fathers brown eyes were red in that moment, instinctively Rick hunched and shut his eyes. “Y—You think you're SO SMART don’t you. Ratting us out to your teachers. I’LL TEACH YOU TO KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT,”

His father was shouting, it was rather muffled, Rick noted. But he also heard the faint sound of someone crying. He wondered who it was; then Rick realised that the crying was coming from him. Oh. Oddly Rick feels numb, everything felt like an out of body experience. Everything was muted and dull, it didn't feel real. It hurts. Everything feels like it's far away. Please stop, please please. Despite the desperation to stop whatever is happening and acknowledge what is real, Rick found a kernel of thought in his mind: maybe this could be something to research and gain further understanding on. Even though his thoughts centred on sorrow, there was a sense of clarity as he noted and mumbled out - I'm sorry for existing and for wanting to live.

The young boy lay curled up on the now stained wooden floor, a dark liquid soaking into them, he was surrounded by broken glass and furniture. His body was covered in cuts and bruises, and his once blue hair was matted with dried blood. His backpack lay forgotten by the door, its contents spilled haphazardly. With dull brown eyes, he stared unresponsively at the wall opposite him. Distantly Rick wondered where Elizabeth was, why wasn’t she here yet? Where was she? Was she just lying just like his father said? Distantly Rick realised that he shouldn’t fall asleep, but he was just so tired.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Realisation Part 2

 Age 15

The First thing that Rick realised was the cold hard floor that he was laying on. Rick let out a groan as the numbness started to fade and his senses came back to him. He was jolted awake by a sharp, stabbing pain in his stomach. He groaned and clutched at his abdomen, trying to shake off the pain and return to his peaceful slumber. But it was no use. The pain persisted, a relentless ache that seemed to spread throughout his entire body. Tears were starting to well up in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. Rick groaned and tried to sit up, but he found himself struggling to move, his limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. Pain was overtaking his senses. 

Panic rising in his chest, the boy fought to push himself up, using every ounce of strength he could muster. Rick was hyperventilating at this point, unable to get enough air into his body. Struggling to think of anything and confusion were prominent. He finally managed to sit up, his breathing ragged and uneven as he clutched at his stomach. Belatedly thinking that his ribs might be broken. Rick felt cold, his skin clammy and throat dry as he started the heave, his body having nothing to puke up.  

The pain only intensified, a searing sensation that seemed to shoot through his limbs like a bolt of lightning. He let out a muffled cry of agony, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. The boy stumbled to his feet, using the wall as a clutch, his legs wobbly and weak as he made his way towards the door. Knowing it wasn’t safe where he was, suddenly it hit him, everything from last night coming back to him. The same time the pain intensified even further, threatening to overwhelm him completely. He collapsed onto the floor, writhing in agony as he cried out for anyone.

In that moment, the boy felt utterly alone and helpless, unsure of how to make it stop, he was terrified his father would come back. All he could do was cry, feeling useless and pathetic. His heart is racing so fast that it feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. His palms are sweaty, and he can't catch his breath. He feels like he's suffocating, like there's a weight on his chest that he can't shake off. His mind is racing, and he can't focus on anything except the fear that's consuming him. He feels like he's losing control, like he's going crazy. Everything around him seems to be moving in slow motion, and he can't escape this overwhelming sense of dread. He tries to take deep breaths, but they just make him feel more lightheaded and disoriented. It's like he's trapped in his own body, and there's no way out. He just wants it to stop, to go away, but it feels like it's never going to end. He's terrified, and he doesn't know how much longer he can take this. 

Buzz . Buzz. Beep. Hey rick i went to school today you weren’t around, tried looking for ms. Liz seems she's absent too. I’m worried about you, call me back. 

Jason. Jason called. Rick heard it. He didn't know where it came from but he heard it. Jason’s voice grounded him. Slowly, Rick got his breath under control, slowly he focused on the feeling of wood under his palms and the sound of crickets outside. Looking up Rick spots his phone, his duct taped mess of a phone, it was directly in front of the door laying there. As he tries to stand, his legs feel like they're made of rubber. They won't hold his weight, and he stumbles, nearly falling to the ground. Pain shoots through his body, Rick starts to feel the panic trying to consume him again. He reaches out to steady himself, gripping onto the nearby table for support. He tries again, pushing himself up with all his strength, ignoring the intense pain it causes. This time, he manages to stay upright, but his legs are shaking so badly that he can barely stand. It's like they have a mind of their own, uncontrollable and unsteady. 

His head feels light, and he's dizzy, disoriented. Rick realises that he was breathing heavily. He tries to take a step forward, but his feet seem to be glued to the ground. He's so weak that he can barely move, his whole body struggling to remain upright. He feels like he's going to collapse at any moment, like he's not strong enough to support himself. He knows he needs to sit down, to rest, but he's not sure he'll even make it that far. It's a struggle just to stay standing. Drawing on the need to see Jason, Rick walks. He walks through the pain in his ribs. The pounding headache. The wobbly and unstable legs. The confusion that threatened to consume him. Rick walks. He leaves the house only just remembering to grab his phone. Stumbling around, Rick, exhausted, starts to lean against a wall of one of his neighbours' houses. Every step is a challenge. 

He tries to lift one foot off the ground, and continue but it feels like it's stuck in mud. He can't seem to get any traction, like his shoes are slipping on a wet surface. He leans to one side, overcompensating, and nearly loses his balance. His legs feel heavy, like he's carrying weights on each ankle. He tries to will them to move, to take another step forward, but they won't budge. It's like he's moving through water, slow and sluggish, with no sense of momentum. His muscles ache, burning with every effort, but he can't seem to get anywhere. He's trapped, rooted to the ground, unable to make any progress. He wants to scream in frustration, but he doesn't have the energy. Every inch is a struggle, every movement a battle against his own body. He's fighting just to take one more step, to keep moving forward, but it feels like an impossible task. 

After gruelling hours Rick had reached the back of his best friend's house and looked up the ladder that led to his friend's room. Feeling a knot form in his stomach, Rick braced as he started his climb. All Rick knew in his muddled mind was that Jason was safe and thus he had to be near Jason. He reaches for the first rung, fingers trembling slightly as they grasp the metal bar. He takes a deep breath and pulls himself up, trying to ignore the wobble in his legs and the pain in his shoulder. The rungs are narrow, and his feet feel unsteady as he tries to find purchase. He moves slowly, methodically, trying to keep his balance as he climbs higher and higher. Strangely no longer feeling the pain in his ribs as much. His arms ache with the effort, and sweat beads on his forehead. He's not sure if it's from the physical exertion or the fear that's gripping him. Each rung feels like a victory, but he can't help but feel like he's one misstep away from disaster. 

He tries to focus on his breathing, inhaling deeply as he reaches for the next rung. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his palms are slick with sweat. He's only halfway up, and it feels like an eternity since he started. He glances down, and the ground seems impossibly far away. He swallows hard and forces himself to keep going. One foot in front of the other, hand over hand, he climbs, determined to reach the top. It's a struggle, but he refuses to give up. Finally, he reaches the end, his hands gripping the top rung tightly. He takes a moment to catch his breath, feeling the rush of relief and accomplishment wash over him. He made it. 

Pushing the window open he belatedly hears Jason calling out his name, the next thing he knew he was surrounded by warmth, he was being hugged. Rick looked up and saw Jason, a panicked look on his face and he looked to his door calling out for someone. Rick was safe. Finally safe. Jason looked towards Rick, a worried and panicked look in his eyes, as he passed out and finally let the darkness and fatigue claim him.

Warmth, the first thing Rick realised as he started to stir, turning over. As soon as the morning light hit his face, Rick winced and groaned. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. Every muscle in his body ached and screamed in protest as he  opened his eyes and struggled to get them to adjust to the light. Rick tried to sit up in bed. "What the hell?" he thought, as he started to recognise the room he is in. The familiar shelves filled with figurines and comic books, the light blue walls and the carpeted red floor. He was in Jasons room.

Rick's mind raced as he struggled to remember what had happened the day before. The memories slowly came flooding back, and Rick's heart sank as he recalled the confrontation with his father. His palms started to sweat, and he felt like he couldn't catch his breath, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow. Rick tried to take deep breaths to calm himself down, but it only made things worse. His chest felt tight, like a weight was crushing down on it, and he could feel the panic rising inside him.

Suddenly, Rick heard a voice in his head, a voice that sounded like his father’s. 'You worthless piece of shit.' The words echoed through his mind, making him feel small and helpless.

As Rick struggled to regain control, he brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes, trying to ground himself and slow down his breathing. It took several moments, but he finally managed to get his breathing under control, though the effort left him feeling drained and exhausted. As he tried to get out of bed, Rick realised that his muscles were incredibly sore, and even the smallest movement caused pain to shoot through his body. His legs felt weak and unsteady, and he stumbled as he tried to stand up.

Looking down at his chest, he saw that he was wrapped tightly in bandages. The pain in his chest spiked, and Rick realised that his injuries must have been serious.  The realisation only added to his growing sense of panic and confusion, leaving him feeling lost and vulnerable. Rick stumbled towards the door, his movements unsteady and slow. As he reached for the doorknob, he belatedly noticed the small shelf nearby. On it, he saw a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water.

With a shaky hand, Rick grabbed the bottle of pills and quickly unscrewed the cap. He shook out a couple of tablets and swallowed them, hoping that they would help ease the pain in his chest and limbs. Next, he picked up the glass of water and downed it in one gulp, feeling the cool liquid wash over his parched throat. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and steady his trembling limbs.

After a few moments, Rick opened his eyes and looked around the room. He remembered how he had ended up injured, it was all a blur and confusing, but he recalled brief flashes, shaking his head Rick tried to stop thinking about it. He didn’t remember being wrapped in bandages, and the thought filled him with a sense of dread. Taking a deep breath, Rick decided to focus on the present and take things one step at a time. He knew he needed to find Jason.

With unsteady feet, Rick made his way outside the room, using the wall as a crutch to stabilise himself. He felt weak and vulnerable, but he knew he had to keep moving. As he slowly made his way towards the stairs, he heard hushed voices coming from downstairs. His heart racing, Rick tried to maintain a straight posture and a composed expression, hoping to avoid any questions about his condition. He ignored the pain that came with each step, forcing himself to keep moving forward.

As he descended the stairs, he saw a group of people gathered in the living room. Jason and his parents. They looked up as he entered, their expressions turning to concern as they saw his bandaged chest and limping gait.

"Rick, are you okay?" Jason asked, rushing to his side.

"I'm fine," Rick said, trying to sound convincing, only for it to sound forced. "Just a little sore from yesterday."

Jason’s parents exchanged worried and concerned glances. As Jason himself led Rick to one of the couches in the living room. Rick let out a sigh of relief as he collapsed onto the couch, grateful for their concern but also anxious to avoid any further questions. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing, hoping to calm himself down and find some peace amidst the chaos of his mind. Rick was brought back to the present by a gentle hand on his shoulder, that made him flinch slightly. Slowly Rick opened his eyes and was met with a pair of concerned hazel eyes that belonged to Ms. Anderson. 

“Rick sweetie, what happened?” gently like she was afraid Rick would run. 

Rick's heart pounded in his chest as he sat before his friend's mother, struggling to find the words to explain his father's outburst. His anxiety grew with each passing moment, and his palms became slick with sweat. When he caught Jason's encouraging nod, Rick took a deep breath and began to speak, his stutter growing more pronounced as he struggled to get the words out.

"Father just got mad, a lil, i-i-its nothing t-to…" Rick trailed off, his voice becoming softer and softer until he was barely audible. His face flushed red with embarrassment and shame, and he couldn't bring himself to look anyone in the eye.

His mind raced with thoughts of rejection and dismissal, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow responsible for his father's anger. Rick had always been plagued by overthinking, and in moments like this, it felt like his thoughts were spiralling out of control. Suddenly, a gentle hand on his head brought him back to reality. Looking up Rick saw Mr. Anderson, It was Jason's father, his kind eyes looking down at him with concern. "It's okay, Rick," he said softly, "We're here for you. You don't have to be ashamed or embarrassed. We understand."

The weight of his words lifted some of the burden from Rick's shoulders, and he felt a sense of relief wash over him. He took a deep breath, his stutter easing as he spoke more confidently. "Thank you," he said, his voice steady, "I appreciate it." For the first time in a long while, Rick felt like he wasn't alone in his struggles. He knew that there would be more questions and prodding, but with the support of his friend and his family, he felt like he could face anything that came his way. He felt braver. It was soon overshadowed with a numbing question. “She said she would come back.” Confusion and hurt laced his voice as he spoke. The three in the room were confused so Rick elaborated, “Ms. Liz, she asked me to wait and she would be back to pick me up, b-b-but she never came.”

“Maybe something happened? She wouldn't lie to you,” Rick couldn’t pinpoint who’s voice said it. But it soothed some of his uneasiness.  

Rick felt a wave of gratitude wash over him as he watched the Andersons fuss over him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at the distraction they provided. He tried his best to push away his worries about Ms. Liz and the events of the previous day, focusing instead on the present moment.

As the day wore on, Rick found himself growing more and more comfortable around the Andersons. They were warm, kind, and welcoming, and Rick couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging around them. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he had a family that cared about him. As the evening approached, Rick felt a sense of peace settle over him. He was exhausted from the events of the day, and as he lay his head on Jason’s shoulder, he felt his eyes grow heavy with sleep.Movie still playing in the background. Before he knew it, he was drifting off into a deep, restful slumber, safe and secure in the knowledge that he was surrounded by people who loved him.

Elizabeth's POV:

It was a simple home visit to talk about Rick’s performance in school. Ignoring the real reason she was here. She finally decided to take action against Rick's home life, the obvious abuse was there. All she needed to do was get a little more evidence. Walking up to the two story, pale cream house, Elizabeth knocked on the door. After a pause she knocked again, unsure if the first time was too soft. Just as she was about to knock for a third time a woman with emerald green eyes and blond hair opened the door. She had a scowl on her face and looked as though she was about to leave.  

“I’m from Richard’s school, his homeroom teacher, Can I come in?” Elizabeth questioned, an eyebrow raised. 

A heavy sigh left the other woman's lips as she opened the door wider to let her in. Elizabeth entered the house, taking in her surroundings. The living room was cluttered with various items, and the air had a stale smell to it, alcohol? She couldn't help but notice the bruises on the woman's arms. Elizabeth couldn't shake the feeling that something worse was happening in this household, and she made a mental note to keep her guard up.

As they walked towards the kitchen, Elizabeth tried to make small talk, but the woman seemed disinterested in conversation still . When they reached the kitchen, Elizabeth noticed a man sitting at the table, his eyes fixed on the newspaper in front of him. The man didn't acknowledge Elizabeth's presence, and she got the feeling that she was not welcome here.

"Is Richard around?" Elizabeth asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"no," the woman replied curtly. 

"Whatever you need just say it so we can get on with our day" The man suddenly cut in, Voice gruff and irritated. He reeked of alcohol, but looked composed.

Elizabeth began to talk about Rick's amazing grades and performance in class, praising him and highlighting his strengths. However, the parents seemed bored and uninterested, and they told Elizabeth she could leave.

Not wanting to leave without raising her concerns, Elizabeth hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "There is one more thing," she said, her heart racing. "I'm concerned about Rick." Despite her best efforts to engage the parents, they remained disinterested and unresponsive. Unlike normal parents would act if someone said they were concerned for their child.  

Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. “I’ve noticed some concerning behaviour from him in class. He seems to be withdrawn and anxious lately. I just wanted to make sure everything is okay at home.”

The man's eyes narrowed and his wife shifted uncomfortably in her seat trying to act nonchalant. “What are you suggesting?” he asked sharply, anger flaring in his eyes.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Elizabeth replied calmly. “I just want to make sure that Rick is safe and well-cared for.”

The man's face twisted into a scowl. “Of course he’s safe! We take care of our son just fine.”

Elizabeth could feel the tension in the room. She knew that pushing too hard could make things worse for Rick, but she also couldn't just walk away. “I understand that, but as a teacher, it’s my job to look out for my students. If there’s anything that I can do to help Rick, please let me know.”

The man and woman exchanged a look, and then the man spoke. “We appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to worry about. Rick is just going through a rough patch. We’ll take care of it.”

Elizabeth's anger surged, and she found herself speaking without thinking, "Rick has been coming to school with bruises and scratches, which suggests that his home life may be unstable. If you refuse to take action, I will have no choice but to contact the authorities and remove him from your care."

Elizabeth could feel the tension in the air rising as the parents' voices grew louder and more defensive. Their reaction was not unexpected, but it still made her heart race with fear and frustration.

“HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE SUCH A THING, THE LITTLE BRATS ALWAYS BEEN A DRAMA QUEEN, IT WAS PROBABLY BULLIES. The little shit is tiny and not unlikely to be picked on” his father shouted.

"I'm sorry if I've offended you, but as a teacher, it's my duty to ensure the safety and well-being of my students," Elizabeth replied, trying to keep her tone calm and professional. "If you have nothing to hide, then there's no need to be defensive."

But her words fell on deaf ears as the parents continued to shout and insult her, making it clear that they weren't going to cooperate. With a heavy heart, Elizabeth knew that she had to leave before things got out of hand. She made her way to the door and turned to face them one last time.

“Please leave before we call the authorities to get you arrested for trespassing.” the mother replied.

"I hope you'll reconsider and seek help if needed. Rick deserves a safe and loving home, and so I’ll be taking him off your hands for tonight." she said before walking out, leaving the angry couple behind.

Despite the growing hostility in the room, Elizabeth stood her ground and kept her composure. She knew that Rick's safety was at stake, and she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her. Even as the father clenched his fists and the mother's face grew red with anger, Elizabeth remained calm and collected. She reiterated that Rick's safety was her top priority, and that she would do everything in her power to ensure that he was safe and taken care of. Soon she turned around and stormed out the house as more shouts were heard behind her. 

Opening the door and giving one final look behind her she started to take a step forward, she looked down and saw Rick. Elizabeth's heart ached as she saw Rick's worried expression. She knelt down to his level and placed a gentle hand on his head ruffling his hair, giving him a reassuring look. She noticed Rick looking behind her and a terrified expression took over his face. She subtly brought his attention back to her. 

In the most calming and soothing voice she could muster she said, “Rick, sweetie, do you want to stay with me tonight? Why don’t you get your things and wait for me out here, I’ll be right back” 

Her heart lurched when Rick gave her a look that held slight hope and excitement. She decided to give him a reassuring nod, Rick looked so lost in that moment. Rick's tense shoulders slowly relaxed, and he gave her a small nod, his eyes still filled with fear. Elizabeth stood up and walked away, feeling a mix of emotions inside her. She was angry at the parents for their behaviour, but also hopeful that she could make a difference in Rick's life. She knew that she needed to act fast before it was too late. 

Hoping into the car and driving away, She needed to call someone. Quickly dialling a string of numbers into her phone and placing it on speaker, it started to ring out. She knew she was driving well above the speed limit but she couldn’t care. As the line connected, Elizabeth's heart raced with anticipation. She hoped that the person on the other end of the line would be able to help her with Rick's situation.

“Hello,” a gruff voice sounded on the other end of the line.

“Mike! I need your help getting the student I was talking about before out of his house.”

A long tired sigh was heard on the other end of the line, “Rick right? Look Liz i understand, I really do, but without the evidenc-,”

Frustrated She cut the man off, “I have it,” there was a slight pause, “A whole folder, filled with pictures and statements. I even got a voice recording of the parents' aggressiveness.”

The car sped down the road, the engine roaring with power as it accelerated faster and faster. The wind whipped through the open windows, tousling her ginger hair and sending papers and loose objects flying around the car. The scenery outside became a blur as the car raced past it, Elizabeth wasn’t worried as it was a rural area with trees all around and no cars in sight. Her hands were tight on the wheel, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, scanning for any obstacles or hazards.

As the car sped through curves and turns, the tires screeched and squealed, protesting against the force of the speed. The sound of the wind and engine grew louder and louder, drowning out any other noise apart from the voice on the phone.

“Liz….. That's… That can get him out, alright come to—------,” Mikes voice was cut out as Elizabeth was consumed in a blinding light that engulfed her from the side. She was jolted with fear as she recognized it was a truck and could do nothing but stare in shock as it collided with her car. 

As she slowly regained consciousness, a piercing and incessant ringing in her ears accompanied the overwhelming chaos around her. The heat was suffocating, and flames were mercilessly advancing towards the crumpled wreckage that held her trapped underneath. Despite faintly hearing someone calling out her name, she was paralyzed and unable to respond, helpless and alone. As her thoughts drifted to Rick, the sweet and intelligent child whose bright smile could light up a room, tears welled up in her eyes. She remembered his curious and innocent gaze that shone with the joy of discovery, but also the countless bruises and injuries he bore, a visible testament to the harsh realities of his life. 

As the flames grew closer, the weight of her own helplessness and the thought of what might become of Rick now that she was unable to protect him crushed her heart. She had always been his shield, his comfort, his safe haven in a world that had never been kind to him. She thought of all the times she had held him close, wiping away his tears and telling him that everything would be alright. She thought of all the moments they had shared, filled with laughter and joy, but also the moments that were too painful to remember, the moments that brought them both to tears.

As the realisation hit her that she might never see Rick again, a deep sense of sorrow washed over her. Her mind raced with thoughts of all the things she still wanted to teach him, all the things she wanted him to experience, all the things she wished she had done differently. Her heart ached at the thought of Rick growing up without her, hurt and alone, without the one constant person who had always been there for him, the one person who loved him unconditionally.

Tears streamed down Elizabeth's face as she silently prayed for Rick's safety and well-being. She knew that she might not make it out of this alive, but all she could think about was the child she loved so deeply. The child who deserved so much more than the harsh realities of life that he had been dealt. The child who needed her now more than ever.

As the flames drew ever closer and the world around her began to fade, Elizabeth's last thoughts were of Rick, and the stabbing sadness that she felt at the thought of leaving him behind. Sobbing out loud, and struggling to breath she uttered her final words “I’m sorry….r..ick,”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: New beginnings

 Age 18

Age 18, Rick, now liberated and spending time with Jason, relished in his newfound freedom. It had also been three years since Elizabeth's departure and subsequent disappearance. While discovering her whereabouts would have been a simple task for Rick, he deliberately chose not to pursue it. Uncovering the truth that she had voluntarily departed and was now leading her own life somewhere was not something Rick desired.

Rick reclined in the passenger seat of a vintage 1980's Ford Mustang, sinking deeper into the embrace of the supple leather. Engrossed in his latest invention, he let out a deep sigh while tightening screws with his trusty blue flat-head screwdriver. Jason skillfully manoeuvred the car, his relaxed posture conveying a sense of ease as his hands loosely held the steering wheel. Soft jazz melodies emanated from the radio, creating a soothing ambiance within the vehicle. The back seats were crammed with boxes, a testament to Rick's meticulous organisation. Over the past three years, Rick had diligently created a complex algorithm of his own, to accumulate a substantial sum of money for his university education. He had also secured a full scholarship to MIT. Not that his parents would take notice.

In the recent three years, Rick found himself spending little time at home, often seeking refuge with Jason and his family or retreating to the solitude of his own room. His parents rarely showed any interest in his whereabouts, so long as he remained out of their sight. A year ago, his mother had departed to pursue a different life, extending an invitation for Rick to join her. Awkwardly shuffling into his room one day, she had nonchalantly inquired, her lack of concern palpable, whether he desired to accompany her. Despite the initial shock of her sudden interest, Rick hesitated before declining. With only one more year until his departure for university, he preferred to remain where he was, especially since Jason was there for him. His mother simply nodded, informing him that his school expenses would be taken care of until he turned 18, after which he would be responsible for his own finances.

His father was still drinking, it looks like he was destined to overdose to death rather than natural causes. While his father wasn’t as aggressive as before, after that particular incident. Rick still opted to stay clear from his dad and avoid any contact with him whatsoever. Life carried out with a semblance of normalcy, well as normal as it could be. Although an overwhelming sense of isolation gripped Rick in the absence of Ms. Liz. He often found himself pondering her whereabouts, yearning for her presence. Curiously, there was no mention of her on the news, except for a man named Mike who had filed a missing persons report. It seemed that Ms. Liz, like Rick, lacked a proper family. Rick knew that if he wanted he could track her down. Rick never tried.

During those three years, Jason had been an unwavering pillar of support for Rick. Without his steadfast presence, Rick believed he would have succumbed to madness long ago. Perhaps in some alternate reality, the combination of isolation and abuse would have driven him to the point of no return. Yet in this reality, Jason remained a constant source of reassurance and encouragement. Even as Rick grappled with the complexities of human connection, Jason was always there with an unparalleled amount of understanding. Despite Rick's undeniable intelligence, he often found himself at a loss when confronted with his own emotions. Jason, however, never faltered in his understanding and acceptance of this aspect of Rick's character. Often helping him through them. 

Rick reciprocated Jason's unwavering support by being a constant presence in his life as well. He actively loves Jason's interests, offering a listening ear for his frustrations and random vents. In the past few years, Rick's horizons expanded significantly. His knowledge extended beyond the realms of science and academia, encompassing the latest developments in the world of gaming and film. They would excitedly discuss the release of groundbreaking games like "CyberRealm" and immersive movies such as "NeuroScape: A Virtual Odyssey." They would even have heated arguments on which characters and new Nintendo games were the best. Through their shared enthusiasm, Rick gained insights into how the world was rapidly progressing into the new millennium, embracing technological advancements and cultural shifts with each passing day. With the help of Jason’s family Rick gained his growth sprout although a little late. Rick became rather tall although not as tall as Jason, still sitting an inch below him. Jason loved to bring it up to rile Rick up sometimes.  

Arriving at MIT, the journey was swift, and Jason pulled up to the entrance. He dropped off Rick, who needed to collect his dorm keys and student card, while Jason proceeded to find parking. As Rick stepped out of the car, he couldn't help but be captivated by the sight before him. Looking up, Rick was greeted by a harmonious blend of traditional and contemporary architectural elements. Smooth stone steps led up to the entrance, flanked by grand rows of pillars that supported the roof above. Perched atop the majestic gateway, the iconic MIT symbol and name proudly displayed.

Taking in the surroundings, Rick admired how the entrance seamlessly merged classic design elements, such as ornate stone carvings and columns, with modern touches that hinted at the institution's progressive spirit. The meticulously maintained lawns and walkways surrounding the entrance buzzed with activity as students and visitors engaged in lively conversations, immersing themselves in the vibrant atmosphere. Eager minds hurried along the pathways, either heading to classes or animatedly discussing the latest scientific breakthroughs.

Stepping through the entrance's red doors, Rick found himself in a bustling hub. The lobby area harmoniously combines traditional and contemporary design, with polished wood finishes accentuated by sleek glass panels. Bulletin boards adorned the walls, displaying a multitude of notices and announcements, ranging from research opportunities to upcoming lectures and events. As Rick ventured further into the building, he couldn't help but fall deeper in love with the place. Despite his general aversion to school, he found himself appreciating MIT, even if only to a small degree.

Approaching the polished wooden counter, Rick couldn't shake off a tinge of nervousness. Standing there, he was met by an older woman, deeply engrossed in typing on her computer, seemingly oblivious to her immediate surroundings. As Rick attempted to capture her attention, he let out a slight cough. Instantly, the woman's head snapped up, her gaze piercing into his eyes. Rick mustered a nervous smile and proceeded to provide his assigned ID number, which had been mailed to him, while inquiring about his dormitory and student card.

With a bored tone the women directed him on where and how to get to the accommodations and handed him a key after verifying his identity. She also stated that his ID was already in the room. 

Glancing down at the gleaming silver key that was handed to him, Rick couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. Attached to the key was a small tag displaying his assigned room number confirming his place of residence. Expressing his gratitude to the woman behind the counter, Rick hurriedly exited the building, his excitement bubbling within him. With eager eyes, he scanned the surroundings, searching for the familiar figure of his best friend. There, leaning against his car, engrossed in typing a message on his flip phone, stood Jason. In his haste to reach him, Rick failed to notice a short blonde woman standing in his path as he jogged towards Jason.

Rick accidentally collided with the woman, causing both of them to lose their balance. Acting quickly, Rick managed to catch her just in time, preventing a fall. Extending a helping hand, he assisted her in regaining her stability. Awkward apologies and a sense of shared amusement filled the air as they laughed off the unexpected encounter. As Rick's hand remained on the woman's shoulder, they momentarily locked eyes. He couldn't help but notice her blond hair and brown eyes, which complemented her attire—a light blue button-down shirt and a pair of dark, baggy jeans. Suddenly aware of his lingering gaze, Rick hastily averted his eyes and withdrew his hand, nervously rubbing the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture.

“Sorry, uhhh are you okay?” Rick replied awkwardly, putting his hands down and holding himself stiffly. 

“Uh yea, yea, I’m alright. You?” The blond woman replied, looking into Rick’s eyes. 

“Yea, I-I'm good,” Rick belatedly replied, snapping out of his stupor Rick added on “I’m rick,” and held out his hand.

“Diane, I’m Diane,” The beautiful blond woman, now known as Diane, replied, she smiled widely and shook his hand. 

In that fleeting moment, smiles lingering on their lips, their eyes locked in a captivating gaze, the world around them seemed to dissolve into a blur of insignificance. Time momentarily ceased its relentless march as the connection between them grew stronger. Everything else faded away, leaving only the enchantment of their shared presence. It was as if they were suspended in a timeless bubble, encapsulated by a profound sense of connection and mutual understanding. In that brief yet profound encounter, the world outside ceased to matter as they immersed themselves in the unspoken language of the heart. 

The magical moment was abruptly shattered by a loud yell piercing through the air. "Rick!" The voice rang out, and Rick's gaze shifted towards the source, finding Jason energetically waving at him, a wide grin stretching across his face. Rick's cheeks flushed bright red, and he reluctantly released Diane's hand, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I'll see you around?" Rick ventured, hopefulness evident in his voice.

Diane responded, her voice laced with amusement, "Yeah, I work as an intern here."

After a brief pause, Rick waved goodbye and turned toward Jason, his steps still somewhat stiff, his face burning with an enduring blush. As he reached Jason and his car, the sound of laughter filled the air, accompanied by a knowing smile from his best friend. Rick playfully shoved Jason's shoulder, and they both climbed into the car, Rick occupying the passenger seat while Jason made his way to the driver's seat.

Rick hunched forward, his hands covering his face as he tried to collect himself and regain his composure. A deep sigh escaped from between his fingers, expressing a mix of embarrassment and bewilderment.

"You doing alright there, Rick?" Jason's voice carried a playful tone, breaking through Rick's self-imposed moment of contemplation.

"Shut up and drive, Jason," Rick's response came out slightly muffled as he continued to hide his face in his hands.

Jason chuckled, relishing in the lighthearted banter, and started the car, steering them towards the dormitories. The car quickly filled with laughter and lighthearted teasing from Jason, his jovial spirit permeating the atmosphere. Rick, on the other hand, couldn't help but emit groans, still caught in the clutches of embarrassment from the recent encounter. He struggled to find words to describe the warmth blooming in his chest, the inexplicable fluttering sensation causing his heart to race.

As they continued their journey, the playful banter and light-hearted atmosphere eased Rick's lingering self-consciousness, gradually replacing it with a sense of camaraderie and shared excitement. Despite the residual blush on his cheeks, Rick couldn't deny the subtle thrill that tinged the air around him, hinting at the possibilities of his new life. 

After a short drive, they arrived at a five-story building that housed Rick's dormitory. Jason playfully nudged Rick's shoulder, signalling that it was time to exit the car. Rick gathered his belongings, double-checking that he had his keys, and stepped out of the vehicle. Glancing at the backseat, he noticed Jason already retrieving a few boxes and heading towards the entrance of the building. Taking the cue, Rick collected the rest of the boxes and hurriedly followed suit, shutting the door behind him.

They ascended the steps together, the weight of anticipation mingling with the physical burden of their belongings. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the stairwell as they made their way to Rick's assigned room. Rick couldn't contain his excitement and admiration for their new surroundings. He rambled on, his words flowing with enthusiasm, while Jason listened, following him higher up the staircase.

"Isn't this place amazing, Jason? It's absolutely beautiful! I mean, I know you've already moved in, but just look at it!" Rick's excitement bubbled over as he marvelled at their surroundings, his voice carrying a mix of awe and delight.

Chuckling, Jason couldn't resist teasing his friend. "Yeah, you're right, Rick. But I have a feeling it's not just the surroundings that you find beautiful. Perhaps a certain blond as well?" He winked mischievously, knowing exactly how to fluster Rick.

Rick's face instantly flushed with a deep shade of red, and he halted in his tracks, momentarily speechless. He stammered out feeble excuses, attempting to divert the conversation. Meanwhile, Jason effortlessly opened the room with his key, prompting Rick to catch up.

Entering the room behind Jason, Rick was taken aback by what he saw. Half of the room was already filled with Jason's belongings. Shocked, Rick blurted out, "Wait, we're roommates?"

Jason responded with a nonchalant nod and a slight smirk, emphasising the obviousness of the situation. "Yup," he replied, savouring the surprise on Rick's face, his voice playfully punctuated with a popping 'p' sound.

With a wide grin, Rick set his belongings down and eagerly began unpacking. He carefully arranged his inventions, gadgets, and various contraptions around his side of the room, creating a mini laboratory of sorts. Jason watched with fascination, engaging in conversation as Rick excitedly shared stories about his creations and the ideas behind them. As Rick unpacked, the room became a captivating display of his innovative mind. Wires, circuit boards, and prototypes were carefully placed, showcasing his passion for tinkering and experimenting. Jason listened attentively, genuinely interested in the projects Rick had been working on.

The room buzzed with an atmosphere of curiosity and creativity, as the two friends settled into their shared space, sharing stories, ideas, and laughter. Talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Engrossed in their conversation, the passage of time seemed almost inconsequential. As the sun gradually descended in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the campus, Rick and Jason realised that their rumbling stomachs were a gentle reminder that it was time for dinner.

Jason, ever the food enthusiast, enthusiastically suggested a nearby cafe known for its delectable assortment of Western cuisine. "Hey, Rick, there's this fantastic cafe not too far from here. They serve all kinds of delicious Western food. What do you say we check it out?"

Rick's eyes lit up with anticipation as his hunger joined forces with his curiosity. "That sounds amazing, Jason! I'm up for trying something new. Lead the way!"

“Before that, I thought it'd be funny to give you this, Einstein,” Jason held up a white trench coat towards Rick. 

He gingerly accepted it from Jason's outstretched hands, feeling the softness of the fabric beneath his fingertips. A rush of gratitude washed over him as he realised the thoughtfulness behind this playful gesture. As he draped the coat over his shoulders, Rick couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence and a sense of belonging. "Thank you, Jason," Rick replied, his voice laced with warmth and sincerity. The gesture touched him deeply, reinforcing the bond between them 

With a smile, Jason playfully nudged Rick, breaking him out of his reverie. "Don't mention it, Einstein. But now, let's not keep our hunger waiting. Dinner awaits!"

Rick chuckled, the shared laughter and playful banter reminding him of the genuine friendship he had found in Jason. With a final glance at the white trench coat he wore, Rick followed his friend out of the room.

As they entered the car, the engine hummed to life, propelling them toward their destination. Soon enough, they arrived at the charming cafe that Jason had recommended. The sight that greeted them was nothing short of enchanting.

The entire cafe was nestled in an outdoor setting, adorned with wooden pillars and strings of twinkling fairy lights, casting a warm and inviting glow. Green vines curled around each pillar and fell from the beams above. The ambiance was alive with the hum of conversations, laughter, and the clinking of cutlery, as patrons from all walks of life gathered to enjoy their meals and share their stories.

Rick and Jason stepped into this bustling tapestry of life, taking in the vibrant atmosphere that surrounded them. Each person had their own unique tale, reflected in their expressions and gestures. From students engrossed in animated discussions to couples sharing intimate moments, the cafe seemed to be a microcosm of human connection and experiences.

They found an available table and settled in, immersing themselves in the lively ambiance. It was a place where conversations flowed freely, where ideas were exchanged, and where friendships were forged. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and tantalising aromas wafted through the air, adding to the sensory symphony that enveloped the cafe.

Amidst the colourful array of individuals, Rick and Jason felt a sense of belonging, knowing that they too were part of this vibrant community. They eagerly perused the menu, their minds brimming with anticipation, eager to indulge in the culinary delights that awaited them.

“I’ll get the carbonara,” Rick exclaimed excitedly, looking as if a puppy was overjoyed. 

“Then I’ll have the same,” Jason replied while waving down a waiter. And ordering for them along with 2 waters. 

Conversation flowed between the two light banter and teasing, along with excitement and joy. The stars above twinkled and sparkled, dancing across the sky as moonlight soon rained down on them. They were soon halted by a cough as they looked up, Diane  stood there with a smile on her face.

“Mind if I join you boys?” she asked 

Rick's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as Diane joined their table, her presence adding an unexpected twist to their evening. Despite his momentary surprise, he managed to regain his composure and offered Diane a warm smile.

Jason, ever the easygoing and hospitable friend, welcomed Diane with open arms. "We'd be thrilled to have you join us! It's a pleasant surprise, really."

"O-of course, Diane. Please, have a seat," Rick said, his voice carrying a mix of genuine delight and lingering shyness being too stunned to say anything at first.

As Diane settled into her seat, the conversation resumed its lively pace, effortlessly weaving between topics. Laughter punctuated the air as they shared stories, exchanged anecdotes, and savoured the flavours of their meals. Rick found himself slowly relaxing in Diane's presence, appreciating her easygoing nature and the genuine connection they seemed to share. Rick and Jason bantered with each other as Diane piped in from time to time.

Rick, known for his quick wit and clever comebacks, couldn't resist injecting a dose of his signature sass into the banter.

Rick playfully twirled a strand of spaghetti on his fork, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "You know, Jason, I heard that the cafeteria food here is so delicious that even the great Keith Floyd would shed tears of joy. Have you tried it yet?"

Jason grinned, ready to engage in the friendly banter. "Oh, come on, Rick! Don't be too hard on our cafeteria chefs. I'm sure they're doing their best to whip up some gourmet delights for us hungry scholars."

Diane chimed in, her voice filled with warmth and kindness. "Well, regardless of the rumours, I must admit I'm quite fond of our little cafe here. The atmosphere, the delectable food, and, of course, the wonderful company make it a delightful experience."

Rick smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Ah, so you're saying the company is wonderful, well I would agree. But you see Jason here isn’t all that nice to be around,” Jason let out an offended ‘Hey’ as Rick continued not paying him mind, “but what about the food, Diane? Can it match up to your impeccable taste?"

Diane chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, Rick, it may not be Michelin-star worthy, but it definitely satisfies my cravings and adds a touch of comfort to my days here. Plus, Jason’s company does make up for any culinary shortcomings."

Jason joined in, eager to keep the lighthearted banter going. "That's right, Rick. It's not all about the food. It's about the friendships we forge, the moments we share, and the laughter that fills the air. And hey, if we get a tasty meal in the process, it's an added bonus!"

Under the moonlit sky, the stars above seemed to twinkle in approval, casting a gentle glow over the trio as they forged an unexpected friendship. Rick marvelled at the serendipitous encounter. As the night wore on, their table became a haven of laughter, camaraderie, and shared experiences. The initial awkwardness had transformed into a sense of comfort and familiarity. Rick felt grateful for the unexpected bond forming between them. Amidst the captivating atmosphere of the outdoor cafe, with the stars as their witnesses, Rick, Jason, and Diane shared a memorable evening, one that would become a cherished chapter in their intertwined stories.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6.5: Friendships

Age: 19

Rick sat perched on a sturdy blue stool, his body hunched over in a familiar posture, diligently transcribing intricate formulas onto paper. With unwavering dedication, he delved into the realms of research and calculation, exploring the properties of every known element. Mixing various proportions together, he eagerly awaited the results, always cautious to avoid any catastrophic explosions. Lost in his thoughts, Rick remained oblivious to the arrival of his companions, Jason and Diane. Their lively conversation ceased abruptly as they entered the room, their eyes fixated on their blue-haired friend, donned in a long-sleeved blue shirt with his customary white coat layered on top. Completing the ensemble were a pair of loose-fitting jeans, accentuating Rick's unique style.

Sporting a mischievous smirk, Jason stealthily crept up behind Rick, relishing the opportunity to startle his friend. "Hey, Einstein, what's cookin'?" he playfully quipped. Startled by the unexpected voice, Rick jolted in his seat, causing a tube of chemicals to topple over and spill onto his desk. Which resulted in the disintegration of his meticulously detailed calculation sheet, scattering the remnants of his work across the surface.

"Oh, shit, shit, shit, JASON!" Rick exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency as he hastily scrambled to gather and contain the spreading mess. Determined to salvage whatever remained of his painstaking work, he worked frantically to salvage the scattered pieces. Meanwhile, Jason found great amusement in Rick's flustered state, his laughter echoing through the room.

Just as Rick's frustration reached its peak, ready to unleash his anger upon Jason for his antics, their confrontation was abruptly interrupted by a sudden cough. The two friends paused their exchange and gradually turned their attention toward the source of the sound. Standing at the room's entrance, Diane greeted them with a gleeful expression on her face. "Are you boys finished?" she chuckled, clearly amused by the chaotic scene that had unfolded before her.

Rick stood stiffly, his face flushed with embarrassment as he locked eyes with Diane. Just as he began to regain his composure, Jason playfully smacked Rick's shoulder, snapping him out of his stupor. "W-w-what are you guys doing here? I thought you had classes?" Rick stammered, hurriedly rearranging his test tubes in an attempt to regain some order.

"Our class got cancelled, so we thought we'd drag your ass out for lunch," Jason replied with a teasing smirk. "Unless you'd rather stay here with your gizmos and miss out on some quality bonding time."

"No way, just give me a second, I'll be right there," Rick replied, his voice filled with eagerness as he swiftly tidied up his workspace. He watched as the pair left the room, calling out, "Hey, wait up!"

"Better hurry, Rick, or Jason will devour the entire restaurant to bankruptcy, again." Diane chuckled, her voice laced with amusement.

"That's because Jason's a glutton you shouldn't associate with, Diane," Rick retorted, his tone teasing. Finally catching up to his friends, Jason sarcastically said, "Rick, Rick, Rick, that's not very nice of you. I guess you aren’t as smart as you seem,"

A playful exchange of shoves ensued between Rick and Jason, as they raced ahead, leaving Diane trailing behind with a joyful laugh. Observing the lively interaction, Diane quickened her pace, determined to catch up with the pair.

"Hey, slowpokes! Wait up!" Diane called out, her voice filled with mirth as she tried to catch up with Rick and Jason, who were engaged in their playful antics.

Rick glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You'll have to pick up the pace, Diane! We can't let Jason devour the entire city now, can we?"

Jason playfully scoffed. "Hey, I have a healthy appetite, thank you very much! Besides, it's not my fault the restaurant's all-you-can-eat buffet is too tempting to resist."

Diane chuckled, falling into stride with the two friends. "Well, I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on both of you then, to make sure you don't leave any crumbs behind."

Rick smirked. "That's what friends are for, right? We're here to keep each other in check, even if it means intervening in Jason's never-ending quest for food."

Jason playfully bumped Rick's shoulder. "Hey, watch it, Einstein! You might be a genius with those formulas, but don't forget who's got the bottomless stomach here."

As they continued their banter, the trio's laughter filled the air. Together, they ventured towards the all you can eat bbq restaurant. They swiftly settled into their seats and placed their orders. Jason wasted no time diving into his meal, devouring piles of meat with an insatiable appetite. Diane observed him with an amused expression, while Rick couldn't help but display a mixture of disbelief and disgust.

"It never ceases to amaze me how someone can eat like a pig and still manage to maintain a human appearance," Rick remarked, unable to hold back his comment directed at Jason.

Diane intervened, her tone lighthearted. "Oh hush Rick. Let Jason enjoy his food. Slow down, Jason, or you'll end up puking it up later. The food isn't going anywhere."

Jason mumbled a response, his mouth full and unable to articulate a coherent reply amidst the food he was consuming. The sight prompted a combination of amusement and exasperation from his friends, who continued their meal in the midst of playful exchanges and shared laughter.

Rick couldn't resist adding a touch of sass to the conversation. With a raised eyebrow, he quipped, "Jason, you should consider auditioning for a competitive eating contest. I hear there's a gold medal with your name on it."

Diane burst into laughter, playfully nudging Rick. "Oh, Rick, don't be so hard on him. We all have our quirks, and Jason's just happens to involve an extraordinary capacity for devouring food."

Rick feigned a dramatic gasp, leaning in closer. "Ah, so it's a hidden talent! I never knew being a human vacuum cleaner was an actual skill. Jason, you've been holding out on us."

Jason finally managed to swallow his mouthful, grinning sheepishly. "Hey, someone's gotta appreciate the art of culinary consumption, right? Plus, you can't deny that I bring an unparalleled level of entertainment to our dining experiences."

Rick smirked, playing along. "Well, you certainly have a way of keeping us entertained. Just be sure to save some room for dessert, because I hear they've invented a new food group called 'second stomach.'"

Diane joined in, giggling. "Oh, absolutely! It's a crucial part of the food pyramid, right below 'bottomless pit.' I'm sure you'll be the spokesperson for both."

Amidst the laughter and friendly jabs, the trio savoured their meal, With their appetites satisfied, the conversation veered towards sharing embarrassing stories and experiences. Diane, ever eager to break the ice, leaned forward with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

"Alright, who's up for some embarrassing tales? I'll start!" Diane exclaimed, her excitement contagious. "Remember sometime last year when I tripped and spilled my lunch tray all over the cafeteria floor? I swear, the entire school witnessed my graceful descent."

Rick chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, Diane, that was legendary. But let's not forget the time you mistook a stranger for your mom at the grocery store and gave her a big bear hug. The look of confusion on that poor woman's face!"

Diane's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she playfully nudged Rick. "Okay, okay, fair enough. But let's not forget about you, Mr. Einstein. Remember when you accidentally set off the fire alarm during our chemistry class experiment? The whole school had to evacuate while you stood there with that guilty expression."

Rick's eyes widened, his face turning crimson. "Ah, yes, the infamous fire alarm incident. I may have underestimated the power of my concoction. But let's not overlook the time you got your foot stuck in a folding chair during a school assembly. You had the whole auditorium in stitches!"

Jason, unable to contain his laughter, chimed in. "Oh, come on, guys! You've both had your fair share of memorable moments. But do you remember when I confidently walked into a glass door, thinking it was open? That's a blooper reel moment if I've ever seen one."

The trio erupted in laughter, reminiscing about their amusing and cringe-worthy escapades. As the day progressed, the laughter continued to flow, reaching new heights of hilarity. Rick found himself in fits of laughter so intense that he struggled to catch his breath. Tears streamed down his face as he gasped for air between bouts of uncontrollable giggles. The three friends basked in the warmth of their shared merriment, cherishing the precious moments that forged an unbreakable bond. Time seemed to fade away as their laughter filled the air, creating memories that would be cherished for years to come. For Rick, this was a day etched in his heart, a day where the power of laughter reminded him of the incredible joy found in the company of cherished friends.

As the cheerful ambiance shifted abruptly, Jason's phone rang, interrupting the laughter-filled atmosphere. He swiftly apologised, excusing himself from the table. "You guys can handle the payment, can't you?" Jason said with a playful wink before leaving to take the call.

Rick and Diane exchanged a knowing glance, rolling their eyes playfully. "Typical Jason, always finding a way to escape paying," Rick quipped with a chuckle. They agreed to go to the counter to settle the bill while continuing their casual conversation about mundane topics—favourite colours, TV shows, and other lighthearted subjects.

Just as Rick finished the transaction and collected the receipt, a chilling scream pierced through the air. The scream carried an unmistakable note of anguish and pain, instantly recognized by Rick as the voice of his best friend, Jason.

Horror seized Rick's heart, his eyes widening with concern. "Diane, that was Jason! Something's wrong," he said urgently, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and determination.

Without hesitation, they raced towards the source of the scream, their previous lightheartedness now replaced by a sense of urgency and worry. Fear gripped Rick's thoughts as he prayed fervently that his dear friend would be safe. Rick's eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness outside, but he soon spotted his best friend, Jason, his face contorted in agony, tears streaming down his cheeks. Clutching his phone tightly, Jason appeared inconsolable.

Rick's heart pounded in his chest as he reached Jason's side, his eyes scanning his friend for any signs of injury, his hand instinctively searching for any signs of physical harm, while his frantic voice pleaded for answers. "Jason, what's happened? Are you hurt? Please, tell me!"

Jason's anguished sobs echoed through the room, rendering him almost incapable of speech. Tears streamed down his face as he managed to utter broken words, his voice trembling with despair. "I-It's... it's my Parents, Rick. They’re... They’re gone, Rick. They’re gone..." 

Rick's heart shattered into a million irreparable fragments, the weight of his friend's devastating loss becoming almost unbearable. He clung tightly to Jason, desperately grasping for solace, but finding none in the face of such profound tragedy. Time seemed to come to a halt as an overwhelming tide of grief washed over them, engulfing their souls in darkness. Jason buried his face into Rick’s neck. Rick was furious that they hadn’t bothered to tell something like this to Jason in person but instead a phone call. 

Diane, her own heart heavy with sorrow, approached them slowly, her steps filled with sorrowful compassion. With trembling arms, she enveloped both friends in a tender embrace, silently sharing their profound pain. No words were spoken; the silence hung with an unbearable heaviness. Rick, his soul pierced by sorrow, wept uncontrollably, realising that the loss of Jason's parents was not just a void in his friend's life, but an irreplaceable chasm that had swallowed their shared sense of family and belonging. 2 days later Jason turned 20 it was another week before Rick followed suit.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Goodbye Friend

Age: 20

Jason’s POV: 

Jason watched his two friends laugh and banter with each other, Rick and Diane, sharing hearty laughter and engaging in playful banter. Rick's vibrant blue hair fell over his face as he succumbed to fits of uncontrollable laughter, while Diane attempted to stifle her own amusement but ultimately failed. The sight of the pair led Jason to think about just how well-suited they were for each other. 

As Jason was on the verge of offering a witty response, his phone abruptly rang, interrupting the duo and capturing their attention. He glanced at his phone's screen to see that it was his father calling. He swiftly apologised, excusing himself from the table. "You guys can handle the payment, can't you?" Jason said with a playful wink before leaving to take the call. He knew Rick would end up paying, the man was hopelessly in love after all. 

Under the veil of darkness, Jason made his way towards the open field, taking the call and raising the phone to his ear. "Hey, Dad, What's up?" He greeted his father cheerfully. It was silent for a beat and Jason thought for a second that the line cut out, before someone spoke. It wasn't his father. 

“Is this Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's son, Jason Anderson?" a gruff voice resonated through the phone.

"Yes, I'm sorry, who is this?" Jason replied, his confusion growing, though he pushed aside the emerging sense of worry.

"This is the Massachusetts Police Department. I regret to inform you, under these circumstances, that your parents were found deceased in their home this morning. It appears to be a result of a robbery gone awry," the voice explained, gradually fading into the background as shock gripped Jason. He found himself denying the truth, desperately clinging to the belief that his parents were alive.

"No, no, no, no! They can't be dead. I spoke to them just last night. This has to be a mistake!" Jason's voice teetered on the edge of hysteria. Agonising grief tightened its grip on his chest, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Amidst the deafening ringing in his ears, all he could hear were the haunting words, "They were dead." The repetition echoed relentlessly in his mind: Dead. Dead. Dead.

In an overwhelming surge of anguish, Jason unleashed a soul-crushing scream, allowing his pain and sorrow to pour forth. He struggled to comprehend why his parents had met such a tragic fate. They were the epitome of kindness, the gentlest souls he had ever known. They showered him with love and cherished him. They had even selflessly embraced his best friend into their family when they discovered Rick's parents were abusive. Why them, why? The question echoed relentlessly in Jason's mind, haunting him with the absence of answers. Why? Why? Why?

Soon, hands reached out to Jason, urgently checking for any signs of physical harm, while Rick's voice rang out with concern. However, Jason had already descended into an inconsolable state. He wept and sobbed without restraint, struggling to articulate the horrifying events that had unfolded. Pressing his face into the comforting embrace of Rick's neck, Jason clung to him tightly, seeking solace from the overwhelming grief that consumed him. The longing to vanish from this painful reality surged within him. Every part of his being yearned to awaken from this tormenting nightmare and be reunited with his parents. The realisation struck him with devastating force – he would never again hear their voices or feel their touch. Jason's cries intensified, each wail carrying the weight of a profound loss that could never be undone.

Several weeks later, Jason found himself seated in the backseat of his car, with Diane behind the wheel and Rick in the passenger seat with a look on his face that mirrored Jason's own desolate state. Jason's mind was consumed by thoughts of his parents, their absence a constant ache that engulfed him. The pain and grief he carried seemed immeasurable. The days that followed the call were filled with Jason unmoving in his bed, crying and sobbing. Now he felt nothing, just an infinite numbness that seemed to spread within him. The world appeared dull and lifeless, devoid of colour and life. Time itself seemed to stretch endlessly as Jason's gaze remained fixed on the ground, his eyes vacant and clouded, reflecting the depths of his inner torment. 

"Jason, are you hungry? We could get your favourite, bbq?" Diane's voice trembled softly, laced with concern and a touch of apprehension. It had been days since Jason had consumed a proper meal, and the toll was evident in his pale and lifeless appearance. Rick and Diane had been doing their best to provide solace and support, offering comfort during Jason's panic attacks and moments of overwhelming sorrow. However, with Rick himself struggling to cope, Diane had taken it upon herself to shoulder the responsibility of caring for both of them.

A sudden surge of uncontrollable anger engulfed Jason, seething within him with an intensity he couldn't comprehend. It overflowed, consuming his every thought and feeling. A profound hatred seemed to permeate his being, directed towards everything and everyone around him. The car seat digging into his back became an unbearable nuisance, the radio's sound an irritating noise, and even Diane's voice grated on his frayed nerves. The anger surged forth, prompting Jason to snap at Diane, his words laced with a mix of frustration and anguish. "NO, just... Just leave me alone, Diane! How could you even think about food at a time like this?"

Diane's mouth snapped shut with an audible click, taken aback by Jason's outburst. She mumbled a soft apology, her expression reflecting a mix of surprise and hurt. Meanwhile, Rick, glancing back at his best friend, was equally taken aback by the uncharacteristic anger that emanated from Jason's voice. In all the years they had known each other, Rick had never witnessed Jason in such a state.

Guilt began to bubble within Jason's chest, a pang of remorse tugging at his conscience. Yet, he chose to push it aside, deliberately ignoring the weight of his actions. Seeking solace from the overwhelming emotions, Jason decided to retreat into sleep, hoping that the respite of slumber would bring some relief from the pain that consumed him. 

The trio reached the cemetery, and Jason was the first to step out of the car, closely followed by Rick and Diane. Clad in sombre black attire, Jason's tie was loosely undone, and his shirt appeared dishevelled, mirroring the disarray within his own being. His appearance reflected the weight of his grief, as if he embodied the essence of death itself. Rick and Diane made attempts to maintain a semblance of presentability, but the exhaustion was evident in the dark circles beneath their eyes, betraying the toll that sorrow had taken on them. 

As the trio walked behind Jason whose hands were in his pockets, hunched and looking down. Diane couldn't help but express her concern for Jason's well-being.

She turned to Rick, her voice filled with worry. "Rick, I'm really worried about Jason. He's been spiralling lately, and his anger... It's not like him. We need to find a way to help him through this." 

Rick, however, appeared in a daze, struggling to find the right words to respond. "Look, I know he's going through a rough time, but what can we really do? We're just as lost as he is. It's not like we have all the answers."

Diane persisted, determined to offer support in any way she could. "I understand that, Rick, but we can be there for him. We can listen, show him that he's not alone. Sometimes just having someone to lean on can make a difference."

Rick sighed, and nodded, walking forward to catch up with Jason. The conversation ended there, both Diane and Rick understanding the importance of being present for Jason during this difficult time, despite their own struggles.

As the ceremony unfolded, the weight of Jason's grief bore down upon him, rendering him unable to fully engage with the proceedings. Every breath felt heavy, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. The sound of mournful hymns and whispered prayers blended together, distant and muffled, as his mind remained consumed by a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Jason's thoughts became a chaotic symphony of memories and unanswered questions. He replayed moments spent with his parents, their laughter, their warm embraces. The realisation that those cherished moments were forever gone gnawed at his soul, leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill. Questions haunted him: Why did they have to die? Why were they taken away so abruptly, leaving him behind? He found himself caught in an endless loop of agonising "what ifs" and shattered dreams. Dreams where they would be there for his graduation, his wedding, to give him advice.

The sound of dirt hitting the caskets below reverberated in his ears, a stark reminder of the finality of it all. But as the minutes turned into hours, Jason stood there, lost in his own world of crippling grief, oblivious to the passage of time. The cerulean sky darkened, matching the heaviness in his heart. Raindrops gradually fell as if the heavens themselves wept for the loss he’s been subjected to suffer.

The surrounding mourners gradually dispersed, seeking solace in the shelter of loved ones and the warmth of shared memories. Yet, Jason remained standing, rooted in his spot, his pain holding him captive. It was as if time stood still, the world continuing its relentless march forward, while he was suspended in a state of constant anguish. 

The rain intensified, its steady rhythm accentuating the desolation he felt. Each droplet seemed to mirror the tears that cascaded down his cheeks, merging into a torrent of sorrow. In the midst of the downpour, he felt the large unfillable gap in his heart. The absence of his parents' comforting presence, the void left by their departure, echoed in the emptiness that consumed him.

As the last echoes of the ceremony faded, Jason stood before the grave, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his grief-stricken form. The world around him became a blur, the rain obscuring his vision. In this moment, he felt utterly and irreparably alone. The silence of the cemetery mingled with the rhythmic patter of raindrops, serving as a poignant backdrop to his profound sorrow.

It was in this desolate moment that Jason's grief took hold, a tempest raging within him. The enormity of his loss crashed against the shores of his heart, threatening to overwhelm him. He yearned for the solace of his parents' presence, for their comforting words and warm embraces, but all that remained were memories etched upon his soul.

As the rain continued to pour, Jason's anguish mingled with the cascading water, absorbed by the earth below. His grief became intertwined with the very fabric of his being, shaping him into a vessel of sorrow and anger. In this moment of solitude, he surrendered to the uncontrollable anger he felt at the world. And so, Jason stood there, a solitary figure amidst the rain, grappling with his grief, each droplet serving as a bittersweet reminder of the love he had lost. A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, he realised it was Rick. “Jason, you’re going to get sick let's head to a motel,”

Diane let out a hum of concern, her voice soft as she tried to urge Jason to follow her lead. However, anger gripped Jason's very essence, fueling his impulsive actions. He forcefully shoved the hand on his shoulder away, ignoring the silent plea in Diane's eyes, and stormed away in a fit of rage. Rick called out to him, but Jason's mind was too clouded to register the words that were being spoken.  In his heightened state of fury, Jason's first instinct was to push away whoever had grabbed him, disregarding any consideration for the consequences. With a rough shove, he sent Rick sprawling onto the muddy ground, soaked and looking up at him with sorrowful eyes. The guilt tugged at Jason's conscience, but he ignored it, drowning it out with his anger. With venom in his voice, he yelled at Rick, unleashing the pent-up frustrations within him.

"Fuck off, Rick!" Jason's voice echoed through the rain-soaked cemetery, carrying with it the weight of his resentment. He lashed out, desperate to find a target for his anger and pain.

Rick replied, “c’mon Jason lets head to a motel, its cold and your going to get sick, You’re parents wouldn’t want that,”

“What do you know of MY parents Rick, although you have parents, they were so shit you might as well have stolen mine.” Jason yelled

Rick attempted to explain himself, to bridge the growing chasm between them, but his words were swiftly interrupted by Jason's continued tirade.

"Didn't what, go on, Rick! Say it, because we all know that this is all your fault!" Jason's accusations flew like daggers, each word sharpened by his anger. Somewhere deep down knowing it was wrong and yet still wanted to let his anger out, “If it weren’t for you, I would have gone back home for the weekend, I could have been there, stopped it, but noooo YOU had to want to stay back and do whatever it is that you do with your inventions,” He blamed Rick for the tragedy that had befallen his family, convinced that if only Rick had not convinced him to stay, he could have prevented the unimaginable.

The air crackled with tension as Rick rose from the muddy ground, his voice now matching Jason's intensity. He defended himself, pushing back against the accusations hurled his way.

"You could have gone on your own if you wanted. I never asked for you to stay. I always knew you were foolish, but you should thank me. If it happened as you said, then you should be grateful I saved your ungrateful ass. You would have died too!"

Jason responded with a bitter laugh, infused with anger and venom, his words dripping with spite. "GOOD! At least I wouldn't have to look at you anymore if I were dead. At least I'd be with my parents!"

“SIX FEET UNDER IS WHERE YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN, let me help you I understand how you feel” Rick replied

The verbal sparring continued, each word punctuated by their escalating rage. Rick's attempt to offer understanding was met with scorn, and Jason couldn't resist the temptation to belittle Rick further, attacking his lack of a family and his perceived superiority.

"At least it would be better than being here with you, Rick. You think you're so smart, looking down on the rest of us. You don't have a family, so you couldn't possibly understand how I'm feeling anyways!"Jason replied

Diane, ever the voice of reason, interjected, her voice filled with exasperation and a touch of desperation, attempting to diffuse the growing hostility. "Enough, both of you! This isn't the time to be fighting."

Jason's anger redirected itself towards Diane, his words laced with venom as he dismissed her presence. “Oh fuck of Diane, you’re not apart of this so why don’t you run along now?”

“JASON! we're leaving, come on well get a motel and talk about this,” Diane's plea fell on deaf ears as Jason's frustration escalated. Determined to escape the chaos, Jason abruptly turned and ran, the sound of Rick calling out his name lingering in his ears, though his mind refused to acknowledge it.

Years ago Rick and Jason had a fight. As the fight grew larger and larger the real reason for the fight was forgotten. That didn’t stop Jason and Rick from saying things they didn’t mean. 

"Jason, you ass! What is wrong with you? Can't you just leave me alone?" Rick's voice crackled with frustration, his teeth clenched in anger as he confronted Jason.

Paying no heed to the potential consequences, Jason continued to poke at Rick, his tone monotonous and devoid of empathy. "You're the one who's looking like a kicked puppy. And to be honest, aren't you the one always leaching from my family whenever you need something?"

The words struck a nerve within Rick, his façade crumbling as his voice trembled, tears threatening to spill. "Fine! I'm sorry. I guess I'll just never see you and your family again since you think of me as a burden," Rick's admission came out in a choked whisper, his vulnerability exposed.

Jason's pride took over, his guilt simmering beneath the surface. His next words dripped with callousness, hitting Rick where it hurt the most. "Good! I'll finally get some peace and quiet from your constant ramblings."

The weight of Jason's words bore down heavily on Rick, his tears flowing freely as he watched Jason walk away. The thought of losing his best friend was unbearable, and in a desperate attempt to salvage their bond, Rick called out to Jason through sobs, rubbing his eyes to stem the tears.

Jason felt a surge of guilt wash over him, regret gnawing at his insides. He knew deep down that his words had gone too far, that he had wounded Rick deeply. But his wounded pride and stubbornness prevented him from extending an apology. 

Jason's heart shattered at the sound of Rick's broken voice, the weight of his friend's apologies piercing through his stubbornness. He watched as Rick stuttered out his remorse, pleading for Jason to stay, promising to change and do anything to make things right.

"I-i-i'm sor-sorry Jason, pl-plea-se don't- don't go. I'll stop m-my annoying ramblings a-a-and i'l-l do an-anything," Rick's sobs echoed in the air, his eyes red and swollen from the torrent of tears. Desperately trying to regain control, he rubbed his eyes, attempting to stem the flow of emotions.

Jason's guilt became overwhelming, a torrent of regret flooding his entire being. Without a second thought, he ran toward his best friend, embracing him tightly. The fight, the hurtful words—they all faded into insignificance in that moment.

“I’m sorry Rick, I’m not leaving, I’ll never leave you, I’m sorry.”

Rick stood in the rain, tears flowing down his cheeks and trembling all over, as he watched Jason turn his back and run. Weakly Rick called out to Jason but it was left unheard as the blond man ran further and further away. 

Jason sprinted relentlessly, pushing through the relentless downpour, his screams reverberating through the air until his voice grew hoarse and pained. Gradually, his pace subsided, and he hunched over, gasping for precious breath, while the rain continued its incessant descent. In an uncanny twist of fate, Jason stood before the very house he had once called home, inundated with memories from his childhood. As his phone buzzed insistently within his pocket, he glanced at the screen, realising it was Rick calling. Contemplating for a moment, Jason made the resolute decision to power down his phone, disconnecting himself from the outside world.

Jason cautiously approached the front door, his heart pounding with trepidation, as he noticed the surroundings enveloped in a haunting atmosphere. Police caution tape crisscrossed the entrance, a stark barrier separating him from the enigmatic secrets that lay within. Ignoring the warnings, he resolutely pushed past the tape and stepped into the eerie stillness of the once-familiar abode.

As he crossed the threshold, an oppressive silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant sound of raindrops tapping against the windows. The house, once a sanctuary, now resembled a crime scene plucked straight from the pages of a chilling thriller. The walls, adorned with tape, seemed to whisper tales of anguish and tragedy. Every room bore the traces of a relentless investigation, meticulously outlined by the authorities. 

Memories flooded back as he ventured inside, recalling the countless occasions he had carelessly tracked mud through the house, incurring the wrath of his mother. But now, the once-familiar abode appeared eerie and foreboding. With tape crisscrossing every inch, from the bookshelves to the ceilings. The kitchen lay in disarray, a chaotic sight of shattered plates and broken glass scattered haphazardly. Notably, an outline on the floor caught Jason's attention, and he surmised that it must have been the location where one of his parents had met their untimely end.

Numbly, Ascending the creaking staircase, each step echoing in the desolate corridors, Jason was met with an unsettling sight. The upstairs hallway, bathed in the pale glow of flickering overhead lights, cast eerie shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive as he moved deeper into the house, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him.

Reaching the landing, he peered into each room with a mixture of dread and curiosity. The bedrooms, once havens of comfort, now stood as haunting reminders of a shattered existence. Mattresses lay upturned, drawers pulled out and emptied, as if the space had been ransacked by an invisible force. The air carried a stale scent, tinged with the remnants of violence and despair.

Guided by an inexplicable instinct, Jason followed the dim glow of a solitary light emanating from a room at the end of the hallway. With every step, his heart pounded louder, his palms growing damp with sweat. The door, partially ajar, beckoned him, drawing him closer to the truth that awaited within. Summoning his courage, he pushed the door of his parents room open.

Jason's eyes widened in horror as he surveyed the scene before him. The walls bore the haunting evidence of violence, with bullet holes etched into their surfaces like macabre artwork. The room reeked of tragedy, and the air was heavy with the scent of metallic blood. His gaze dropped to the floor, where the once pristine carpet now lay tainted with crimson stains, a stark reminder of the brutality that had unfolded. His heart sank as he noticed a chilling silhouette imprinted near the foot of the bed. This outline, smaller than the others, sent a shiver down his spine. It was his mother's final resting place, forever frozen in the image of that tragic moment.

Jason's mind raced, trying to comprehend the unfathomable. The weight of grief and loss pressed upon him, threatening to engulf him in a sea of sorrow. The room seemed to echo with the echoes of anguish, the memories of a life forever shattered. He took a faltering step forward, drawn towards the bed where the tragedy had unfolded. Each inch closer felt like an eternity, but he couldn't tear his gaze away. The scene was etched into his mind, an indelible imprint of pain and sorrow.

With trembling hands, Jason reached out, his fingertips grazing the edge of the bedspread. Emotions welled up within him, a maelstrom of grief, anger, and disbelief. Amidst the grim surroundings, Jason's mind became consumed by haunting questions. What were his parents' last thoughts? Did they experience pain in their final moments? His thoughts spiralled into a vortex of anguish and uncertainty, lost in the abyss of his own contemplation.

Suddenly, the piercing sound of hurried footsteps reverberated from the staircase, abruptly interrupting Jason's descent into despair. His eyes widened in shock, his gaze fixated on the entrance to the room. A surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins as his heart raced with a mix of fear and anticipation. Could it be? Was the man that was responsible for this, the murder of his parents, back?

As his anxiety peaked, the figure emerged into the room, and Jason's breath caught in his throat. Familiar eyes, belonging to Rick, locked with his own in a moment of intense confrontation. Their gazes clashed, the vivid blue of Jason's eyes juxtaposed against Rick's piercing hazel stare. Time seemed to stand still as their silent exchange spoke volumes. Conflicting emotions swirled within Jason. He felt a maelstrom of confusion, relief, and disappointment. 

"Hey," Rick's voice broke the silence, filled with concern and tenderness. "Are you okay?"

Jason, unable to find his voice, simply nodded, his gaze fixed on the stairs ahead. As he moved to walk past Rick, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, halting his steps. Jason looked up, meeting Rick's eyes, and saw a mixture of insecurities and sorrow reflected in them.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Jason managed to croak out, his voice filled with raw emotion. He couldn't bear to maintain eye contact, his gaze shifting away.

Rick's grip loosened, and he spoke softly, "It's alright. I understand. Diane has arranged a motel for us to stay. Let's go."

Jason nodded, feeling a sense of numbness enveloping him. He followed behind Rick, their footsteps echoing through the desolate house, as they left.

Months later, In his dimly lit dorm room, a haze of smoke enveloped Jason, swirling and dancing in the air like ethereal tendrils. Perched on the edge of his bed, he slouched, the weight of depression pressing heavily upon his shoulders. The dull glow of a cigarette illuminated his face, casting a melancholic shadow across his features.

As he took a long drag, wisps of smoke escaped his lips, mingling with the stagnant air of the room. The tendrils curled and twisted, mirroring the turbulence within his mind. The scent of tobacco permeated the space, mingling with the faint aroma of neglected responsibilities and faded dreams. The room itself, adorned with neglected textbooks and scattered papers, bore the marks of indifference. Ashtrays dotted the surfaces, littered with the remnants of countless cigarettes, like silent witnesses to Jason's struggles. The walls, once vibrant with posters and reminders of happier times, now held only faded memories and stains of nicotine.

With each inhale, the smoke filled his lungs, momentarily providing a fleeting escape from the weight of his thoughts. The smoke seemed to blur the edges of reality, creating a temporary shield against the pain that plagued his soul. But as the smoke dissipated, the darkness within his mind remained, unyielding.

Jason's eyes, bloodshot and distant, stared off into the wall, their spark dulled by the weight of his sorrow. His movements were slow and deliberate, his gestures shrouded in a cloud of resignation. The room itself, a sanctuary for his melancholy, echoed with the sounds of his deep exhales and heavy sighs, punctuating the stillness.

In this smoky refuge, Jason sought solace, albeit fleetingly. The act of smoking became a ritual, a bittersweet companion in his battle against the demons within. The room, infused with the scent and presence of smoke, became an emblem of his struggle, a tangible reminder of the haze that clouded his existence. 

As the smoke swirled around Jason, his mind lost in a haze of thoughts, the door swung open, interrupting his solitary contemplation. Rick entered, his gaze filled with concern and a touch of disapproval. He gently chided Jason about his smoking habit, urging him to reconsider.

"Fuck off," Jason responded apathetically, his lackluster retort accompanied by another drag of his cigarette. He raised an eyebrow when Rick started to cough, a hint of defiance gleaming in his eyes.

"Didn't your dad smoke? Shouldn't you be used to this?" Jason asked, a touch of bitterness colouring his words.

Rick's reply came with a slight edge, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Oh, so you can talk more than just two words. I was starting to get worried your brain had gotten fried."

A fleeting smirk appeared on Jason's face, a rare sight in recent times. Sensing a glimmer of openness, Rick ventured further, asking if Jason wanted to talk. The silence between them grew heavy, as Jason remained stubbornly silent, refusing to engage.

Sighing, Rick persisted, "Jason, come on, man. I need you here. Why don't we get some food?"

Annoyed and defeated, Jason replied, his voice laced with frustration, "Why am I the only one hurting? Did my parents mean nothing to you? Rick, they took you in. Maybe it was a mistake after all."

Stunned by the venom in Jason's words, Rick began to deflate. "I loved them, and you know that. I'm going to get some food," he said, his voice tinged with resignation, already turning towards the door.

But as he moved to leave, Jason's voice erupted in a mix of anguish and anger. "They didn't love you. They had to put up with your ass because I begged them to. It's your fault, you know, that they died," he spat, the venom dripping from his words like poison. In that moment, Jason wanted the world to feel the same pain that consumed him.

Rick, tears welling up in his eyes, turned to face Jason, his gaze filled with a mix of hurt and disbelief. He stood there, silently absorbing the weight of Jason's accusation, before quietly leaving the room.

Left alone with the remnants of their bitter exchange, Jason's heart sank. The room felt emptier than ever, the air heavy with regret and the irreparable damage caused by his words. In the silence that followed, he was left to confront the consequences of his pain-inflicted outburst, his emotions tangled in a web of guilt and sorrow. 

As Jason's thoughts spiralled deeper into a mix of guilt and self-loathing, the realisation of Rick's unwavering support began to weigh heavily on his conscience. Memories flooded his mind, vividly recalling the countless instances when Rick's unwavering loyalty and unmatched intelligence had shone through. The brilliance of Rick's mind, which seemed unparalleled, served as a stark contrast to Jason's own internal struggles. The stark realisation hit him hard – Rick deserved better than the burden of his troubled presence. A sense of unworthiness enveloped Jason, his thoughts consumed by the belief that Rick would be better off without him.

A cascade of memories replayed in Jason's mind, showcasing Rick's unwavering kindness and his constant efforts to uplift and assist. From late-night study sessions to patient explanations of complex concepts, Rick had always gone above and beyond to support Jason, even during his darkest moments. Jason couldn't help but wonder why someone as remarkable as Rick had chosen to be by his side.

The weight of guilt intensified. 

Rick’s POV:

As Rick left the room, a heavy cloud of defeat settled over him. Despite being considered the smartest among their trio, Rick felt utterly powerless, unable to come up with a single solution to help his friend. The weight of guilt and uselessness bore down on him, evoking a sense of helplessness that transported him back to his childhood, where he would curl up under the covers, consumed by tears and a pervasive sense of inadequacy.

Thoughts of the past few months flooded Rick's mind. He and Diane had gone above and beyond to support Jason, extending a helping hand, bringing him food, and offering comfort as he grappled with his turbulent emotions. But instead of witnessing progress, they had witnessed a steady decline. Jason had grown more aggressive, more apathetic, and Rick couldn't fathom the source of his friend's self-destructive behaviour. Where had Jason even obtained the cigarettes that seemed to be his constant companion?

The memory of the first time Rick saw Jason erupt in anger, cigarette in hand, still haunted him. At that moment, Rick swore he saw shades of his father in his friend's place. The resemblance was jarring, a painful reminder of the past and the unresolved emotions that lingered with it. Rick despised the fact that Jason seemed to hold him responsible for the tragic loss of his parents. Perhaps, in a way, Rick was to blame. He had prevented Jason from going home that fateful day, prioritising his own desires and inventions. It was selfish and Rick knew it, driven by his own ambitions and obliviousness to the impending tragedy. Now, he bore the weight of that decision, his guilt gnawing at his conscience, always there as a voice in the back of his head.

Rick couldn't help but reflect on the role reversal that had occurred between him and Jason. While Rick had once relied on Jason's support during his panic episodes, it was now Diane who stepped in, offering her warmth and care as Rick took on the responsibility of caring for Jason. The dynamic had shifted, leaving Rick grappling with his own vulnerabilities and questioning his ability to be enough for Jason. Rick was snapped out of his thoughts as he started to order some food, robotically saying the order he and Jason always used to get. Diane joined him as he gathered the packed meals.

On their way back to the room with food in hand and Diane following closely behind, she voiced her concern, "How is he?"

"He hates me. He wishes he never met me," Rick replied, his insecurities laid bare for Diane to witness. "I bring nothing but misery everywhere I go."

Diane's response was filled with empathy and reassurance. "That's not true. He loves you. He's just going through a difficult time. I believe he'll find his way back."

Feeling a glimmer of hope, Rick pondered aloud, "You're right. Maybe we should drag him out of that room and take him to the aquarium he always wanted to visit."

“"Absolutely," Diane chimed in, her voice filled with optimism. "And afterward, we can treat him to some delicious barbecue to lift his spirits."

As the duo approached the door, Rick took the lead, his mind consumed with thoughts of reaching out to Jason. He opened the door, about to call out Jason's name, when his words caught in his throat. Shock gripped him as he stood frozen, unable to comprehend the sight before his eyes.

There, hanging from the ceiling, was Jason. His lifeless body swayed gently, eyes bloodshot and wide open, staring directly at Rick. Time seemed to stand still as the weight of the unimaginable tragedy crashed down upon Rick's heart, shattering it into a million irreparable pieces.

In that haunting moment, the room echoed with an eerie silence, broken only by the heavy gasps of shock and disbelief. Rick's mind raced, his thoughts a jumble of grief, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of loss. The world around him seemed to fade into a blur as the reality of the situation settled upon his shoulders like an immeasurable burden. Rick couldn’t breath, or was he breathing too heavily? He didn’t know. 

Tears welled up in his eyes as he let out a heart-wrenching cry, the anguish of the moment piercing through the silence. Every fiber of his being trembled, consumed by an overwhelming sense of loss and despair. Collapsing to his knees, Rick's body shook uncontrollably, his anguish sobs echoed through the empty space. He felt as though the weight of the world had been thrust upon his shoulders, the weight of his friend's demise pressing down on him with crushing force. In the midst of the darkness, the shattered fragments of their shared dreams lay scattered, a painful reminder of the future that would never come to fruition.

Desperation engulfed Rick as he clutched his head, his fingers tangling in his hair, as if trying to physically grasp hold of some semblance of sanity. His cries grew louder, reverberating off the walls, as the weight of guilt bore down upon him. It felt as though he had failed Jason, that his presence had only brought suffering and pain. The realisation that Jason had departed this world carrying hatred for him cut deep, tearing at his already fragile heart.

In his state of torment, Rick's mind spun in a whirlwind of self-blame and remorse. He couldn't bear the weight of his own existence, consumed by the belief that he had somehow caused this. That this was his fault. His words spilled out incoherently, mixing with his sobs, as he grappled with the devastating truth that Jason's last moments were overshadowed by resentment towards him. Pure hatred at his existence. 

Diane had rushed out, driven by the urgency to seek help in the face of Jason’s body. Upon her return, she was greeted by a heart-wrenching scene. Tears welled up in her eyes once more as she witnessed Rick, curled on the floor, his nails digging into his skull, trapped in a relentless cycle of screaming, sobbing, and self-condemnation. Her heart ached for him as she realised the depth of his pain and the burden he carried, believing himself to be solely responsible.

With tears streaming down her face, Diane approached Rick, her voice trembling with sorrow as she spoke words of comfort and solace. She held him tightly, her touch offering a modicum of support amidst the shattering grief. At that moment, they clung to each other. Rick's screams continued to pierced through the air, a raw expression of anguish and despair. Each cry carried with it the weight of his shattered heart, as he unleashed his pain onto the cruel and unfair world. 

Rick felt the weight of life's injustices pressing down upon him. Leaving him feeling small and insignificant in the face of an indifferent universe. His voice grew hoarse from the intensity of his cries, and yet he still sobbed and screamed. With each scream, Rick defied the unfairness that had befallen his friend, his words reaching out to the cosmos, demanding answers that would never come. He yearned for solace, for some semblance of justice in a world that seemed intent on inflicting pain. Yet, the universe remained silent, offering no consolation, no respite from the unbearable weight of his grief.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Diane

Age: 23

Rick stumbled clumsily, his arms burdened with a multitude of paper bags filled with groceries and scrap metal, precariously balanced in one hand. The weight tugged at his weary muscles, testing his ability to maintain equilibrium. His other hand fumbled within the confines of his pockets, desperately seeking his keys amidst the chaos. After a moment of searching, a glimmer of success flashed across Rick's face as his fingers closed around the familiar shape of his keychain. With a triumphant sigh, he extricated the keys from his pocket, revealing a rocket-shaped keychain dangling from the keyring. Its presence provided a small spark of familiarity and comfort amidst the mundane task of unlocking the door.

As Rick inserted the key into the lock and turned it, the door creaked open, granting him entry into the quiet and stillness of his surroundings. The familiarity of the scene washed over him, tugging at the corners of his memory. A pang of recognition settled in his chest, as if he were revisiting a moment from the past.

Rick's mind travelled back to his childhood, as memories of a little boy with wavy blue hair and a cautious demeanour flooded his thoughts. The scene unfolded vividly before his eyes, depicting a home that was seldom silent. Discord and tension were the usual inhabitants, whether it was the sound of arguments, fights, or his father's harsh words directed at him for reasons beyond his control. But on this particular day, as Rick stepped into the house, a profound silence greeted him. It was an unusual stillness, an absence of the usual chaos that permeated the air. While standing at the entrance Rick recalls Jason saying ‘i’m home’ whenever he comes home, warm embraces and cheerful welcomes that always followed to envelop his friend.

“I’m home,” Rick whispers somewhat hopefully. Yet, the silence persisted, refusing to yield to his longing. Disappointment washed over him, a realisation that the familiar embrace of home had dissipated into thin air. The weight of solitude settled upon his young shoulders, leaving him to navigate the emptiness that permeated the space around him.

Years later, the memories shifted, and Rick found himself walking wearily back from a practical lab class. Fatigue seeped into his bones, as he trudged up the stairs towards his dorm room. The door swung open, and he was greeted by a serene silence that wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. In that moment, Rick's eyes fell upon the sight of Jason, diligently working at his desk, engrossed in a sheet of paper. Diane, with her book in hand, sat quietly on one of the beds. A warmth blossomed within Rick's chest, an unfamiliar sensation that tugged at his heartstrings. He stood frozen at the threshold, unable to comprehend the depth of the emotions welling up within him.

Jason, sensing Rick's presence, turned towards him and broke into a gentle smile. "Welcome home," he uttered, his voice laced with genuine affection. Diane, without looking up from her book, echoed the sentiment with a smile of her own.

Rick's realisation came crashing down upon him, flooding his being with an overwhelming sense of belonging. For the first time in his life, he understood what it meant to have a chosen family, friends who eagerly awaited his return, who cared deeply about his presence. The words caught in his throat, but eventually, he managed to reply, "I'm home."

Both Jason and Diane beamed with joy, their smiles lighting up the room. Conversations flowed, laughter mingled with comforting words, as Rick moved further into the space. He settled on the plush, comforting floor, surrounded by the warmth of companionship, basking in the realisation that he had found his true home within the hearts of his friends.

Rick's fatigued eyes surveyed the apartment, taking in the familiar sights that brought a sense of comfort and solace. The green couch adorned with a jumble of blankets caught his attention, a testament to cosy evenings spent together. The television stood silent, its screen dark, while the room was bathed in a soft, inviting glow emanating from the dimmed lights above.

Breaking the tranquillity, Rick's voice filled the space as he uttered, "I'm home," the words carrying a hint of weariness but also a glimmer of longing.

“Welcome Home,” In response, a gentle voice resonated from another room, its timbre soothing to his ears. Footsteps echoed through the apartment, drawing nearer, until Diane materialised around a corner, her face adorned with a warm smile. With a graceful stride, she approached Rick, her presence a soothing balm to his tired soul.

With a genuine concern, she offered to lend a helping hand, reaching out to relieve him of the burdensome bags he carried. Rick gratefully surrendered the weight, allowing Diane's assistance to alleviate his weariness. In that simple gesture, he felt the embrace of home, not just a physical space but a place where he was embraced with warmth, care, and understanding. A home he thought he had long lost after Jason’s passing.

Together, Rick and Diane ventured deeper into the apartment, their steps guided by a shared understanding and unspoken synchronisation. As they reached the kitchen, the weight of the groceries they carried began to lift, both physically and metaphorically. In a graceful dance of movement and cooperation, they unloaded the bags, their actions seamlessly complementing each other. With practised ease, they navigated the limited space, deftly passing by one another, their movements fluid and effortless. Rick would hand Diane a box of cereal, and in return, she would offer him a jar of peanut butter. They worked together, attuned to each other's needs, creating an atmosphere of harmony within the kitchen.

Their shared task became more than just a chore; it became a moment of connection, a reminder of the bond they shared. As they placed items on shelves and in cabinets, laughter punctuated their actions, breaking the silence that hung in the air. The clinking of jars and the rustling of plastic bags added a rhythmic melody to their collaborative efforts.

With each item finding its place, the kitchen transformed into a space filled with warmth and familiarity. It was more than just a physical arrangement; it was a reflection of their shared life, their shared experiences, and the deep connection they had cultivated over the past few years. As the final grocery item found its place, Rick and Diane stepped back, their faces beaming with a sense of accomplishment. They surveyed their work, the organised shelves and stocked pantry serving as a testament to their partnership.

In that moment, as they stood side by side, their hands still intertwined in the tapestry of their shared task, Rick and Diane shared a knowing look. It was a look that conveyed gratitude, appreciation, and a profound sense of belonging, The once broken began to heal. The duo learning to live without their third.

Seated in the back of a motionless ambulance, Rick was oblivious to how he had gotten there. Numbness coursed through his veins as his thoughts raced incessantly, consumed by Jason– Jason, Jason. Memories of his infectious smile and warm embraces flooded his mind.  Jason Anderson, his best friend, his brother in all but blood had died hating him. Jason had departed from this world cursing Rick out and blaming him for his suffering. His final words were filled with nothing but bitterness towards Rick. Rick felt utterly useless and feeble, he was supposed to be smart and yet he wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough for Jason to stay. He wasn’t enough of a comfort for him. He wasn’t enough. Guilt and grief bore down upon his shoulders, their weight almost unbearable.

He couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The world seemed to move at its usual pace, oblivious to the immense pain that engulfed him. It was as if everything should have come to a standstill, as if the mere absence of Jason should have frozen time itself. But life carried on, unforgiving in its relentless march forward. People hurried about, their urgent footsteps echoing in Rick's ears, their conversations blending into a blur of noise. News of Jason's passing spread rapidly, like a wildfire consuming every corner of the campus. To them, Jason was just another student, another name to be mourned briefly before fading into memory. But to Rick, he was an irreplaceable part of his life, a beacon of light that illuminated his darkest moments, his shining north star.

In the midst of  it all, Rick felt a profound solitude. Memories of their shared laughter, adventures, and countless conversations flooded his mind, each one a testament to the depth of their bond. The void left by Jason's absence felt immeasurable, a space that could never be filled. Yet, in the midst of his anguish, Rick clung to the essence of Jason's spirit. He refused to let his friend be reduced to a mere memory, forever alive within the recesses of his heart. Every thought, every decision, carried the weight of Jason's influence, a constant reminder of the impact he had on Rick's life. A sob tore through his throat, slowly Rick came back to the present, the numbness faded and gave way to the grief. 

Rick looked over at the blonde woman holding his hand. Tears in her eyes and whispering assurances, Diane let out a muffled sob as she spoke, “it wasn’t your fault, Rick, it’s going to be ok,” Diane continued to comfort him as the weight of the world bore down on the two of them. 

Rick squeezed Diane's hand tightly, drawing strength from her presence amidst the overwhelming sorrow. Her words echoed in his ears, but the guilt within him remained stubborn, refusing to be silenced. It clawed at his heart, taunting him with what-ifs and regrets. But Diane's unwavering support provided a lifeline in the midst of the storm. Her touch, her voice, served as a reminder that he was not alone, that there were others who shared in the pain of losing Jason.

In that moment, Rick allowed himself to lean on Diane, to find solace in her embrace. The weight of the world felt a little lighter, if only for a fleeting moment. Their tears mingled, a bittersweet symphony of shared anguish, as they navigated the depths of their sorrow together. And as Diane held him, offering her unwavering support, Rick began to believe, if only for a brief respite, that maybe, just maybe, there was a glimmer of hope beyond the darkness. 

Soon the kitchen was filled with laughter as they exchanged playful banter, The wounds of the past had gradually healed, leaving behind scars that bore witness to their shared journey of loss and healing.

"Remember when Jason used to prank us with those silly tricks?" Diane chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Rick smirked, leaning back on the bench. "Oh, how could I forget? That boy had a knack for pulling off the most elaborate pranks. We were always his favourite targets."

"He definitely had a twisted sense of humour," Diane added, shaking her head with a fond smile. "But we always found a way to get back at him, didn't we?"

Rick nodded, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "Oh, we definitely did. Remember that time we went to his house and filled his room with balloons? He couldn't even get through the door!"

Diane burst into laughter, a sound that brought warmth to Rick's heart. They reminisce about the countless shared memories, each story weaving a tapestry of friendship and resilience. Despite the lingering ache of Jason's absence, they had managed to find solace in each other's company.

In the hazy aftermath of Jason's death, the days melded together in a blur for Rick. He found himself snapping at everyone, including Diane, though he wasn't proud of it. A jumble of emotions overwhelmed him, as if his entire being was held together by fragile strands of duct tape and super glue, on the verge of being swept away by the slightest gust of wind. Remaining at the university became increasingly difficult, but Diane's unwavering support was the sole reason he had stayed as long as he did.

Driven by his intelligence, Rick discovered ways to earn money automatically through online buying, selling, and investments. One day, as he looked at Diane, he uttered the words, "I want to leave."

Diane accepted his declaration with unwavering composure, swiftly packing her belongings to join Rick on his journey. They embarked on days of travel in Jason's old car, camping along the way, until they finally found an apartment where they chose to stay together. Rick felt an immense gratitude that Diane had suggested staying together, for the mere thought of her leaving too was unbearable to him.

While driving, the car that once held joyful memories now carried the weight of their loss. Diane spoke solemnly, breaking the silence, "Let's get an apartment together."

Rick attempted to voice his concerns, "You don't have to, Diane. I know I can be too much sometimes--"

Interrupting him, Diane asserted, "You're not, Rick. You're not too much."

Rick's insecurities surfaced as he expressed his fear, "But eventually, you'll leave too, Diane. You'll leave, hating me and everything I am."

With conviction in her voice and her eyes fixed on the road ahead, Diane reassured him, "I won't."

“You will, just like everyone else, even Jason,” Rick said as he fell asleep, fatigue finally catching up to him.

“I won’t,” Diane whispered into the air, tears falling from her eyes.

Diane's heart ached at Rick's words, but she remained steadfast in her commitment to him. She knew the weight he carried, the burden of guilt and self-doubt that threatened to consume him. As they continued their journey, the road ahead seemed uncertain, yet she was determined to prove to Rick that she wouldn't abandon him.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as they travelled together, seeking solace and a fresh start. They found moments of respite in nature's embrace, camping under starlit skies and finding solace in the simplicity of their shared existence. The bond between them grew stronger, built upon a foundation of trust and understanding.

Eventually, they arrived at a new city, where they set out to find an apartment. As they settled into their new home, the walls held the whispers of both sorrow and hope. Rick couldn't shake the fear of losing Diane, but she remained steadfast, her presence a constant source of strength.

In the quiet moments of the night, when their thoughts became heavy, Diane would reassure Rick of her unwavering support. She would hold him close, her touch a soothing balm to his wounded soul.

"I'm not going anywhere, Rick," she would whisper, her voice filled with love and determination. "We're in this together, through thick and thin. I believe in you, and I believe in us."

With each passing day, Rick began to see glimpses of light through the cracks of his pain. Diane's unwavering presence and love slowly mended the shattered pieces of his heart. Together, they created a sanctuary within their apartment, a space where healing could take place, and where they could rebuild their lives.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the kitchen, Diane turned to Rick, a softness in her gaze. "You know, we've come a long way, haven't we?"

Rick nodded, His expression filled with gratitude. "Yea," A moment later, “Thank you Diane, for staying,”

Diane smiled, his voice tinged with emotion. "I’d stay even if you didn’t want me too Rick, I’m not going anywhere, We’ll live, and grow old, together,” 

Rick looked at Diane, and tried to mask his trembling voice with sarcasm “promise?” 

Diane reached over to Rick and grabbed his hand, “Promise,”

They sat in comfortable silence, their hearts intertwined with memories of the past. The apartment became a haven, a place where the weight of loss could momentarily be set aside, replaced by the enduring love and camaraderie that had blossomed from the ashes of tragedy. Rick knew Diane will always be there, even after seeing his worst she stayed. 

Rick found himself sitting on the darkened floor of the apartment, engulfed in a heavy cloud of self-hatred and guilt. The scent of alcohol permeated the air, a reflection of the turmoil within him. It marked one year since Jason's passing, intensifying Rick's inner torment. In that moment, he felt utterly worthless and devoid of purpose. His self-hatred surpassed all else, consuming him entirely, Rick hated himself. As he spiralled, Rick's gaze fell upon a bottle of liquor, and without thinking, he opened it and began to consume its contents. Only belatedly did he realise the wrongness of his actions. It was the first time Rick had ever properly drank alcohol, finding solace in its burn as his mind drifted into a haze.

Returning home from work that day, Diane discovered Rick slumped on the kitchen floor, his head hanging low, clutching the bottle of alcohol. Familiar white coat around his shoulders. She despised having to leave him earlier, seeking a temporary escape herself. Yet, guilt gnawed at her as she realised that Rick couldn't distract himself from his inner turmoil. Approaching him gently, she knelt down and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, calling his name. Her hesitation was palpable.

"Diane! You're back!" Rick exclaimed sluggishly, his words slurred from the alcohol.

"Of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Diane responded, her concern evident.

"Be-because it's my fault Jason is dead. He hated me and took his own life to escape from me, you should hate me" Rick stuttered, the weight of guilt evident in his voice.

Diane attempted to console him, but her words were interrupted.

"You should leave too, Diane. Being with me will only bring you misery," Rick slurred, his voice laced with anger.

"I'm staying," Diane asserted firmly, refusing to yield.

"I want you gone, now leave," Rick's voice rose in anger.

"You're drunk, and I'm not leaving. You can lash out at me all you want," Diane replied calmly, her determination unwavering.

"Fuck you," Rick paused, his tone suddenly shifting to a small, childlike plea. "Don't leave."

"Of course," Diane reassured him. "Let's get you to bed, and next time, I'll dispose of all the alcohol."

The following morning, Rick settled onto the soft green cotton couch, wrapping himself in one of the blankets strewn across it. The dawn light streamed through the windows, casting a gentle glow in the room. With hesitation, Rick switched on the Nintendo system and took hold of a controller, propping his feet up on the table. His heart ached as he noticed Jason's profile still present on the console. Swiftly, he selected his own profile and randomly started a game. Diane entered the living room and settled beside Rick, quietly observing him play.

"Two years," Diane spoke softly, breaking the silence.

Rick simply nodded in response, his focus remaining on the game. The weight of loss hung heavily in the air, permeating their surroundings. The room slowly filled with giggles and banter, as Rick kept losing at the levels and Diane insisting she can do better. That’s how the day went.

Rick and Diane sat in the living room, a playful energy filling the air. Rick had finally put down the game controller, ready to engage in some lighthearted banter with Diane.

Rick smirked mischievously. "You know, Diane, they say sarcasm is a sign of intelligence. No wonder I'm so brilliant."

Diane raised an eyebrow, a twinkle in her eyes. "Oh, is that what they say? I must be a genius then, given how often I catch your sarcasm."

Rick chuckled. "Touché, my dear. But remember, wit like mine is hard to keep up with."

Diane leaned in, a sly grin on her face. "Oh, trust me, Rick, I have a sharp tongue too. I can throw it right back at you."

Rick feigned surprise. "Oh, so you think you can match my sass? Challenge accepted."

Diane playfully nudged him. "Bring it on, Rick. Everyone knows I can take you on any day, Isn’t that right Jason,"

Rick leaned back, crossing his arms. "That’s not true, Jason tell her it isn’t,” 

Rick and Diane both looked over at the empty seat in the room, expecting to see their friend. Their smirks faded, replaced by a hint of wistfulness as they acknowledged the absence of their dear friend. Disappointment lingered in the air, a reminder of the void that Jason's departure had left behind. Yet, they couldn't help but find solace in the shared moments they had experienced together.

Rick's laughter, though hesitant at first, grew more genuine, and Diane's chuckles joined in. They found comfort in reminiscing about the "what if's" and imagining Jason's mischievous presence in their banter.

Diane rose from the couch, determined to lift the mood. She made her way to the kitchen and returned with a box of frozen pizza, placing it on the coffee table in the living room. Rick, in turn, selected a movie to play, filling the room with the anticipation of shared entertainment.

As the movie started, the laughter resumed, filling the space and momentarily pushing aside the weight of their loss. Rick and Diane found comfort in each other's company, cherishing the memories of their friend while embracing the present moment. Their laughter echoed, and as the movie played on, Rick instinctively reached out to Diane, gently intertwining their fingers. The simple act of holding hands brought a sense of soothing and reassurance, a silent connection between two souls who understood each other's pain.

The night continued to unfold, and as the movie came to an end, Rick leaned his head back against the couch, feeling the weight of the day finally catch up with him. Diane rested her head on his shoulder, seeking warmth, shutting her eyes. Their hands remained intertwined beneath the soft, fluffy blanket that enveloped them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Family

Age: 24

On February 29th, 1985, Rick Sanchez stood in the kitchen, his own creation of an electric-powered stove humming softly, he had created it when Diane, with an adorable look of frustration on her face, complained about the rising gas prices. The kitchen is a cosy and inviting space, adorned with light-coloured wooden cabinets that exuded a rustic charm. The countertops, made of oak wood, providing a smooth surface for food preparation. Sunlight poured in through the large windows, casting vibrant hues across the tiled floor, while sheer curtains gently swayed in the breeze coming through the windows. The stove's sleek design seamlessly blended into the kitchen, its steel surface gleaming under the sun's golden rays.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the tantalising scent of the breakfast. On the stove, a non-stick ceramic pan moved back and forth as Rick expertly cooked scrambled eggs. The eggs were a vibrant medley of yellow and white, their fluffy texture beginning to take shape as Rick gently stirred them. The rich aroma of the eggs filled the kitchen, eliciting a mouthwatering anticipation. Rick remembered the first time he had cooked food for himself, his desperation for something to eat after days of nothing. He remembered being as clumsy as ever, stumbling all over the place and dropping a multitude of eggs. Rick winced as he recalled how many times he burned himself on accident, and how his mother only sighed and looked disappointed when she had finally returned from her trip.

Next to the pan, sausages sizzled on a separate burner. They crackled and released a savoury fragrance of well-seasoned meat wafting through the air. The sausages, perfectly browned, glistened with juices, promising a satisfying and flavorful bite. The kitchen was adorned with small decorative touches that reflected Rick and Diane's personalities. A quirky apron hung on a hook, featuring a vibrant pattern that hinted at Rick's love for science and eccentricity. A small potted herb garden sat on the windowsill, adding a touch of freshness and earthiness to the ambiance.

As Rick worked, he couldn't help but hum a familiar tune, one that suspiciously resembled the theme song of Mario, a beloved video game character.

Diane leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she recognized the melody. "You do realise, Rick, that you're humming the theme song of a plumber while cooking breakfast?"

Rick chuckled, flipping the sausages with a flourish. "Well, what can I say? Mario's got good taste in tunes, and I've got good taste in breakfast."

They both shared a laugh, revelling in the lightness of the moment and the joy that had slowly returned to their lives. Simple moments like cooking breakfast together brought a sense of contentment, it never failed to bring warmth into Rick. 

Rick swiftly placed the plates of breakfast onto the counter, the enticing aroma filling the air as he shut off the stove with a deft motion. The pans clinked as he placed them into the sink, knowing he would return to clean them later. With the meal prepared and ready, he took a seat across from Diane, observing with amusement as she eagerly dug into her food.

"Slow down, Diane," Rick chuckled, his gaze fixed on her.

Diane glanced up briefly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Can't, I'm going to be late for work," she replied between mouthfuls. Diane worked as a consultant for a tech company.

As Diane finished her meal, she swiftly rose from her seat, placing her plate into the sink and grabbing her bag. She leaned over and kissed Rick on the cheek, her warm affection evident in the gesture. "See you soon, love," she said softly, her voice tinged with both love and adoration.

As she reached the door, Diane hesitated, her hand resting on the doorknob. She turned back to face Rick, a hint of worry etched on her features. "You going to be okay, Rick?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine care.

Rick's smile remained, a reassuring expression on his face. "Yeah," he replied, his voice laced with sincerity. He watched as Diane's worried expression transformed into a gentle smile, reassured by his words. With a nod, she walked out the door, leaving Rick alone in the kitchen.

As the sound of the door closing resonated through the room, Rick remained seated at the kitchen table, his thoughts accompanied by a sense of optimism on the day ahead. He couldn’t believe how he had someone as amazing as Diane with him, and the love and butterflies that filled him whenever he saw her, it always left him speechless. 

With a sense of purpose, Rick swiftly stood up from the table and made his way to the sink. The sound of running water filled the kitchen as he began washing the dishes, his movements efficient and focused. The warm water cascaded over the plates and utensils, carrying away the remnants of their shared meal. As Rick scrubbed away, his mind wandered, thoughts drifting between the task at hand, reflections on the past few weeks and that new video game he had gotten. The clinking of dishes and the gentle swish of the sponge created a soothing rhythm, almost like a meditative chant.

Washing the dishes became more than just a chore for Rick. It became a chance to gather his thoughts and find a sense of calm amidst the daily chaos. The warmth of the water enveloped his hands, grounding him in the present moment.

As he rinsed off the last of the suds and placed the clean dishes onto the drying rack, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. The kitchen was now tidy, the remnants of their breakfast a mere memory. Rick took a moment to appreciate the clean and organised space, a reflection of the love and care he put into every aspect of their lives.

With the dishes taken care of, Rick dried his hands on a nearby towel and glanced around the kitchen making sure everything was in place. He could feel the itching loneliness slowly crawling up his spine. Rick took a deep breath and with a determined spirit, Rick left the kitchen behind, walking towards the garage door. Gently opening it. 

The garage is a relatively spacious and cluttered area, serving as Rick's personal laboratory and workshop. It has a dimly lit atmosphere, with various shelves, workbenches, and tables filled with scientific equipment, tools, and numerous strange and intricate gadgets. Although It seemed like a chaotic and haphazard space, Rick would say that it was rather organised. 

The walls of the garage are covered in posters, diagrams, and scribbled notes, showcasing Rick's many blueprints and theories. There are also shelves lined with jars and beakers containing questionable substances all varying in colours, and unidentified inventions looking half finished. The cabinets were lazily labelled and filled with odd nick nacks. 

As Rick looked around the garage, his eyes were immediately drawn to the prominent feature occupying the corner of the room. The large cylindrical machine stood tall, its intricate network of tubes and wires extending from its metallic frame. This was one of Rick's prized creations, a powerful energy generator that fueled his inventions, and the house. The machine hummed with activity, a testament to its constant production of kinetic energy, which was seamlessly converted into electrical energy. Rick's ingenuity and expertise had transformed the basic principles of electromagnetic induction, as outlined in Faraday's Law, into a highly efficient and refined system.

Within the machine resided two large magnets and a solenoid coil, working in perfect harmony. The magnets oscillated in a perpetual motion, moving in and out of the solenoid, effectively disrupting its magnetic field. This disruption generated a continuous flow of electromagnetic force (EMF), which was then harnessed and transformed into usable electrical energy.

Rick's modifications and optimizations had made the system remarkably efficient, maximising the output of electrical power while minimising energy loss. It was a testament to his relentless pursuit of innovation and his unwavering dedication to pushing the boundaries of scientific exploration. It made his life so much easier by fueling his inventions whenever he needed. Although Diane had only praised its ability to charge her phone quickly. 

As Rick stood before his creation, a sense of pride and excitement washed over him. With a satisfied smile, Rick briefly inspected the machine, ensuring that all the components were functioning as intended. The rhythmic humming and gentle vibrations of the device provided a soothing soundtrack to his thoughts, fueling his imagination and sparking new ideas.

Leaving the machine to continue its steady production of energy, Rick's mind brimmed with excitement for future projects and innovations, the sense of loneliness he had felt before gone completely. Quickly seated on a stool in his garage, Rick scanned his cluttered desk, pushing aside scattered scrap metal and loose screws to clear a space for his work. His gaze settled on a complex equations paper pinned to his pin board..

With a determined focus, Rick reached for the paper, his fingers tracing the lines of mathematical symbols and equations. The formulas danced before his eyes, a symphony of numbers and variables waiting to be deciphered. As he delved into the calculations, his mind absorbed in the intricate web of scientific principles, he began to unravel the mysteries hidden within.

Intermittently, Rick would reach for a set of carefully labelled test tubes, each containing a different chemical compound. He knew well that some of these substances fell into the realm of the forbidden, obtained through dubious means or acquired through underground channels. Yet, driven by his insatiable curiosity and his relentless pursuit of knowledge, he couldn't resist the allure of pushing the boundaries of scientific exploration.

With a steady hand, Rick carefully measured and mixed the chemicals, combining them in calculated ratios. He observed closely, eagerly awaiting the reactions that would unfold before him, maybe discovering a new compound or element. Sometimes the experiments yielded unexpected results, explosive or mesmerising displays of chemical interactions. Other times, his hypotheses were proven wrong, prompting him to adjust his equations and try again. The garage buzzed with the energy of experimentation, the air heavy with the scent of chemicals and the palpable excitement of discovery. Rick's mind was filled by questions, the need for answers fueled his determination, even in the face of setbacks and failures. He knew that true innovation often emerged from a series of trial and error, from the willingness to question, experiment, and learn from every outcome.

As Rick continued his work, time seemed to blur around him. Hours turned into minutes, and minutes into moments of pure concentration and inspiration. The cluttered desk and scattered tools around him were mere extensions of his mind, the unyielding drive to uncover the secrets of the universe. In this makeshift laboratory, Rick found solace and purpose, a space where his imagination soared and his intellect thrived. It was a sanctuary for his unbridled creativity and a testament to his unorthodox methods of scientific exploration.

As the day wore on and the sun began its descent, the dusk air flowing into the garage, Rick remained immersed in his work. With each failed experiment, he grew more determined to refine his equation. Lost in his work, Rick scarcely noticed the front door swing open, signalling Diane's return home.

"RICK!" Diane's voice pierced through, startling Rick as he redirected his attention toward the entrance of the garage. However, her exclamation didn't convey distress; rather, it overflowed with enthusiasm. "I'm home," she added, her tone brimming with excitement.

Rick carefully set aside his tasks and ventured into the house, following the sound of Diane's voice that emanated from the living room. "Diane?" he called out tentatively.

There stood Diane, her blonde hair slightly dishevelled but a wide grin adorning her face. Her brown eyes sparkled with joy, her tie askew, and her once pristine white button-up shirt now wrinkled. "Guess what?" she exclaimed.

Approaching her, Rick tenderly embraced her waist, planting a loving kiss on her lips. "Welcome home," he uttered, gazing down at her with a heart brimming with affection. "You seem incredibly excited."

"Rick," Diane began, her voice filled with warmth, her hands resting on his shoulders, "I'm pregnant." A soft smile graced her face. "I'm going to be a mother," she shared, radiating happiness.

"I'm going to be a father," Rick responded, still engulfed in a state of disbelief.

"A mother," Diane reiterated.

"A father," Rick finally exclaimed, his voice revealing his mounting excitement.

Rick swept Diane off her feet, twirling her around as both of them erupted into laughter. The air pulsated with anticipation and profound love. In that moment, as Rick held Diane in his arms and their laughter filled the room, time seemed to stand still. Rick's heart skipped a beat as Diane's words sank in. The world around him seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a moment of pure joy. He held Diane tightly, their embrace filled with warmth and anticipation.

A rush of emotions surged through Rick's veins, a mixture of exhilaration, awe, and a touch of nervousness. Thoughts raced through his mind, contemplating the profound responsibility that came with bringing a life into the world. Yet, the overwhelming feeling of love and happiness eclipsed any trepidation, filling his being with an unparalleled sense of purpose.

As Rick gently released Diane from their embrace, a beaming smile spread across his face. He cupped her face in his hands, his eyes locked with hers, reflecting the sheer love and excitement that welled up within him. "We're going to be parents," he whispered, his voice laced with a mix of awe and tenderness.

Diane nodded, her own eyes shimmering with uncontained happiness. "We're going to create a life together, Rick," she replied, her voice filled with a gentle determination. "A little person who will be a part of both of us."

Rick couldn't help but admire Diane's radiance, the way her eyes sparkled with a newfound glow. He placed his hands on her belly, feeling the warmth and the faint flutter of life within. A surge of protectiveness washed over him, a fierce desire to nurture and care for the tiny being growing inside.

Together, they stood there in the living room, their hearts entwined, their dreams united. The room seemed to hum with love and anticipation, as if echoing their excitement. It was a moment that would forever be etched in their memories, a turning point that marked the beginning of a remarkable journey.

In that precious moment, the world seemed to shimmer with newfound possibilities, the future brimming with hope and promise. And so, in the midst of their shared laughter and the tender touch of their hands, Rick and Diane shared dreams and aspirations for their child, a lifetime of adventures. Their excitement was contagious, filling the air with an electrifying energy that resonated throughout their home. Rick couldn't fathom the fact that he was going to become a father. While Diane continued to excitedly discuss their future plans with their child, a surge of anxiety engulfed Rick's being, triggered by haunting memories of his own alcoholic and abusive father. Fear gripped his chest, making it increasingly difficult to breathe.

The surroundings seemed to close in on Rick, intensifying his struggle to draw in a breath. Diane ceased her chatter long ago, focusing on soothing Rick and grounding him in the present. Attempting to understand his distress, she whispered softly, desperately trying to anchor him. "Rick, what's troubling you?" Diane feared that Rick might not want the child.

Stammering, Rick managed to express, "My father was an awful person. Wh-what if... What if-," but Diane interrupted him.

Placing a tender hand on his cheek, she gently pressed her forehead against his, softly speaking into his ear, "You are not your father. You are Rick Sanchez, the wittiest, most affectionate, and kindest man in the universe. You have the potential to be the greatest father."

Rick's breaths came in shallow gasps as he struggled to find his footing amidst the rising tide of anxiety. Memories of his father's toxic presence threatened to engulf him, casting a shadow of doubt over his ability to be the father he wanted to be. The weight of past trauma loomed heavy on his shoulders, threatening to overshadow his joy for the future.

Diane's touch was a lifeline, grounding him in the present moment. Her unwavering belief in him broke through the cloud of fear that had enveloped his mind. Her words resonate deeply within his being, reminding him of the many differences between him and his father.

Tears welled up in Rick's eyes as he looked into Diane's eyes, filled with a mix of vulnerability. He took a shaky breath, his voice quivering as he spoke, "But w-what if I’m not, Diane. What if I-I screw up just like my father. I refuse to let myself hurt our child."

“The fact that you care so much for our child already, proves that you’re nothing like him,” Diane spoke softly.

A surge of determination surged through Rick's veins, fueling his resolve. He knew deep down that he had Diane who would always put him on the right path. The love he felt for Diane and the unborn baby surpassed any lingering doubts, and in that moment Rick thought that everything would be alright.

As they stood there, embracing each other tightly, Rick felt a renewed sense of purpose wash over him. He knew that being a father would have its challenges, but he also knew that the love he and Diane shared was powerful enough to overcome any obstacles that lay ahead. Together, they would create a future where their child would grow up surrounded by love, compassion, and the knowledge that they were cherished beyond measure. And in that moment, Rick found solace in knowing that he had Diane’s strength to break the cycle and be the father he had always yearned for.

On the 19th of November 1985, nine months later, Rick Sanchez anxiously paced the sterile, white corridors of the hospital. His face and body language betrayed his worry, and he frequently cast glances towards the door marked A15. It was the room where Diane had gone into labour, and Rick had been ushered out as doctors and nurses hurried in. Diane managed to offer him a trembling smile before the doors closed, leaving Rick in a state of anticipation.

The initial months of the pregnancy had been filled with wonder and excitement as Rick and Diane embarked on shopping sprees for baby essentials and meticulously baby-proofed their home in preparation for their little one's arrival. However, the latter months were far from ideal, marked by Rick's skyrocketing anxiety that led to his overprotective nature towards Diane, his sole focus being to ensure her and the baby's safety.

In an effort to ease Diane's stress, Rick devised numerous inventions for her comfort. However, each well-intentioned creation seemed to bring about more stress for Diane, who simply craved a humble box of chicken wings. Rick went to extreme lengths, driving across the continent to fulfil her desire, only to discover upon his return that she had developed a different craving. To resolve this ever-changing dilemma, Rick created an algorithm that attempted to predict Diane's next craving with an impressive 94.6% accuracy, ensuring that the exact food would be ordered and delivered to their doorstep. Of course, there were occasions when the algorithm missed the mark, and Rick preferred to forget about those mishaps.

As a couple, they had chosen to keep the gender of their child a surprise, opting not to find out in advance. However, they had selected names for both a girl and a boy, eager to welcome their little one into the world with open arms.

Rick remembered how the day went. The moonlight entered the room as the pair sat in the living room.

"What should we name our little one?" Diane tenderly inquired, her hand caressing her growing belly, she was covered in blankets and in pyjamas.

Rick, engrossed in his work on the algorithm, paused for a moment, contemplating her question. "I'm not sure," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

Diane, her voice trembling, suggested, "How about Jason if it's a boy?" Rick's fingers froze on the keyboard at the mention of his long-lost best friend.

Silence enveloped the room, stretching out for a few fleeting moments before Rick managed to respond with a shaky voice, "Yes, that would be nice."

A gentle smile graced Diane's face as she observed Rick engrossed in his work, a soft expression playing across his features. Rick, still caught up in his thoughts, continued, "And if it's a girl, Elizabeth."

Diane's voice carried a tenderness as she asked, "After your teacher? The one who was like a mother to you?"

Rick looked up at Diane, meeting her gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Yes, if that's alright with you?"

Diane's smile widened, radiating warmth. "Yes, that's perfect, Elizabeth Sanchez, or Jason Sanchez" she affirmed, their shared understanding and connection affirming their choice of names.

Without much delay, the sound of the room door swinging open reached Rick's ears, followed by the unmistakable cries of their newborn. The doctor, attempting to speak, was immediately disregarded as Rick swiftly entered the room, his focus fixed on Diane. She was there, sweat glistening on her forehead, tears streaming down her face, cradling their precious bundle of joy. A smile blossomed across Diane's features as she spotted Rick rushing towards her, their love and elation intertwining in that moment.

Rick enveloped Diane in a gentle embrace, his heart overflowing with overwhelming emotions. Crouching down beside her, he couldn't help but marvel at their little one, so delicate and small. Trembling with tenderness, Rick extended a shaking hand towards their child. The infant, sensing her father's touch, began to calm, gripping onto Rick's finger with a surprising strength.

"It seems like Elizabeth knows that dad's here," Diane chuckled, her voice laced with joy and contentment.

Rick could only nod in response, a profound ache of love swelling within his chest. The intensity of his emotions overwhelmed him, leaving him speechless. He couldn't comprehend how a single human being could inspire such an all-encompassing love. It was a love that penetrated deep within his soul, evoking tears and an overwhelming sensation of his heart ready to burst with joy.

In that moment, Rick understood with unwavering clarity that he would stop at nothing for their precious child. The love and happiness they found in their daughter, Elizabeth, fueled a fierce determination within him. He would move the heavens and Earth, traverse any obstacles, and shield her from harm at any cost. Rick's devotion knew no bounds, and he would gladly pluck the stars from the sky if that's what his beloved daughter desired.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Father and Daughter

Age: 24

As Rick slowly stirred from his slumber, his senses gradually awakened to the gentle symphony of soft giggles and baby babble resonating from the nearby baby monitor on the bedside table. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a warm sensation spreading through his chest at the delightful sounds.

Snuggled beneath the cosy sheets, Rick became aware that the bed was unoccupied, realising that Diane must have already risen to tend to their daughter, Beth. He nestled deeper into the warmth of the bed, content in the knowledge that his family was just a few steps away. Rick's mind slowly emerged from its foggy haze as he heard Diane's voice calling out to him from the bathroom. Her endearing words brought a smile to his face, despite his grogginess.

"Rick Darling, could you bring Beth to me? It seems both Father and Daughter decided to sleep in today, huh?" Diane's gentle laughter filled the air as she worked on her hair.

Rick blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes, as he sat up in bed. The sheets cascaded off his torso, revealing the familiar surroundings of their shared bedroom. His mind gradually caught up with his body, memories of the night flooding back to him.

"What time is it?" Rick asked, his voice still laced with drowsiness.

"Hmm, it's around 12 in the afternoon," Diane responded, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

As Rick's gaze wandered around the room, he pieced together the events of the previous night, his smile slowly dimming.

Rick's anxiety surged to new heights, overtaking him completely. Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to calm himself amidst the relentless cries of his 2-year-old daughter, Beth. Rocking her gently and whispering soothing words, Rick tried everything in his power to alleviate her distress. Yet, his efforts seemed in vain as Beth's cries reverberated through the house, a painful reminder of his own helplessness.

His trembling hands tightly gripped his phone, attempting to reach Diane, who had been away on a two-day work trip. Rick had already contacted her when Beth's fever initially emerged, and together they had managed to alleviate it temporarily. However, as the hours passed, her fever had stubbornly persisted, intensifying Rick's panic to an overwhelming degree.

Diane was supposed to have returned two hours ago, but it was now 4am, and Rick felt a deepening sense of desperation. Holding Beth closer, seeking solace in their embrace, Rick's heart ached with the weight of his daughter's pain. Every attempt to alleviate her discomfort, from administering medication to placing a cool cloth on her forehead, yielded no respite. The depths of his knowledge and the information he had gathered online proved futile in the face of Beth's escalating suffering.

In this moment of anguish, Rick found himself grappling with a profound sense of helplessness and inadequacy. He longed for Diane's presence, her comforting touch and reassurance. Rick's brilliant mind, typically a source of ingenuity and problem-solving, seemed powerless in the face of his daughter's distress.

Finally, Diane answered the phone, and Rick's words spilled out in a hurried, stammering manner, making it challenging for her to grasp his message. "D-Diane, help! I-I don't know what to do. Beth won't stop crying, and her fever won't subside, a-a-and..." Rick's voice trembled with anxiety.

"Rick, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths. Inhale for 3 and exhale for 4," Diane's voice held a soothing tone, trying to ease Rick's anxiety.  "Good job. Have you tried feeding her? Perhaps give her some of the baby medication you created. It always worked in the past."

Diane's calming presence on the other end of the line steadied him, guiding him through deep breaths to regain control. With Diane's reassurance, Rick managed to find a momentary calm amidst the chaos. "I've tried that, but her fever isn’t going down. Shhh, it's okay, Beth," Rick attempts to soothe Beth, while sharing his frustration that her fever remained stubbornly high.

"Maybe she needs sleep? Try playing some white noise in the background. I'll be home in about 2 hours," Diane suggested. Rick's heartache was evident as he continued to comfort Beth, while listening to Diane.  Diane knew Rick was always unable to find solutions to problems properly while under stress especially if it had to do with their daughter.

Rick nodded, then realised Diane couldn't see him and replied, "Yea, okay. I'll take her to the garage. The generator always helps her fall asleep."

"That's a good idea. Call me if you need anything else, Rick," Diane assured him. "Beth will be fine. Remember what the doctor said about the vaccines she received. It's common for her to get sick, and there's no need to worry."

"I know, but... I can't stand seeing Beth cry and suffer. It makes me feel..." Rick's voice trailed off, interrupted by Diane.

"I understand, Rick. Everything will be alright," Diane empathised, aware of Rick's aversion to witnessing their daughter in distress or pain. Even during the times they had to use the Ferber method, Rick struggled, constantly attempting to sneak into Beth's nursery and provide comfort. He even created a miniature robot resembling both him and Diane as a source of solace for Beth.

As Diane entered the house and called out for Rick, she received no immediate response. Concerned, she made her way towards the garage, where she discovered a heartwarming scene before her. Rick was lying on the old couch, flat on his back, with a tiny Beth nestled on his chest, her blond hair tousled and her thumb in her mouth. Both father and daughter were fast asleep, worn out from the exhausting night.

Diane couldn't help but smile at the sight, her heart swelling with love for her family. She approached them quietly, careful not to disturb their peaceful slumber. Gently, she reached out and took hold of Beth, lifting her from Rick's chest. The sudden movement caused Rick to stir awake, his eyes flickering open in a panic before Diane's reassuring touch and voice calmed him.

"You did good, Rick," Diane whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. She leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, expressing her appreciation for his efforts. Together, they walked back to the bedroom, supporting each other.

Rick collapsed onto the bed, instantly succumbing to exhaustion. He found solace in the knowledge that Beth would be alright now that Diane was home. He felt a sense of relief wash over him.

A jolt of alertness coursed through Rick as he recalled Beth's high fever. Sensing his unease, Diane quickly reassured him, "Beth is fine. Her fever was completely gone this morning."

Rick's heart found solace in her words, but his concern lingered, propelling him out of bed. In his groggy state, he stumbled over his own feet, determined to make his way to the nursery. Rick gently pushed open the door to the nursery, soft pastel hues adorned the walls, creating a soothing ambiance. The room was filled with an array of cuddly stuffed animals, neatly arranged on a shelf, their plush forms seeming to exude comfort.

In one corner of the nursery, a crib stood, adorned with a canopy of sheer fabric, casting a gentle filter of light over the sleeping area. A mobile hung above, showcasing a captivating display of handcrafted, delicate planets, a testament to Rick's meticulous artistry.

Alongside the crib, a small bookshelf displayed an assortment of children's books, their colourful covers ware a pop of colour to the room. Rick had taken the time to build a miniature book-reading robot, affectionately named "bob," after Beth's suggestion, it sat on the shelf, ready to engage in interactive reading sessions with Beth.

Nearby, a whimsical mural adorned one of the walls, depicting a captivating scene of animals in a lush forest. Rick and Diane had skillfully painted it, making it a captivating backdrop for Beth's room. In a corner, Rick's inventive spirit shone through in the form of a playful toy chest. With a touch-sensitive mechanism, it would transform into a mini-playground, complete with slides, swings, and even a tiny climbing wall. Rick had poured his ingenuity into crafting this multifunctional creation, aiming to provide endless entertainment for his daughter. He made sure the contraption was 100% safe by adding cushions and such on the bottom. 

On a small desk nestled against the wall, Rick's tinkering tools and sketches were scattered, evidence of his ongoing projects. From robotic toys to interactive educational devices, he had tirelessly worked to infuse the nursery with his inventive creations, all designed to stimulate Beth's curiosity and learning.

Rick's smile widened as he turned his gaze towards the crib, where Beth gleefully bounced on her tiptoes, her tiny hands clutching the crib's edge. The room filled with the infectious sound of her giggles, accompanied by her sweet request, "Dah, up up," as she yearned to be lifted.

Rick couldn't resist her joyful plea. He approached the crib, gently gripping Beth under her arms, and carefully lifting her up, cradling her small body against his chest. "Hello, little one," he greeted her, his voice overflowing with tenderness. "How are you feeling today?"

As he held her close, Rick's concerned eyes shifted to check on her fever. To his relief, it seemed to have subsided. The warmth of her skin was no longer elevated, a sign that her health was improving. A sense of comfort washed over him, knowing that his daughter was on the path to recovery.

Beth responded with a wide smile, her eyes reflecting her growing strength. She babbled happily, her words a charming blend of baby talk. "Gud," Beth replied with a gleeful expression. "Whar mama?" she asked, her innocent eyes fixed on Rick.

"Let's go find her, shall we?" Rick responded, his voice filled with affection and playfulness. He carefully carried Beth in his arms, he held her close, and swiftly exited the nursery.

Making their way through the hallway, Beth's contagious giggles filled the air, intertwining with Rick's soft chuckles. As they approached the living room, the sound of Diane's movements reached their ears. Rick knew she was getting ready to leave for work, probably late already.

Exiting the hallway, they entered the living room, where Diane stood, juggling a few items while attempting to prepare herself. A smile spread across Rick's face as he saw his wife's graceful determination, even amidst the morning chaos. 

Beth's eyes sparkled with delight as she caught sight of her mother. "Mama!" she exclaimed, her tiny voice filled with joy.

Diane turned towards them, a mixture of surprise and warmth in her expression. "There are my two favourite people," she greeted them, a twinkle in her eyes.  Diane's eyes twinkled with amusement as she took in the sight of Rick and Beth, both clad in matching pyjamas. Rick's vibrant blue hair stood in disarray, sticking up in all directions, while his rumpled clothes and the shirt slipping off his shoulder added to his slightly dishevelled appearance. Beth, held securely in her father's arms, mirrored his dishevelled charm, her own blond hair adorably tousled and her clothes adorably askew. Yet, despite their disarray, their faces radiated pure joy, their big smiles infectious and heartwarming.

Diane couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, finding beauty in their messy morning moments. She approached them, her own attire somewhat more put-together, and wrapped her arms around Rick and Beth, embracing them both in a warm, loving hug. Their joyous dishevelment only made her love for them grow stronger. Diane planted a tender kiss on Beth's head, expressing her affectionate love, and then pressed her lips against Rick's cheek, savouring the warmth of their connection. With a smile lingering on her lips, she made her way towards the entrance of their home, grabbing her keys along the way.

As she stood at the threshold, Diane turned back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Beth sweetheart, make sure you take care of your father. You know he's getting old," she playfully teased, her words carrying a light-hearted tone.

Beth, with her innocent sincerity, nodded and wrapped her tiny arms around Rick's neck in a gentle embrace, mimicking her mother's words. "Otay," she replied, her voice filled with love.

Rick couldn't help but play along, responding with a hint of sarcasm, "Haha, very funny, Diane. Have a safe trip."

Beth, emulating her father's tone, imitated him, saying, "Haf a sav tip," her sweet attempt at mimicking his words bringing laughter to the room.

Diane grinned, appreciating the lighthearted exchange between father and daughter. She blew a final kiss to both of them before stepping out of the door, her departure temporarily leaving a void in the room.

As the door closed behind Diane, Rick and Beth stood in the living room, a brief silence enveloping them. Beth turned her gaze towards her father, her eyes sparkling with innocence and curiosity. Rick met her gaze with a tender smile, realising that today was a day for them to spend quality time together.

"Looks like it's just you and me today, huh?" Rick said, his voice filled with affection and a touch of playfulness. Beth responded with delightful giggles, her tiny hands clapping in agreement.

Rick's smile widened as he embraced the moment. "Let's get some food," he suggested, knowing that their culinary adventures often brought them joy and shared experiences.

"Foof," Beth echoed, her eyes lighting up, and she pointed towards the kitchen, expressing her excitement.

Hand in hand, Rick gently placed Beth on the kitchen counter, ensuring her safety, as he retrieved a pan and a carton of eggs from the fridge. Walking back to the counter, he expertly heated the pan, ready to prepare a delicious breakfast for them both. Beth, always curious and eager to learn, couldn't help but inquire about the origin of the eggs.

"Eggs, where?" she asked, her eyes fixed on her father's hands.

Rick smiled, appreciating her inquisitive nature. "Well, they come from chickens," he began, his voice warm with parental guidance. "You see, chickens lay eggs, and the ones that aren't fertilised are sent to supermarkets where we buy them."

Beth's gaze turned upward, her expression seeking further understanding. "Fuftilis?" she questioned, her innocent curiosity shining through.

Rick paused for a moment, considering how to explain fertilisation without delving into the intricacies of reproduction. "Uhhh," he hesitated, trying to find an age-appropriate explanation. "Yup, that means when the egg grows to become a chick inside the egg," he replied, simplifying the concept for her understanding.

Beth, satisfied, nodded, and looked back over to the pancakes that Rick was flipping then to the windows. Rick continued to crack the eggs into the heated pan, the sizzling sound filling the kitchen, creating an aromatic melody

Beth, intrigued by the blue sky outside, asked, “why bue?” prompting an explanation. 

Rick turned his attention to her, his eyes reflecting his enthusiasm for sharing knowledge with his inquisitive daughter. As he continued flipping pancakes, he began to unravel the mystery of the sky's blue hue.

"Well, you know, the sky is like a big blanket that covers the Earth," Rick began, his voice filled with wonder. "During the day, it looks blue because of sunlight. You see, sunlight is made up of different colours, just like the colours of a rainbow. But these colours are very, very tiny, so we can't see them separately."

Beth's eyes widened with curiosity as she focused on her father's words, captivated by the explanation unfolding before her.

Rick's voice carried the excitement of discovery as he elaborated, "When sunlight reaches the Earth, it bumps into tiny little things in the air called 'particles.' These particles are really good at scattering sunlight, which means they make the sunlight spread out in all directions."

He paused, gauging Beth's comprehension before continuing, "But here's the trick: the colour blue is scattered more than all the other colours in sunlight. So when we look up at the sky, we see lots of scattered blue light coming towards us. That's why the sky looks blue to us. It's like a big blue ocean above our heads. Isn't that amazing?"

Rick skillfully finished cooking the pancakes, placing them on plates and setting them on the island in the centre of the kitchen. With a loving gesture, he scooped Beth up and settled her into one of the chairs, her plate placed before her. He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, expressing his love and encouragement. Taking a seat beside her, he eagerly awaited her next questions, ready to engage in another enlightening conversation.

As they sat together, savouring their delicious meal, the kitchen was filled with Beth's excited chatter and questions. With each inquiry, Rick patiently answered, sharing his understanding and insights, replying with equal enthusiasm.

As Rick sat beside Beth, answering her questions and witnessing her unyielding curiosity, he couldn't help but reflect on his own past. Memories of his own childhood resurfaced, carrying the weight of disappointment and loneliness. He remembered how his own parents had reacted to his inquisitiveness, dismissing his questions and leaving him feeling isolated and despondent.

These recollections served as a poignant reminder for Rick, igniting a deep determination within him. He was resolute in ensuring that his little one, Beth, would never experience the same sense of neglect that he had endured. He wanted her to always feel valued, heard, and supported, no matter how many questions she asked or how long her rambles went on.

With unwavering devotion, Rick vowed he would be her confidant, her guide, and her source of unwavering support. He would listen attentively to her thoughts, encouraging her to express herself freely, without judgement or dismissal. As he looked into Beth's bright eyes, brimming with curiosity and trust, Rick made a silent promise to himself. He would be there for her, always ready to engage in her inquiries, to indulge her in conversations that would expand her horizons, and to foster an environment of warmth and understanding.

He wanted Beth to know that her questions mattered, that her thoughts were valuable, and that her voice would always be heard. In that moment, as father and daughter sat together, Rick vowed to break the cycle of loneliness he had experienced, ensuring that Beth would grow up surrounded by love, encouragement, and the unwavering presence of a father who cherished her every word. He vowed to always protect her and be there for her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Beth

Age: 28

As the soft evening rays filtered into Rick Sanchez's garage, the dedicated inventor found himself in a familiar hunch over his cluttered desk, consumed by a whirlwind of activity. Wearing his iconic white lab coat, and a blue button up shirt underneath. With feverish determination, he toiled away on his latest creation—a marvellously intricate storage container adorned with hues of pink, unicorns and rainbows. This extraordinary device held a multitude of secret compartments, its voice recognition system astutely capable of scanning and identifying its owner. It was an exceptional present Rick had meticulously crafted for his daughter, Beth, who would soon be celebrating her sixth birthday.

Rick gazed upon his finished creation, a sense of accomplishment filling his being. A momentary pause swept over him as he surveyed the garage in search of wrapping paper. However, his eyes were unexpectedly drawn to a weathered drawing he had crafted during his childhood years. Transported back in time, Rick found himself immersed in a vivid flashback.

A young boy with unruly blue hair and deep brown eyes sat cross-legged on the floor of his best friend Jason's room. The two kindred spirits collaborated on an idea that fueled Rick's relentless passion for space. From a tender age, Rick harboured an unquenchable desire to traverse the vast expanse of the universe. He possessed an innate knowledge of the stars, effortlessly reciting their names and weaving their mythical tales. For instance, he would tell you that Cassiopeia, with its unmistakable "W" shape formed by five radiant stars, stood as one of the most recognizable constellations in the northern night sky.

The constellation itself derived its name from Cassiopeia, the conceited queen of Greek mythology, who happened to be the wife of King Cepheus of Aethiopia. Legend held that Cassiopeia boasted of her unparalleled beauty, surpassing even the enchanting sea nymphs known as the Nereids. This audacious claim provoked the ire of Poseidon, the mighty god of the sea, who dispatched a fearsome sea monster named Cetus to wreak havoc upon the kingdom. As a consequence, Cassiopeia's daughter, Princess Andromeda, found herself bound to a treacherous rock, destined to be devoured by the monstrous creature. Yet, salvation arrived in the form of the valiant hero Perseus, who rescued the princess and ultimately became her beloved husband.

In the depths of their imaginative fervour, the two boys became completely engrossed in sketching intricate blueprints for a spacecraft. Their creative vision materialised into a design that bore an uncanny resemblance to the iconic UFOs ingrained in popular culture. The spacecraft, with its distinctive form, boasted a smooth, transparent glass dome that crowned its structure. Below, a wide metallic bottom provided a sturdy foundation, hinting at the marvels contained within. Adorning the sides were a pair of meticulously crafted engines, poised to propel the spacecraft through the depths of the cosmos. Every line and detail on the blueprint held a testament to the dreams and aspirations that burned brightly within the hearts of those two young boys and excitedly chatted away as the sun went down.

As Rick snapped out of his wistful reverie, his search for the elusive wrapping paper continued, his determination unyielding. Yet, his restless mind inevitably wandered back to his latest intellectual enigma—the teleporter. The seed of this extraordinary invention had been planted in his young mind, an ever present notion that he once believed to be an impossibility. However, with the passing years and his ever-expanding wisdom, Rick came to comprehend that impossibility was merely an illusion. Now, armed with a formidable intellect, he stood on the precipice of unlocking the secrets of teleportation. Countless failed calculations and half-formed ideas adorned the walls of the garage, tangible reminders of the countless nights Rick had devoted to his relentless pursuit of this new hyperfixation of his. Despite the obstacles, Rick's conviction remains unshaken; he was tantalisingly close to attaining success. 

Through weeks of study and relentless experimentation, he had deciphered the theoretical underpinnings of a functioning teleporter. However, the crucial missing piece was an element, one yet to be created or discovered, that stood as the barrier between theory and reality. Rick knew deep within his core that this elusive element existed; the challenge lay in its transformation from abstract concept to tangible substance. The current reality's limitations posed a formidable obstacle, as it proved incapable of accommodating the tremendous power necessary for teleportation. Any miscalculations in input and output could yield disastrous consequences—splintering realities or potentially causing the user's demise. Striking the delicate balance between too much and too little power represented the paramount challenge that lay before Rick. The stakes were high, with catastrophic outcomes looming on either side of the fine line he was tasked with navigating. 

Rick had come to a profound realisation about the intoxicating nature of creation, destruction, and invention—a realisation that sent an electrifying surge through his being. Engaging in these acts of unparalleled creativity provided him with a sense of power and control that he cherished deeply. Within the realm of his scientific pursuits, Rick reveled in the ability to comprehend and manipulate the intricacies of the universe. The thirst for knowledge consumed him, driving him to unravel the inner workings of every phenomenon, no matter how minute or grand. To understand the world around him was to be in command, and this command became an intrinsic part of Rick's identity. 

With an insatiable hunger to know everything and anything, he sought to peel back the layers of reality, exposing the hidden mechanisms and unlocking the secrets of existence. The pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of control melded together, forming the core essence of Rick's purpose. The thrill of discovery and the subsequent mastery over the unknown elevated him to a state of euphoria, fueling his relentless drive to push the boundaries of scientific understanding. Control, for Rick, was not an end in itself, but rather a means to navigate the vast expanse of knowledge and reshape the world according to his vision.

Amidst the exhilarating pursuit of scientific conquests, Rick found solace and grounding in the realm of his emotions and his cherished family. They served as his anchor, his unwavering source of love and support that kept him tethered to the realm of humanity. With each beat of his heart, Rick's devotion to his family resonated with a profound intensity. Their presence illuminated his life with a warmth and tenderness. His lovely family embodied the purest form of love, a love that transcended the realms of equations and calculations. They were his guiding light, the precious souls for whom he would go to great lengths and make tremendous sacrifices. 

The bonds he shared with his wife and daughter were woven with trust, empathy, and unwavering commitment. In the embrace of their love, Rick found respite from the relentless pursuit of knowledge and control. Their laughter, their dreams, and the shared moments of joy painted vibrant hues on the canvas of his existence. Rick's family reminded him of the delicate balance between ambition and human connection. While his scientific endeavours ignited a fire within him, it was his family that nurtured his humanity, reminding him of the profound importance of love, compassion, and empathy. They grounded him in the present, providing a sanctuary of emotional support and a sanctuary in which he could find solace from the whirlwind of his inventive mind.

In their presence, Rick discovered the many new shared experiences, the heartfelt conversations, and the simple moments of togetherness that had woven into his very being. The love he held for his family acted as a compass, guiding him through the intricate labyrinth of existence, reminding him of the enduring significance of human connection in a universe brimming with infinite possibilities.

Rick's senses heightened, his attention instantly seized by the unmistakable sound of Beth's gleeful voice resonating through the house, calling out to him with unwavering enthusiasm.”DAD!”.

The rhythmic pitter-patter of her little feet echoed through the halls, drawing nearer with every passing moment. With swift reflexes, Rick sprang into action, swiftly snatching the unwrapped gift from his cluttered desk and discreetly concealing it within a nearby cabinet. The door closed just in the nick of time, shielding the surprise from prying eyes, as Beth burst into the garage in a burst of youthful energy. The young child, adorned in a pristine white t-shirt and denim overalls, radiated joy with her beaming smile. Clutched within her small hands were a pair of boots, her excitement evident in every fibre of her being.

As Rick's arms opened wide, Beth rushed into his embrace, their hearts connecting in a tender moment of familial love. He effortlessly scooped her up, her delighted squeals filling the air as he twirled her around in a playful dance of joy. In the midst of their whirlwind of affection, Rick inquired about her well-being, his eyes brimming with genuine care. Beth's pout revealed her discontent, and she lamented the state of her beloved boots.

Curiously, Rick accepted the brightly coloured boots from his daughter's outstretched hands, his brows furrowing in concern. "What seems to be the issue?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Her lips formed a small pout as she explained, "They're supposed to make my footsteps completely silent, cancelling out any noise. But this afternoon, they suddenly stopped working."

Rick's gaze shifted between his daughter and the boots in his hands, a thoughtful hum escaping his lips. With delicate precision, he examined the boots, his mind racing to diagnose the problem. Sitting down beside Beth, he engaged her in conversation, seeking clues to unlock the mystery, “did you drop them?”

Beth sheepishly looked up at her father, as she replied, “more like I threw them across a field,” a tinge of guilt danced in her eyes. 

She anticipated a scolding, but to her surprise, Rick erupted in laughter. The sound filled the room, carrying the weight of a father's unconditional love. Between bouts of laughter, he playfully inquired, "Oh, I can't wait to hear the whole story behind that!"

Rick's laughter washed away any fears Beth may have harboured, and her guilt was replaced with a sense of relief. Rick's fingers gently ruffled her blond hair, his eyes brimming with affection. With the reassurance of her father's love, Beth settled next to him, watching in awe as he set to work on mending her boots. 

As Beth began recounting the tale of the new kid named Tommy, Rick listened attentively, his head nodding in understanding and curiosity. His intermittent inquiries prompted Beth to provide more intricate details, unravelling the story with each passing word. Meanwhile, Rick's skilled hands reached for a trusty screwdriver, meticulously disassembling the boots piece by piece.

The familiar clink of metal against metal accompanied Rick's focused efforts, as he methodically examined the inner workings of the boots. His mind raced with possibilities, dissecting the components with a discerning eye. Each twist of the screwdriver brought him closer to uncovering the source of the malfunction.

The room was filled with an air of anticipation, a shared anticipation between father and daughter. Beth watched with wide eyes, her excitement blending with admiration for her father's expertise. She marvelled at his ability to unravel the mysteries of machines, all while offering unwavering support and understanding. Amidst the mechanical dissection, Rick's attention remained divided, his focus shifting effortlessly between the task at hand and the ongoing conversation with Beth. He continued to nod, his expressions conveying both his genuine interest in Beth's story and his commitment to solving the predicament of the malfunctioning boots.

As the boots were stripped down to their bare essentials, Rick's analytical mind worked overtime. With each revelation, he pieced together the intricate puzzle, exploring potential causes and devising solutions. 

“And I told him about Froopyland, and how amazing it is,” As Beth eagerly continued sharing her thoughts on Froopyland, Rick's mind travelled back to the creation of this extraordinary pocket world—a realm of wonder and imagination that he had created solely for his daughter. 

Froopyland, a place where bouncy grass floors met cartoon-like skies and breathable water flowed freely, had become Beth's sanctuary of boundless adventures and cherished memories. Rick couldn't help but smile, recalling the immense joy that illuminated Beth's eyes every time she ventured into Froopyland's enchanting realm. It was a testament to his unwavering love for his daughter, as he had spared no effort in bringing her dreams to life, even if world domination had been her original dream. To accomplish this feat, harnessed the power of Cheonicus—an elusive and exotic element with unparalleled properties.

It was no surprise when Rick had created a new device to find and identify this element solely for his daughter. Its discovery had driven Rick to embark on an audacious expedition, leading him deep into the heart of the Amazon rainforest. In the unexplored depths of a secluded cave system, he had unearthed the hidden wellspring of Cheonicus, unlocking its secrets and harnessing its immense potential.

Rick's ingenuity had transformed this remarkable element into a gateway—a portal accessible through the simple act of wielding a pink crayon. With a stroke of creativity, he had woven a bridge between reality and imagination, granting Beth access to the wonders of Froopyland. It was a testament to his relentless pursuit of the extraordinary, driven by his unwavering desire to nurture his daughter's sense of adventure and foster her limitless imagination.

Rick had written all about it into his notebook, ‘Rick Sanchez’s Interesting Findings, Vol 134’.

Page 456

Cheonicus (Symbol: Crn) is an incredibly rare and exotic element that exhibits extraordinary properties. It was first discovered in a remote region of the Amazon rainforest, buried deep within a previously unexplored cave system. When used right and activated, can release immense energy

Properties of Cheonicus:

• Temporal Energy Absorption: Cheonicus has the extraordinary ability to absorb and store temporal energy from its surroundings. It can accumulate and harness this energy, which is crucial for creating and sustaining temporal empty rooms or areas.

• Temporal Space Manipulation: When activated and used appropriately, Cheonicus generates a localised temporal field around it, creating what is known as a "temporal empty room." This room exists within a distinct temporal plane, separate from the normal flow of time. It appears as an isolated space with no discernible dimensions.

• Access to Multiple Reality Frames: Cheonicus allows individuals within the temporal empty room to access, observe and even alter different frames or even specific planes in the ‘room’.

• Time-locked Preservation: Objects or entities placed within the temporal empty room remain unaffected by the passage of time outside. This preservation effect ensures that any item or living being inside the room remains in the same condition as when it entered, regardless of the time that elapses.

• Limited Duration: The temporal empty room generated by Cheonicus has a finite duration before it collapses and returns to the normal temporal flow. The duration can be controlled and adjusted by specific temporal manipulation techniques.

…………………….. More on next page

After weeks of tireless dedication, sleepless nights, and pouring his heart and soul into the creation of Froopyland, Rick finally completed his magnum opus. It had been an all-consuming endeavour, a labour of love that had consumed his every waking moment. The final result was a testament to Rick's unwavering commitment and his unmatched genius. However, when Diane first laid eyes on the fruits of Rick's labour, her initial reaction was one of concern and scepticism. She had grown increasingly wary of Rick's inventions, fearing that they were blurring the line between humanity and a detached creator. The thought of non-existent rooms and imaginary creatures unsettled her, raising questions about the boundaries of reality and the potential impact on their daughter, Beth.

Diane's worries weighed heavily on Rick's heart, extinguishing his excitement in a heartbeat. He understood her concerns, recognizing that his relentless pursuit of innovation could sometimes lead him down uncharted and potentially perilous paths. Yet, deep down, Rick knew that Froopyland was different. It was a world he had created with the utmost care, designed to provide a safe haven for their daughter's boundless imagination.

To allay Diane's fears and demonstrate the wonders of Froopyland, Rick made a solemn promise. He vowed to remain firmly rooted in the mortal plane, never losing sight of the importance of their family and their shared experiences. With unwavering determination, Rick guided Diane into the magical realm he had crafted, assuring her that Froopyland was not just a figment of his imagination but a place of joy, laughter, and safety.

That day, etched deep in Rick's memory as a core moment of their family's bond, the three of them embarked on an unforgettable adventure within the endless skies of Froopyland. Laughter echoed through the vibrant landscape, filling the air with a sense of wonder and togetherness. Rick watched as Diane's scepticism melted away, replaced by awe and a newfound appreciation for the magical realm he had created.

In that transformative moment, Rick realised the power of balance—the delicate equilibrium between his insatiable thirst for discovery and the irreplaceable warmth of his family's love. Although it unsettled him to know that one day he may end up needing to give up one or the other to maintain the delicate balance in his life.

As Rick continued to tinker with Beth's boots, memories of his daughter's curious requests flooded his mind. Beth's insatiable thirst for knowledge and exploration never ceased to amaze him. Whenever she approached him with an outlandish idea or an obscure invention, Rick found it impossible to resist her earnest enthusiasm. He firmly believed that there was no such thing as a bad idea, especially when it came to fostering his daughter's creativity and imagination.

Beth's requests often straddled the line between eccentric and concerning, but Rick understood that it was all part of her journey of discovery. Who was he to judge the boundaries of her imagination? It was his duty as a father to encourage her to explore, to question, and to dream. He embraced the notion that for those who possessed the capabilities and the desire to bring the impossible into existence, anything could be made real.

Over the years, Beth had asked for a multitude of fantastical creations. From a talking switchblade to tracking stickers, her imagination knew no bounds. There were times when she presented him with odd and unconventional requests, like a bear with accurate innards or a deceased cat she tearfully begged him to fix. In that instance, Rick took the opportunity to transform the cat into a talking companion named Mr. Whiskers, bringing joy and companionship to Beth's world.

Each invention, no matter how peculiar, held a special place in Rick's heart. He saw them as tangible expressions of his love for his daughter, a testament to his dedication in nurturing her inquisitive spirit. He understood that Beth's thirst for knowledge could lead her down uncharted paths, and he was determined to support her every step of the way.

Rick was pulled back into the present by Beth's excited voice. She had a knack for sharing fascinating animal facts. With a smile, Rick listened attentively as she began her latest discovery.

"Dad, guess what I learned today!" Beth exclaimed, stuttering slightly at the bigger words. "Did you know that the star-nosed mole can eat its body weight in worms every day? And their noses have over 25,000 sensory receptors!"

Rick's eyes widened in amazement. "That's incredible, Beth!" he exclaimed. "The star-nosed mole has such a keen sense of smell, they must navigate their world in a unique way."

Beth beamed at her father's response and continued her rapid-fire animal facts. "And you won't believe this one, Dad. The pistol shrimp has one claw that can snap so fast, it creates a shockwave that stuns its prey. It's like having a built-in superpower!" She enthusiastically waved her hand to emphasise her point.

Rick chuckled, thoroughly entertained by Beth's enthusiasm. "Ah, the pistol shrimp," he mused. "Nature never fails to surprise us. Imagine possessing such an extraordinary weapon right at your fingertips. It's as if they're the superheroes of the animal kingdom."

Nodding along, Beth eagerly shared another intriguing fact. "And there's more! Did you know that tardigrades, also called water bears, can survive extreme conditions like space and deep sea pressures? They're practically indestructible!"

Rick raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by this peculiar creature. "Tardigrades, huh? Those tiny creatures. They possess incredible adaptability and survival skills. They could teach us a thing or two about enduring even the harshest environments, can’t they?"

Beth laughed in agreement, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Exactly, Dad! I can't wait to discover even more weird and amazing animals. It's like unravelling a whole new world out there!"

Rick continued to nod, savouring these moments of intellectual exchange with his daughter. As his fingers absentmindedly traced the contours of the boots, he became aware of Beth's growing impatience. Realising they had drifted from their playful conversation, Rick refocused his attention, ready to address her budding restlessness just as Beth cut him off. 

"Daaadddd, are you done?" Beth asked, her voice tinged with a hint of impatience.

Rick looked up from his work, realising that his hands had momentarily paused. "Nope," he replied with a playful grin. After a brief pause, he added, "But hey, do you want to help?"

Beth's eyes lit up with excitement as she nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, yes!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her feet.

Rick chuckled and gestured for Beth to come closer. "Alright, my little assistant, let's get these boots fixed together," he said, reaching out to hand her a small tool.

Beth eagerly took the tool and positioned herself next to her father, mimicking his actions. With their hands working side by side, father and daughter delved into the task of repairing the boots, sharing laughter and conversation as they bonded over their shared love for exploration and invention. In that moment, the garage was filled with light hearted chatter and laughter, the bond between father and daughter grew even stronger.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: The Other Rick

Age: 29

The living room was covered in warmth and tranquillity as the night unfolded its gentle embrace. Soft shadows danced along the walls, courtesy of the moon's tender caress that slipped through the drawn curtains, casting ethereal patterns of light. The flickering glow of the television, painted the room in hues of deep cerulean, enveloping the Sanchez family.

Rick, Diane, and Beth, nestled together on the plush couch, beneath the folds of a meticulously knitted blanket. Its intricate patterns embraced them, weaving an extra layer of comfort and security around their souls. As the movie unfolded on the screen, the room resonated with a symphony of laughter and hushed whispers, an intimate chorus that echoed throughout the room.

The air carried the scent of freshly popped popcorn, their fingers occasionally grazing against the bowl, creating a subtle melody of touch and shared delight. The velvety cushions cradled them in their embrace, offering respite from the cares of the outside world. Time seemed to melt away as they lost themselves in the captivating tale playing out before them, their minds entwined with the characters, their hearts beating in rhythm with the unfolding drama.

The flickering light of the television bathed their faces, casting delicate glows upon their features. Rick, with his tousled light blue hair and eyes gleaming with a mixture of wonder and determination, absorbed each frame with the voracious appetite of a perpetual dreamer. Diane, her eyes heavy with the weight of the day, found solace in the gentle rhythm of the film, her thoughts drifting on the edges of slumber. And nestled between them, Beth, her innocent countenance painted with a smile, succumbed to the allure of dreams, her breaths rhythmic and serene.

As the final credits rolled on the screen, Rick's attentive gaze shifted from the fading glow of the television to the serene faces of his beloved wife and daughter. It was then that he noticed the weariness etched upon Diane's features, her eyes heavy with the weight of the day's endeavours. With a gentle flick of the remote, he silenced the room, enveloping it in a cocoon of stillness. Rising from the couch, Rick moved with a quiet grace, mindful not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that enveloped the living room. The tender moment beckoned him to action, urging him to guide his family to the solace of sleep. With utmost care, he scooped Beth into his arms, cradling her slumbering form against his chest. A slight stir escaped her lips, a fleeting awareness of the world around her, but she swiftly surrendered to the embrace of dreams once more. 

Crouching down to meet Diane's gaze, Rick's gentle touch beckoned her back to the realm of wakefulness. With whispered words of endearment, he urged her to retire for the night. Supporting her weary frame, he guided her towards the bedroom, their footsteps soft and deliberate, a symphony of love and devotion. The journey was a delicate dance, each movement executed with tenderness and a profound understanding of the need for rest. 

As they entered Beth's bedroom, Rick carefully laid her down, the weight of his affectionate gaze never wavering. Tucking the covers snugly around her, he pressed a gentle kiss upon her forehead, a silent promise to guard her dreams and protect her innocence. Beth responded with a contented sigh, her features softening in the blissful embrace of slumber.

Stepping away from the bedside, Rick closed the door with a hushed reverence, shielding his daughter's rest from the world beyond. Turning his attention to Diane, he led her through the familiar path to their own sanctuary of rest. With practised ease, he unveiled the bed, smoothing the sheets and plumping the pillows, creating a haven of tranquillity. 

As Diane settled into the comforting cocoon of the bed, Rick drew the covers over her form, tucking her in with gentle precision. He lingered for a moment, his eyes tracing the contours of her face, etching her image into his heart. In the hushed stillness of the room, Diane murmured a drowsy declaration of love, her voice a soft lullaby that echoed in the depths of Rick's soul.

With a final caress upon her cheek, Rick stood by the bedside, his presence a silent sentinel of love and devotion. As Diane surrendered to the embrace of sleep, he quietly retreated from the room, leaving her to the restorative sanctuary of dreams. The door closed behind him, sealing their private sanctuary from the world's prying eyes.

Rick strolled down the hallway, his fingers lightly brushing against the frames that held the memories of their journey. Each photograph held a story, a glimpse into the tapestry of their lives. The barren walls of the house, once devoid of warmth, now overflowed with the beauty of their shared experiences. The decision to move had come at a time when Diane was a few months pregnant.

Rick couldn't deny the determination in Diane’s eyes, her desire for a fresh start, a place to create a haven for their growing family. And so, they embarked on a quest, tirelessly searching for a house that would embody their dreams. Days turned into weeks as they scoured the city, exploring one house after another. Rejections and disappointments tested their resilience, but their determination remained unyielding. The yearning for a place they could truly call home, a sanctuary filled with love and laughter, fueled their relentless pursuit. Although Rick would argue his home was not a place but a person, Diane herself. 

Then, as if the universe had conspired to align their stars, they stumbled upon a house, numbered 6910. Its cream-coloured façade exuded a sense of warmth, while the reddish-brown tiled roof spoke of stability and protection. The garage, a realm of endless possibilities, beckoned Rick with its siren call of tinkering and invention. It was everything they had hoped for, a canvas upon which they could paint their dreams. 

The neighbourhood, with its inviting charm, only deepened their conviction. Among the friendly faces that adorned the streets, there was one man who stood out—Mr. Golbem Bakmajorian. Despite the years etched upon his face, he radiated a youthful spirit, always ready with a warm smile and a genuine welcome. His presence across the street became a comforting constant, a reminder that they were not alone in this new chapter of their lives.

Continuing down the hall Rick's restless spirit yearned for the embrace of his true sanctuary—the garage. With a determined stride, he made his way through the stillness of the night, anticipation coursing through his veins. He sought solace amidst the tools and machinery that lined his sanctuary of invention. His latest invention, the teleporter, beckoned him, calling out his name in sweet whispers and promises. 

Opening the garage, his gaze shifted to the metallic box at the edge of his desk, adorned with a vibrant yellow cone and intricate rings encircling its surface. It hummed with contained energy, ready to unleash its transformative power at the push of a button. Adjacent to it, a peculiar machine resembling a large lamp caught his attention. Wires protruded from its metallic frame, converging towards a mesmerising blue bulb that flickered and pulsed with raw energy. But it was the teleporter gun that commanded Rick's unwavering focus, placed delicately at the centre of his desk. 

Its presence was formidable, with glass tubes housing five pulsating blue bars nestled within its intricate design. Metallic plates adorned the top and bottom accented with black lining and small yellow stripes, adding a sense of solidity and purpose to the device. The back, round and flat, resembled a futuristic engine brimming with untapped potential, while the front showcased a glass tube housing a large, swirling coil of blue energy, culminating in a nozzle ready to project the portal to distant realms. The entire apparatus radiated a captivating blue hue, crackling with static, a visual testament to the immense power harnessed within.

As Rick stepped into the familiar embrace of his garage, he reached for his trusty white lab coat hanging on the rack. The crisp fabric settled on his shoulders, a symbol of his unwavering dedication to the world of science. It was a garment that had accompanied him through countless experiments, breakthroughs, and moments of solace. But the past years, as he slipped it on, the weight of its significance bore down on him. Memories of his dear friend Jason flooded Rick's mind. They had shared a dorm room, Rick vividly remembered the time when Jason was engulfed in the depths of depression.

Rick was seated at the desk, meticulously sketching blueprints for an invention, while Jason, swirls of smoke emitting from his lips, found temporary solace on his bed. In those moments, Rick had tried to be there for his friend, providing silent companionship, understanding the weight of unspoken thoughts and emotions. 

It was during one of those silent nights that Jason had broken the silence, his voice rasping with a mix of pain and determination. His words etched themselves into Rick's memory, resonating deep within his soul. "That coat... represents science, Rick. Never give that up. It's the only constant, the only love that will never leave." Those words had struck a chord, reinforcing Rick's belief in the power of science as an anchor amidst the stormy sea of life's uncertainties.

Rick knew many who had left him, abandoned him, and through all that science was always there. Rick used to love his coat. For so long, it had been a symbol of his passion for science, a refuge from the pain and challenges of the world. It represented the love, creativity, and endless possibilities he once envisioned for himself and his companions. Rick had found solace in the pursuit of knowledge, and his lab coat had been his shield against the harsh realities of life.

But as time passed and he faced the loss of Jason, the once-beloved coat began to feel like a burden. It seemed to embody his sole focus on science,  shackling him to a strict narrative, leaving little room for him to confront his grief and the other facets of his life. In wearing the coat, he found himself escaping into the realm of scientific discovery, burying his problems deep within and refusing to confront them. Why should he face his problems when he had science? It provided him with control, a sense of purpose, and an avenue for escapism. It offered him the adrenaline of new discoveries, the thrill of unravelling mysteries, and the gratification of intellectual pursuits. Science became his refuge, a place where he could immerse himself and temporarily forget the pain that lingered in his heart.

As the rush of guilt coursed through Rick, he felt a weight on his chest, burdened by conflicting emotions. The mere thought of considering his beloved lab coat as shackles and a burden filled him with self-reproach. He questioned his own motives and intentions, grappling with the fear that he might be prioritising science over his family, choosing to hide away in the comfort of his scientific pursuits rather than facing the world alongside his loved ones.

Rick's heart ached with the realisation that his passion for science had become tainted, transforming from a source of solace into something that inflicted pain. He had always viewed science as a guiding light, a way to navigate the complexities of life, but now it seemed to overshadow the importance of his family and their emotional well-being. The fear of having to choose between science and his family gnawed at him, tearing at his soul. He yearned for both, recognizing their significance in his life, yet feeling torn between the two. He wanted his family, he wanted science.

Sighing, Rick's eyes fixated on the intricate blueprint of the teleporter gun that adorned the wall above his desk. Every line, every symbol represented hours of meticulous planning and calculations. As he settled into the seat, a surge of anticipation coursed through his veins, mingled with a tinge of apprehension. With the lab coat serving as a shield against doubt, Rick began his work with unwavering focus. His skilled hands manoeuvred with precision, making minute adjustments and refinements to the machine. Each twist of a screw, each tweak of a circuit, brought him closer to his ultimate goal.

But it wasn't just about assembling the physical components; the true complexity lay in the calculations. Rick's mind delved into the realms of theoretical physics, the depths of quantum mechanics, and the mysteries of portal travel. Formulas danced across his thoughts as he meticulously recalibrated, double-checking every measurement and equation. After all, in the realm of science, precision was paramount.

Hours melded into minutes, time itself seemed to warp in the confines of Rick's garage laboratory. Fatigue tugged at the edges of his consciousness, but he pushed it aside, fueled by the sheer determination to succeed. Failure was not an option, not when he had come this far. With each refinement, the teleporter gun took shape, resembling a weapon from a sci-fi tale. Glass tubes held the pulsating blue energy, while metallic plates and coils crackled with potential. The room was bathed in a soft, radiant glow, emanating from the intricate machinery that now dominated Rick's workspace.

The passage of time slipped by Rick and soon the sun was rising. Diane, having noticed Rick's absence, entered the garage with a sigh Beth in tow. Their eyes filled with a mix of confusion and concern as they discovered Rick hunched over his desk, surrounded by blueprints and scattered tools.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Beth asked, her voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

Rick looked up, his eyes gleaming with a mix of exhaustion and determination. "I'm working on something big, sweetheart. Something that will change everything."

Diane approached Rick, her voice filled with gentle concern. "Rick, you need to rest. It's not healthy to stay up all night like this."

But Rick's obsession was a force that couldn't be easily contained. "I can't rest, Diane. This is important. I’m so close and need to make sure it's safe for all of us."

Understanding the depth of Rick's dedication, Diane sighed softly. "Just remember, Rick, that we're here for you. But don't let your obsession consume you."

Rick nodded, a mix of gratitude and determination in his eyes. "I won't, Diane."

With a mutual understanding, Diane and Beth quietly retreated from the garage, leaving Rick to his inventions. As the hours ticked by, Rick's obsession drove him forward, his mind consumed by the desire to unlock the secrets of the teleporter.

Rick's insatiable obsession for control and scientific progress intertwined with the delicate balance between his family and his pursuits. The outcome of his relentless quest remained uncertain.

The calculations were on the verge of completion, the theory meticulously refined, and the moment of truth had arrived to test his invention. With practised hands, Rick made minute adjustments, fine-tuning the intricate mechanisms that held the key to manipulating the fabric of space and time. Anticipation surged within him as he contemplated the boundless possibilities awaiting on the other side of this threshold of scientific exploration.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Rick as he raised the teleporter gun, its weight providing a reassuring presence in his grip. Within the glass tube, blue energy crackled and swirled, promising untold wonders. Taking a deep breath, he fixated his gaze on the predetermined destination for the first test. Filled with unwavering determination, he activated the device, unleashing two beams of brilliant blue light.

In an instant, ethereal portals materialised, their captivating glow illuminating the garage and casting a mesmerising blue luminescence into the garage and out to the streets. The sight before Rick was breathtaking, as triumph and awe intertwined within him. The portal stood as a gateway to uncharted realms and limitless adventures. It embodied his insatiable thirst for control and stability, a tangible manifestation of his obsession for scientific breakthroughs.

However, Rick's elation was swiftly tempered by the importance of safety. He understood that appearances could be deceiving, and he could not afford to be swayed solely by the allure of success. To assess the portal's stability, Rick plucked an apple from his coat and casually tossed it into the shimmering void. The fruit vanished into the otherworldly gateway, leaving behind a palpable air of anticipation. Moments later, a charred and burnt apple emerged from a portal adjacent to the one Rick had created.

Disappointment overshadowed Rick's excitement. While the teleporter gun had achieved partial success, it fell far short of the safe and reliable device he had envisioned. There were still obstacles to overcome, risks to mitigate, before it could be considered a viable invention. 

Rick let out a heavy sigh. As if on cue, Rick heard a distinct vworp sound behind him before beinging engulfed in a green hue. Rick turned slightly and his breath caught in his throat, his mind struggling to process the bewildering sight before him. The air seemed to hum with tension as he faced his own doppelgänger, who had materialised through a green portal, reminiscent of Rick's own creation. A mix of shock, confusion, and anxiety etched itself onto his features, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

The man who stood before him, an uncanny replica of Rick himself, spoke with an eerily familiar voice that sent shivers down his spine. Rick turned to fully face him, his eyes wide with disbelief, and listened intently as the words spilled forth. "Well, well, well, if it isn’t us," the other Rick said, his tone laced with an enigmatic quality.

Dressed in divergent attire, the two Ricks presented subtle variations. While Rick wore blue pants, a black belt, a blue button-up shirt, and his trusty lab coat, the other Rick sported a darker ensemble, consisting of black clothing, sturdy boots, a red accent highlighting his torso, and a grey vest layered over a long-sleeved black shirt and red t-shirt. As Rick observed this peculiar doppelgänger, he couldn't help but notice the disparities in their physical appearance as well. The other Rick possessed hair and skin of a darker, duller shade of blue, lending him an unhealthy pallor.

A flood of questions surged through Rick's mind, intertwining with a sense of unease. Who was this other version of himself? Maybe from another reality? But how? Was his family going to be ok? An aura of uncertainty settled over him, intensifying the already electric atmosphere in the garage.

Rick's gaze remained fixed on the other version of himself as he listened to the words dripping with a subtle mockery. The implications of this encounter sent chills down his spine, and his mind raced to grasp the significance of what was unfolding before him. The other Rick strolled confidently towards Rick's prized possession—the portal gun—inspecting it with a mixture of curiosity and arrogance.

"You know the worst part about inventing teleportation," the other Rick quipped, his tone laced with a touch of condescension, "is suddenly you're able to travel the whole galaxy, and the first thing you learn is..." He casually picked up the charred apple from the desk, toying with it as he continued his stride, "...you're the last guy to invent teleportation." The apple twirled in his hand before he nonchalantly discarded it into the trash, never breaking eye contact with Rick. A flicker of apprehension flashed across Rick's face as he absorbed the implications of the other Rick's cryptic statement. There was a foreboding sense that something far more significant than teleportation was on the horizon.

“Fortunately, you’re about to invent something much more powerful,” His other self proclaimed. The air in the garage felt heavy with anticipation as Rick's instincts kicked into high gear. A nagging feeling gnawed at him, urging him to proceed with caution.

"What?" Rick blurted out, his voice tinged with unease and confusion. His eyes bore into the other Rick, searching for answers amidst the sea of uncertainties that engulfed them. His gut, a reliable compass in times of doubt, sent forth warning bells, resonating with a deep sense of foreboding.

There was an unspoken understanding within Rick that moments like these required careful navigation. The convergence of obsession, family, and science had led him to this pivotal juncture, and now he faced an enigma that had the potential to alter the course of his life in unforeseen ways. His innate intuition insisted that he approach this development with both curiosity and wariness, ensuring he understood the true nature of this "something" his other self alluded to.

Rick's mind buzzed with questions, yet he held back from voicing them, allowing the tense atmosphere to settle between them. He knew that time and patience would reveal more, and he was determined to uncover the secrets that lay hidden within this cryptic encounter. 

Rick's eyes widened as his gaze fixated on the device his other self produced. It resembled a small, white gun, its sleek design exuding an air of futuristic sophistication. His attention was immediately drawn to the intricate details etched across its surface. The gun-like structure featured a trigger and a small square button at the back, while the handle transformed into a square shape as it extended toward the nozzle. The sides boasted a dial and a switch, hinting at its complexity, while the front showcased a symmetrical grid of dots arranged in a three by three pattern, evoking a sense of purposeful design.

However, what truly captivated Rick's attention was the glass cylindrical curved top dome crowning the device. Within its confines, a mesmerising green ball of energy crackled and surged, continuously emitting sparks of electricity that danced along the surface of the glass. It held an aura of raw power, an enigmatic force waiting to be harnessed. A mix of awe, curiosity, and a lingering sense of caution washed over Rick as he observed the device.

The other Rick smirked, waving his hands around, while he spoke, “Imagine doing anything you want, then hop into a timeline where you never did it,” The other Rick continued a hint of hysteria in his tone in his voice, “Imagine going anywhere anytime with no one able to stop you.” 

Rick's brows furrowed as he absorbed the implications of his other self's words. The allure of unlimited power and freedom echoed through the air, but it was accompanied by an undercurrent of loneliness. Deep down, Rick knew that true fulfilment resided in the connections he shared with his family, rather than in limitless possibilities devoid of companionship.

"Sounds lonely," Rick responded shrugging, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. The thought of traversing through timelines and experiencing boundless adventures without his loved ones by his side held little appeal for him. He cherished the moments spent with his family, their support and presence anchoring and grounding him in a way that no technological marvel could replace.

The other Rick's annoyance flickered across his features, mingled with a tinge of anger. He waved his hands dismissively, attempting to convey the grandeur of the power that awaited Rick. "Lonely? Dude, you have yourself, your infinite selves. It's a non-stop party where the guests are the only people we like," he retorted, his voice laced with an air of superiority. He continued to assert his viewpoint, emphasising the perceived grandeur that awaited Rick. “You think it's cool being the smartest man on earth, but once we give you this technology you become the smartest thing in every conceivable universe, the infinite Rick. A god.”

A wave of resolve washed over Rick, filling him with a newfound clarity. The weight of his other self's words, filled with arrogance and a hunger for power, only served to reinforce his own perspective. He couldn't deny the allure of discovery and exploration, but the cost of sacrificing his family and embracing a path of solitude was too steep.

For the first time in his life, Rick found himself harbouring a deep hatred for the notion being presented to him. The risk of the unknown, the potential isolation, and the dark path his other self seemed to have succumbed to—all of it repelled him. The grip of his obsession began to loosen, as if the encounter with his other self had revealed the true consequences of unchecked ambition.

In this moment of clarity, Rick realised the preciousness of his family and the grounding force they provided. They kept him connected to the human side of his pursuits, reminding him of the importance of love, companionship, and shared experiences. He understood that he felt happiest residing in the embrace of his beloved Diane and Beth, rather than in the pursuit of godlike power. While a myriad of questions did swirl within him, Rick's immediate desire was to see his family. 

Rick's resolve solidified as he decisively turned his back to his other self, dismissing the offer with a casual shrug. He responded to the other Rick's anger with an air of nonchalance, his own emotions kept in check. "Eh, pass," Rick stated simply, his voice carrying a hint of indifference.

The other Rick's anger intensified, his disbelief evident in his demanding tone. "Excuse me? Bro, Ricks don't pass on this. Who do you think you are?" he spat out, his superiority shaken by Rick's unexpected response.

Rick's instincts continued to ring warning bells, to run, cautioning him against angering this obviously dangerous man. However, he maintained his composure, keeping his back turned as he rolled his eyes at the other Rick's condescending demeanour.

"A different kind of Rick, I guess," Rick retorted, his voice tinged with a touch of defiance. He refused to be swayed by the allure of power and isolation, steadfast in his conviction to prioritise his family and the values they held dear.

As his other self prepared to depart through a green portal, Rick's gaze followed him, a frown etched upon his face. His eyes squinted with a mix of suspicion and determination, fully aware that their paths were now set on diverging courses.

"Well, we'll see about that," the other Rick retorted with condescension, his confidence unwavering. Rick's eyes narrowed in a frown as he watched his other self shoot a green portal, accompanied by the distinct vworp sound that echoed through the air. The portal swallowed his other self, whisking him away to destinations unknown.

As the portal closed, leaving behind an eerie stillness in its wake, Rick's thoughts churned with a mixture of uncertainty and determination. He turned around and took a deep breath, steadying himself amidst the tumultuous emotions that swirled within him. Just as Rick was contemplating leaving to find Diane, the very woman he longed to see walked into the garage, a radiant smile lighting up her face. Her blond hair cascaded over her shoulder, and she donned a light green sleeveless top paired with white pants.

Rick's smile widened upon seeing her, his heart swelling with affection. Diane's voice carried a tone of excitement as she addressed him from the doorway. "I heard sci-fi noises. Did you make a breakthrough?" she inquired, her enthusiasm palpable as she approached him.

Their hands naturally intertwined, and Rick held them against their chests, cherishing the connection they shared. He looked into Diane's eyes and spoke, "Sort of," he replied, a gentle warmth in his voice, and deciding not to mention his other self. "I took a long look at myself and realised that maybe this science thing isn't going to pay off." Rick took off his lab coat, placing it on the chair before intertwining their fingers again.

Diane couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that Rick was choosing to prioritise their family and spend more time with them, even if it meant temporarily setting aside his scientific pursuits. She smiled back at him, her love for him evident in her eyes. "Well, why don't I go get Beth, and then we can all go out for some ice cream?" she suggested, eager to create new memories together.

Rick's eyes lit up with delight at the prospect of spending quality time with his loved ones. He enthusiastically replied, "That, Diane, is the last great idea that will ever be had in this garage." The playful banter between them filled the air, a testament to the love and joy they found in one another's company.

Rick eagerly made his way to the car, his steps filled with a newfound lightness and happiness. As he started up the engine and pulled the vehicle into the driveway, a burst of excitement surged through him. He couldn't wait to embark on this simple yet delightful adventure with his beloved family.

With a playful honk of the horn, Rick called out to his girls with enthusiasm, "Come on, girls! The ice cream's gonna melt!" His voice carried a contagious energy, reflecting his genuine excitement.

A moment later, the door swung open, and Diane emerged with their daughter Beth by her side. Beth was clad in adorable overalls, with a vibrant red shirt peeking out from underneath. Rick couldn't help but smile at the sight of his little girl, her hand intertwined with Diane's. Rick rested his hand on the steering wheel, his gaze filled with adoration as he watched the pair approach the car. In that moment, as they walked hand in hand, Rick cherished the immense love he held for them. With a sense of contentment and anticipation, Rick awaited their arrival,

Vworp—the haunting sound of a portal opening—pierced the air once again, disrupting the tranquil atmosphere. Time seemed to stretch as if caught in a nightmarish slow motion. Rick's entire being seized with an overwhelming sense of dread, his heart pounding in his chest. His features contorted in horror as a green portal materialised above his unsuspecting family, casting an eerie glow upon them. At that moment, the world seemed to come to a standstill. Paralyzed by fear and disbelief, Rick's body refused to respond to the desperate pleas of his mind. He screamed inwardly, a silent cry urging his body to move, to do something to the imminent danger, to protect. But he was helplessly rooted to the spot, his eyes fixated on his family. 

Diane and Beth, oblivious to the impending catastrophe, turned their gaze toward the enigmatic device that had fallen from the portal. Rick's heart pounded in his ears, his breath caught in his throat, as time slowed to a painful crawl. His worst fears materialised in an instant. The ticking got quicker until the device unleashed its destructive power in a blinding explosion of purple radiance shattering the delicate threads that held his family's lives together. Diane and Beth, the pillars of love and light in Rick's world, were consumed by the blast, disintegrating instantly.

In an instant, the car was violently thrown backwards by an unfathomable force, defying the laws of physics. Rick was mercilessly ejected from the vehicle, his body thrown into the unforgiving chaos. With a sickening thud, Rick crashed onto the ground, his face marred by a grotesque tapestry of grime, scratches, and blood. Agonising pain shot through his battered frame, each sensation a cruel reminder of what had happened. His anguished cry, raw and primal, pierced the air, carrying the weight of unbearable loss and despair.

In that moment, every fibre of his being rebelled against the harsh reality before him. His trembling hand reached out, as if to grasp hold of a lifeline, desperate to cling to the familiarity of the garage. Tears mingled with dirt on his cheeks as his mind fought against the unbearable truth, refusing to accept that his Diane and Beth were gone.

But the universe, in its cruel indifference, had snatched away his world once more. It had stolen his sanctuary, leaving behind only a void of heart-wrenching emptiness and a crushing despair. Rick's anguished cry echoed into the abyss, a haunting testament to the depths of his pain and the vastness of his loss. As he lay there, broken and shattered, the universe seemed to mock him with its merciless cruelty. 

Hours drifted by like an eternity, and gradually, Rick's consciousness returned, his senses awakening to the sterile surroundings of the ambulance. The chilling touch of a shock blanket enveloped his shoulders, offering little solace in the face of overwhelming despair. A man hovered over him, shining a light into Rick's vacant eyes. But Rick's gaze remained distant, lost in the labyrinth of his tormented thoughts, he remembered the last time he was like this. Diane was with him then, supporting him and picking up the broken pieces of Rick. Diane was not here this time.

The weight of guilt clawed at Rick's conscience. He berated himself for his perceived failure, for his inability to shield his family from death. The anguish of helplessness gnawed at his core, each breath laced with remorse and aching regret.

Why them? Why not me? These questions reverberated through his every thought, tormenting him with their unanswerable cruelty. In the depths of his shattered heart, he carried the burden of responsibility, as if he alone could have prevented the tragedy that had torn his world asunder. The ambivalence of existence became his constant companion. Rick felt trapped in a purgatory of grief, haunted by memories of their laughter, their touch, their love. He yearned for solace, for a reprieve from the relentless torment that engulfed him. Yet, he was unable to escape the clutches of guilt, the relentless cycle of questioning his own worthiness to live while they were gone.

Days turned into weeks, and Rick found himself in a desolate motel room, seeking refuge from the haunting emptiness of his once-vibrant home. The silence echoed relentlessly, magnifying the weight of his grief and amplifying the chorus of unanswered questions that plagued his mind.

Seated upon a worn-out couch, Rick had become a prisoner to his own sorrow. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed as he remained motionless, his body a mere vessel for his tormented thoughts. The room bore witness to his desolation, the air heavy with despair. Pizza boxes littered the floor, their presence a stark reminder of his dwindling appetite and the numbing routine that had consumed his existence.

In this purgatory of sorrow, Rick belatedly thought if Jason, who had lost his parents, had faced a void much like the one that now engulfed Rick's own world. A bittersweet empathy blossomed within Rick, recognizing that he had unknowingly shared a common thread of grief with his now dead friend. If only Rick had realised sooner what was about to happen. If only he had been quicker. If only Rick stopped that other Rick soone—. The tendrils of anger and determination began to coil within him, fueled by the weight of his grief and the profound sense of injustice. The clarity that washed over him now revealed the truth he had been reluctant to face: this tragedy was not a mere accident or twist of fate; it was a consequence of the other Rick's actions.

He wanted revenge. As the flames of anger and urge for revenge ignited within his heart, Rick's sorrow transformed into a steely resolve. He would not allow his family's suffering to go unanswered. The anguish that had consumed him for weeks now morphed into a burning desire for justice, a hunger to hold the other Rick accountable for the devastation he had unleashed. In the depths of his pain, Rick found strength he had not known existed. His sorrow was now entwined with a newfound determination, propelling him forward with a singular purpose. He would not rest until he killed the other Rick, until he made him pay for the lives he had taken and the shattered remnants of Rick's own existence.

Gathering the fragments of his shattered self, Rick emerged from the suffocating cocoon of despair. His steps were guided by a resolute focus, his mind consumed by thoughts of retribution. The pain that had weighed him down now acted as a catalyst for action, propelling him towards a path he had never imagined he would tread.

With each passing moment, Rick's determination grew, eclipsing the shadows of doubt and fear that had plagued him. The path ahead would be treacherous, fraught with uncertainty and the possibility of further pain, but he was prepared to face it head-on. Revenge had become his driving force, a beacon of purpose in the midst of his desolation. Rick was the smartest, thus strongest if anyone can do it it’ll be him.

Rick stood up, his heart pounding in his chest, fueled by a potent mix of grief, anger, and an insatiable thirst for revenge. With each stride, his footsteps echoed with determination, his mind consumed by the memories of his beloved family. Their laughter reverberated in his ears, their love an unquenchable fire that fueled his every step.

Blinded by a seething rage, Rick's vision narrowed to a tunnel of focused purpose. The world around him faded into insignificance as he raced towards his home, propelled by a burning need to confront the other Rick, to hold him accountable for the unspeakable loss that had befallen him. The weight of his grief pushed him forward, as if an invisible force urged him onward. Reason and caution were cast aside in the wake of his overwhelming fury. He was a man possessed, driven solely by a desire for retribution, his anger serving as both his fuel and his guide.

As Rick approached his house, his breath came in ragged gasps, his body pushed beyond its limits by the relentless pursuit of vengeance. The Wreckage of the house loomed before him, a gateway to a shattered existence, and he knew that on the other side awaited the embodiment of his rage. With a trembling hand, he walked into the open garage. The once soothing surroundings of his happy home now seemed tainted, haunted by the deaths of his loved ones. Every corner bore witness to their presence, intensifying his anger and stoking the flames of his determination. The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of burnt metal and singed wires, a stark reminder of the force that had torn through this space. The familiar tools and equipment that had once held the promise of discovery now lay scattered in twisted fragments, their purpose distorted by the devastation.

In the centre of it all, a semi-crater marked the epicentre of the explosive event. The floor was marred and cracked, as if the very ground had buckled under the weight of the unleashed power. It was a chilling sight, a physical manifestation of the consequences that followed in the wake of obsession and unchecked ambition. The once-hallowed ground that had witnessed countless experiments and scientific breakthroughs was now a testament to the chaos that had consumed Rick's life. The debris, both physical and metaphorical, served as a stark reminder of the cost of his relentless pursuit, a grim reflection of the shattered fragments of his dreams and the lives that had been lost.

Rick stood amidst the ruins, his gaze heavy with regret and sorrow. The charred walls and broken machinery served as a constant reminder of the choices he had made, the consequences he could never undo. Rick's resolve hardened. The devastation before him only fueled his determination to find a way to make things right, to seek revenge on the one that caused all this. 

His steps were purposeful, his movements driven by a single-minded focus. There was no room for hesitation or doubt, only the burning need to confront the other Rick, to make him understand the magnitude of his actions. The other Rick would soon learn that the consequences of his actions would be his undoing, as the fiery determination within Rick burned brighter than ever before. 

It didn’t take long for Rick to gather broken materials, and scrap metal to work on a new invention. Days blurred into nights as Rick toiled away in his makeshift workshop, fueled by an unwavering determination to right the wrongs and seek justice. Sleep became a distant memory as he poured over calculations, refined designs, and meticulously assembled the scattered remnants of his shattered dreams.

With each passing moment, Rick's focus intensified. The interdimensional portal gun began to take shape, piece by painstaking piece. He meticulously crafted and calibrated every intricate mechanism, leaving no room for error. It was a testament to his resilience, a tangible manifestation of his undying will to confront the other Rick and reclaim what was rightfully his.

The process was gruelling, the weight of grief and anger providing an undercurrent of energy that fueled his every movement. Rick's hands moved with purpose and precision, guided by a mind consumed by revenge and a thirst for justice. The interdimensional portal gun became his weapon, a tool to bridge the gap between realities and confront the other Rick on his own terms.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Rick stood before his creation backpack on his shoulders, his heart racing with anticipation and a flicker of hope. It looked like it was about to fall apart, held together by duct tape and scrap materials, but it will do. With a steady hand, Rick grasped the portal gun, its weight new yet charged with purpose. He could feel the energy coursing through it, crackling with untapped potential. It was a conduit to uncharted realms, a gateway to confront the other Rick and set things right.

As he activated the device, a surge of anticipation coursed through Rick's veins as he heard the familiar Vworp sound. The room crackled with electric energy as the portal materialised, its ethereal green glow casting a mesmerising aura. The interdimensional gateway stood before him, a bridge to parallel dimensions and the answers he sought. In that moment, Rick's determination burned brighter than ever. The portal gun represented not only his chance at revenge but also his redemption. With renewed purpose, Rick stepped through the interdimensional portal with no hesitation.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Law of Balance

Age: 29

Pythagoras was renowned for his deep understanding of the world and his ability to decipher the hidden patterns of the universe. He spoke of the delicate balance that governed the forces of nature and the intricate dance of opposites. "In this vast cosmos," he proclaimed, "there exists an eternal equilibrium, an unwritten law that governs the ebb and flow of our fortunes." His disciples leaned in, captivated by his words, as he continued, "It is the law of balance, the delicate interplay between good luck and bad luck."

He recounted the ancient tales of gods and mortals, weaving together the threads of fate and fortune. "Just as day turns to night and the seasons change, so too does fortune shift in our lives," Pythagoras explained. "For every stroke of good luck, there must be an equal stroke of bad luck to maintain equilibrium. And conversely, when misfortune befalls us, we can trust that the winds of fortune will soon blow in our favour."

Similarly the concept of yin and yang, the harmonious coexistence of light and dark, joy and sorrow. Where the symbol of yin and yang depicted the eternal dance between opposing forces.

"In the East, they speak of yin and yang, the cosmic forces that seek equilibrium," Pythagoras declared. "This philosophy teaches us that our lives are intertwined with these cosmic energies, and as we navigate through the labyrinth of existence, the pendulum of fortune swings back and forth, ensuring balance in the grand tapestry of our destinies."

I’ve got a theory as well, a theory that suggests that Pythagoras was full of shit. Yeah, yeah, I'm throwing in that classic first-person twist, but come on, I'm Rick Sanchez — the brainbox of the world, well Earth at least, maybe even the whole darn universe. It's been a hot minute since I strolled through that portal – gotta give credit where it's due, I half-expected a "crispy me" outcome or some dismemberment action. But nope, surprise surprise, I find myself in this desert oasis, which, by the way, has some serious anti-hot vibes going on. The sand's softer than a memory foam mattress, and hey, what's this? The air's actually doing the whole "breathable" thing. Now, in accordance with the universal handbook of surviving mysterious places, step one is check out the scenery. So there's sand, and oh look, a moon! Another moon, and what's that? Three moons, because why not? Oh, and did I mention more sand? Fantastic.

Next shelter. Mornings? Who knows, but let's keep that good ol' worst-case scenario vibe alive – it's the healthy way to go, right? And for the first time since my dear old family kicked the bucket, I'm sensing a twinge of excitement bubbling up. So there I am, hours upon hours of trudging through this endless sea of sand, or should I say, "sond" – yeah, let's go with that, it's like "soft sand." 

Eureka! I stumble upon the holy grail of signs of life – a colossal crash site that seems like it's been playing hide-and-seek with civilization for eons. There's this mammoth heap of metal, or metal-esque stuff, nestled snugly in the sond. It's a true masterpiece of intricate patterns and grooves, like it's been doodled on by some cosmic artist. Oh, and let's not forget the pièce de résistance: a whopping hole in its side that's so damn inviting. My hands? Yeah, they're having their own little jig because, my friend, excitement's got them all shook up. This is it – uncharted territory, brand-newness, the whole shebang. And guess what? Me, the brainbox extraordinaire, is savouring this feast of unprecedented sights.

Hours of pure, unadulterated exploration transformed me into the Indiana Jones of the unknown. That metallic mound, lo and behold, was a legit spacecraft – none of your ordinary flying saucer business. No, this thing was a canvas for some extraterrestrial hieroglyphics, looking like they were scribbled by a cosmic graffiti artist. Now, deciphering how this bad boy functioned was a walk in the park, thanks to its high-tech wizardry. Well, high-tech by Earth's standards, anyway. Who's to say this isn't the universe's lousiest space jalopy?

My personal survival rule? "Loot all the shinies" – a motto to live by, really. And oh boy, did I heed that call. I scavenged like a post-apocalyptic magpie, nabbing anything that gleamed, shimmered, or screamed "expensive." You know, the good stuff. But the highlight of my newfound treasure trove? Well, besides the snazzy weaponry, I stumbled upon a lightsaber-esque sword – yep, you read that right – and a foldable scythe that looked like Death's own swag. Jackpot, universe!

While venturing through the great unknown, a profound realisation struck me: Earth's playbook doesn't hold a candle out here, and predicting curveballs is the name of the game. Case in point: the bone structure I just stumbled upon would give any human or animal a run for their money in the weirdness department. And yet, peeking at those bones, it's crystal clear that some universal laws still apply, like the whole weak-points thing – every critter, no matter the planet, seems to have its Achilles' bendy-bone spot.

Now, let's chat about the basics, shall we? The old adage that all living beings need water and a good ol' O2 fix? Well, turns out that's a bit too "carbon life form" centric. Who's to say what goes down out here? Maybe creatures are sipping on gasoline and slurping cyanide like it's happy hour – I mean, who am I to judge? This is a realm of possibilities, people. Which brings me to my magnum opus, my pièce de résistance: the "Richard Sanchez Book of Interdimensional and Cosmic Etiquette, Volume 1." And the guiding principle? Buckle up, buttercups, 'cause it's all about expecting the unexpectable.

My master plan of liberating the shiny loot in pursuit of Finding an alien black market and striking it alien-rich is sailing smoothly, all things considered – perhaps a tad too smoothly, if you catch my drift. Never one to question a gift horse or whatever the saying is. When it comes to shelter, I'm not splitting hairs. Consulting my earthly watch, it appears to be 2am. No wonder my energy levels are starting to drip low. 

Ah, water, the desert dweller's eternal woe. But hold your horses! I'm not just any ignorant, naive desert wanderer; I'm a certified genius with a knack for preparation. Thus, behold the revelation: I've got water in tow, because foresight is my middle name, well Daniel is actually but oh well. Oh, and let's not forget the sleeping bag for that deluxe desert siesta experience. And guess what else I've got stashed away in my dimension-hopping backpack? Canned food, baby! Now, it might look like something your pooch would feast on, but let me tell you, I, the culinary wizard, concocted these cans of delight eons ago, way back in anticipation of a national chaos. Diane, rest her soul, never gave these cans the time of day – dog food vibes, am I right? But truth be told, this stuff is the real MVP. Looks aside, it's a nutrient-packed, flavour-packed superstar. Who's laughing now, Diane?

"Legend has it that narrating your life and talking to yourself is a one-way ticket to Lonelinessville," I quipped, letting out an audible sigh. But hey, silver lining alert: the night sky's a darn masterpiece. My gaze drifted upward to the roof's breach, giving me a front-row seat to the cosmic fireworks display – a canvas of lights and hues painted across the velvety expanse of the void. With a contented belly and cocooned in a snug, toasty sleeping bag, my eyelids started to droop, leading me towards the land of dreams. It's a touch ironic, really, that this marks the first night in a hot minute where my sleep isn't some kind of battlefield. The odd part? Feeling strangely serene, all detached from Earth and its chaotic hustle and bustle.

As I groggily stirred from my slumber, the first inkling of thought to hit me was the persistent darkness that still enveloped my surroundings. Two scenarios surfaced to explain this: either I've pulled off an epic sleeping marathon through a non-Earth day, or this planet has a serious penchant for marathon-length nights. As yawns escaped and I sat up, my bones orchestrated a symphony of cracks and pops. A quick glance at my trusty earthy watch confirmed my suspicions – a glorious 14-hour sleep had blessed me, which perfectly explained why I felt like a million bucks... and why my stomach was staging a rebellion. Time for the canned food extravaganza! 

I scavenged up some soft, flammable materials from the ship's stash, piecing together a makeshift campfire. I whipped up a gourmet creation: lasagna-flavoured mush, a.k.a. my culinary marvel in a can. As I savoured the mush, I began to plot my next move. Word on the street was it's wise to avoid overstaying your welcome in one spot – It’s better to explore anyways. Even Though I hadn’t seen any living creatures, it's always best to assume everything out there has a case of the grumpies and is hostile to shit. Thus, my plan? Tread carefully, regard every critter as a potential danger magnet, and engage in direct eye-contact only when absolutely certain. Navigating this cosmic playground is like stumbling into a whole new rulebook, one that didn't come with a manual. I'm out here all by my lonesome, isolated in this vast expanse of the unknown. And guess what? Everything I thought I knew back on Earth? Yeah, it's as useful as a broken hyperdrive. Ethics, human decency – are they even part of this interstellar equation? It's like a sucker punch straight to the gut, leaving me with this lingering ache that I can't quite shake.

With home base neatly packed, I resumed my trek, jotting down every tidbit of wisdom I gathered along the way. Those moons – 19.3 degrees, 10.2 degrees, and 13.6 degrees of movement – they're giving off some major Earth vibes, implying that this place might just twirl around like a home sweet home and be of similar size. Although let's hold off on conclusions until dawn decides to show up. Star-studded navigation, turns out, aligning stars with north and south is like connecting cosmic dots, a piece of cake. And as luck would have it, this planet's magnetic field is rather similar to that of Earths, so north orientation was practically begging to be identified. Scrap materials? Oh, they make fantastic makeshift compasses. Who needs Siri when you've got space debris, am I right?

It took a whopping 48 Earth hours for the sun to finally make an appearance – talk about playing hard to get. But here's the kicker: that celestial ball of fire turned into a diva and decided to call it a day after just half an earth morning. And boy, did that half-day experience redefine the term "scorching." The heat? Intense enough to turn moisture into an endangered species under its relentless glare. Thankfully, I'm no rookie – I had the foresight to pack extra threads and sniffed out some big rocks to play hide-and-seek with the sun.

Now, speaking of those enigmatic rocks, they're quite the puzzle themselves, hailing from the land of the unknown. Collecting samples seemed like a no-brainer, because who knows what treasures these babies might hold in the future?

But let's shift gears to more riveting news – civilization on the horizon! A distant, luminous blob snatched my attention. To catch a better glimpse, I transformed into a hiking extraordinaire, ascending a sond-covered mountain and going full ninja crouch mode for optimal peeping purposes. And there in the mist of the barren sondy land.

An urban expanse of a vibrant and futuristic cityscape. Sky-piercing skyscrapers, slender and towering, punctuate the cloudless heavens. These architectural wonders sport a steampunk-meets-futuristic facade, their surfaces bouncing back the vivid neon hues that cloak them. The lower layers of this urban maze are a hive of ceaseless motion, as sentient beings pour through illuminated streets and elevated walkways. Neon splashes paint the scene in a mesmerising array of colours, weaving an atmosphere that's purely otherworldly. Amidst this symphony of technology, an anomaly appears: a lone truck journeying through the vast, barren desert. Its presence offers a stark contrast to the futuristic surroundings. The juxtaposition of these elements evokes a sense of awe, showcasing a world where the past and the future coexist in harmonious chaos. 

And the kicker? Brace yourselves – aliens are in the house. Well, maybe not literally in my house, but you catch my drift. Peering from my vantage point, my excitement's basically ready to burst at the seams. While I might not yet possess super-vision, the cavalcade of spacefaring vessels and the bustling assortment of interstellar cars on the ground tell a compelling story – aliens, ladies and gentlemen, its fucking aliens. Alright, let's get our priorities straight – observation, my dear Watson. Knowledge is power in this rodeo. So, step one: size up the danger quotient of every sentient creature around. Weaknesses? Strengths? It's like putting together an alien-themed puzzle.

Digging deeper. What in the multiverse is this place? Why is it the epicentre of cosmic hustle and bustle? The trail of vehicles coming and going gives away a little secret – it's gotta be some sort of interstellar trading hub, right? But hold your warp drives, Captain Kirk, 'cause even with all this intel, ensuring I'm not about to get the equivalent of a one-way ticket to being trafficked and sold or worse is kind of crucial.

But here's the clincher: that pesky language barrier. Communication? A bit of a roadblock, I'd say. Fingers crossed for universal hand gestures or some kind of Babel fish upgrade. Cracking the code of new languages might not be such a cosmic conundrum in reality. The idea of universal rules governing fundamental words and phrases could be the Rosetta Stone of the universe – just pay heed, soak in the context, and voilà! Here's to hoping those golden rules of language still hold their own, even when light years away from Earth.

It wasn’t too hard to find a prime vantage point and assembling a temporary base of operations. Making a mini telescope wasn’t hard especially when there's a bounty of scrap goodies lying about. With the countdown to dawn in full swing, it's like the locals of this joint are part of the "Not a Fan of the Sun" club, too. Seems like there's a whole lot of packing and concealing going on, and I'm here for it, perched like an intergalactic detective ready to crack this stellar case wide open. 

As the heat cranked up and boredom threatened to take over, I decided to dive headfirst into a little DIY project: upgrading my trusty portal gun. I tightened the screws, reinforced the bits and bobs, and overall gave it a solid security makeover – though, let's be honest, it still resembled a galactic garage sale find. But hey, looks can be deceiving, right? So there I was, tinkering away, embracing the chaos of this unknown world while my portal gun got a well-deserved tune-up.

As days melted into each other, I embraced my inner scavenger, gathering bits and bobs that had taken a tumble from storage and transport vehicles. Meanwhile, I made it my cosmic duty to snoop around and get the lay of the land. My bold blue shirt screamed "Hey, look at me!" in the dead of night, so I donned a cloak of darkness, ready to gather intel and loot incognito. Stealth mode engaged. Now, let's talk market – or should I say black market? The evidence was pretty in-your-face, from caged alien critters begging for their version of a lawyer to an insectoid fella donning military gear with a huge, ominous X stamped on it. Looks like the Law is flexing its muscles even in this extraterrestrial playground. That's right, friends, law enforcement transcends borders – and planets, apparently. 

Days rolled by, and I honed my eavesdropping skills, catching snippets of conversations between a medley of alien species – yep, species, plural. This cosmic melting pot was a real doozy, featuring a cast of characters that would make Spielberg jealous. Picture this: humanoid entities boasting a generous six arms, tails, and a palette of skin colours that would make a rainbow blush. And what's the deal with these guys? Shiny items are like their kryptonite, and don't even get me started on their relationship with O2 – masks and tanks galore – deathly to them it seems.

But that's not all. There are green blobs, little critters that pack a punch when they're together, morphing into a single, massive glob to scare off troublemakers. And let's not forget our scaly, reptilian friends with horns that scream "stay away." Their aggression and street smarts could put a New York City cab driver to shame. Speaking of which, one almost had me for lunch – I was hiding, minding my business, and out of nowhere, it's like it suddenly developed X-ray vision and zeroed in on me. 

Oh yeah, danger's in the air,And here's the kicker – these creatures have some sort of superhuman hearing that's nothing short of uncanny. I kid you not, it's like they could hear my heart going wild, pounding like a drum in my chest. And the only thing that saved my skin was the fact that my heart was performing a solo panic concert. Go figure, right? So, there I am, with my heart thumping like a metal drum set, and the creature decides to give me a pass. Now, I should be a tad offended, but hey, playing the "scared human" card ain't such a bad tactic. And thank the cosmic powers it wasn't one of those traffickers, 'cause if it were, I'd be enjoying a delightful stay in a cage right about now. Not to mention I’m probably the only human out here, hence rare. Cheers to narrowly avoiding that plot twist! 

Circling back to the whole language-learning extravaganza – turns out, each alien species comes packing its own linguistic toolkit, which was pretty obvious. But guess what? The universe has thrown me a bone by dishing out some universal lingos for those interspecies chitchats. Learning these new languages has been surprisingly smooth sailing, and it's turning out to be a superpower I didn't know I needed. However, I hit a roadblock: while I can grasp these alien tongues and have conversations, decoding and translating written words to good ol' Earth English? Not so much. And let's not even talk about my vocal cords struggling to form some of these otherworldly words.

About three days into my linguistic adventures, I stumbled upon a game-changer – a translation device that could be neatly nestled in one's ear, magically converting spoken words on the fly. Yeah, my days of sweat and alien dictionaries suddenly seemed a tad redundant. Talk about a plot twist. Sure, I could still see some merit in being able to read, and it's got me itching to get my hands on that gizmo. Who knows? Maybe it could even tackle Earth languages, which would make my interstellar escapades a whole lot easier.

With a cunning plan forming in my head, I procured a stash of supplies – steel-like beam, a jury-rigged bomb, yes my genius mind discovered the equivalent substance to gunpowder on this planet. though admittedly less explosive and more like a gas-spewing affair. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, right? It would help in nabbing some poor creature for a meaningful chit chat and some valuable info-gathering. I'd need two of those coveted ear translators if I want to interrogate the poor sod. One step at a time – for now, my sights are set on snagging just one of those nifty gizmos. The bridge of multiple translators and interrogation can wait. 

A quick snatch-and-grab mission for those ear translators? Sounds like a piece of cake, right? Well, let's just say the universe had other plans in store. The moment I stepped out of my cosy little base, I walked straight into a situation. A duo of beings, sporting massive skulls and a vibrant teal complexion, blocked my path. Their attire screamed "warrior," and that got me thinking – even across dimensions, some things like fashion choices still match up. Earth's sense of style apparently spans the cosmos.

Taking a closer look, I realised the female of the pair appeared slightly less intimidating, like the weaker link. So, my plan of action? To nab her, shake out some info. But here's where it gets spicy – just as I was about to make my move, she pulled off a mind-boggling feat. She obliterated a hulking boar-like creature, easily three times the size of its Earth counterpart, without laying a finger on it. Telekinesis. Yep, that's right, she mind-tossed the critter like it was a paper airplane. And guess what? After that jaw-dropping display of power, I was out of there faster than a warp-speed sneeze. Sometimes discretion is indeed the better part of valour.

Scouring the city's fringes, my gaze settled on a solitary figure – puffing away on something that can only be space's version of a cig. I mean, why not have space drugs too, right? The being was a masculine-looking creature, lean and mean, with a lone eye and just two fingers. There he was, lost in thought, wearing that all-too-familiar expression of someone who's pondering the mysteries of the universe. My initial instinct was to just bail and leave the sentient be, but then it hit me – this could be my shot at cracking the code to my ear-translator quest.

I decided to test the waters. First up, a little hearing experiment. I lobbed rocks at varying distances, gauging the critter's reaction. Turns out, his hearing wasn't exactly top-notch, which meant his other senses might be in superhero mode. And that's where the risky part came in. If it's sight, he could see through the explosive fog and nail me before I blinked. If it's touch, he might as well be the king of sensing air movements. But here's the kicker – if he's not reacting to the vibrations of those rocks hitting the ground, then we've got a winner. It's a high-stakes game of alien senses, and I'm all in. 

Drawing in a deep breath, I ignited the smoke bomb clutched in my hand and hurled it as close to the sentient figure as I dared. In the same heartbeat, I donned specialised goggles designed to cut through the fog, and my trusty steel pipe was firmly gripped in my other hand. My intent? Cripple, not kill – a well-aimed hit to the head would do the trick. I hope. A high-pitched squeal, followed by the eerie hiss of the smoke bomb, sent me into motion. Without a second thought, I dashed into the fog-shrouded chaos, honing in on the sound. In one seamless surge, I swung the steel pipe, connecting with the creature's noggin with all the might I could muster. Instinct guided my actions, and before the fog could even begin to lift, the deed was done. My prey lay prone before me, and it was now or never, who knew how long it’ll stay out.

I hesitated as a notion struck my mind – what if this creature had something valuable? A universal currency, perhaps? Swiftly flipping the creature over, my hands roamed across its scaly skin and leathery attire. Jackpot – a device nestled in its pocket, complete with a screen and all the bells and whistles. Gathering the spoils, I bolted, my boots pounding in the sond like a war drum, heart racing in tandem. The return sprint to HQ was a frenzy of adrenaline and triumph. The plan had worked, but who knew what cosmic secrets this newfound device might unlock? 

Finally reaching base I looked at the bonafide computer-like device, concrete evidence that a network system pulses through this cosmic landscape. Frankly, it's no shocker. I mean, any species that's nailed the whole "warping through infinite space" gig should have a decent grasp on technology. Funny how the revelation hits me just now. It's like a cosmic "aha" moment.  And then it hits me again – racism, that age-old divisive nonsense? Out here, it's like a relic from a bygone era. Why? 'Cause when you're rubbing shoulders with species that can zip across galaxies, it's a no-brainer that squabbling over skin tone and looks is, well, inconsequential. The sheer vastness of space makes our little squabbles look, well, puny. Any species who still is fighting with itself or other probably hasn't gotten far enough scientifically yet to discover bigger issues.

It's like a universal epiphany – there's way bigger fish to fry than each other. And you know what? Even those civilizations that might not be intergalactic superstars, but still have space travel? Same page. There's some cosmic etiquette at play, a basic set of rules for species mingling that seems to be as universal as maths. And very similar to an Earthly mindset. And who knows, maybe there's a "Universal Google" out there or a "Universal Spa" – the possibilities are endless. Heck, maybe there's even a "Universal Government" keeping all the interstellar peeps in line.

With the newfound device still unopened, I knew a bit of rest was in order. A quick power nap and a hearty meal of canned stew refuelled me for what lay ahead. As I glanced at my watch, I realised dawn was just a few hours away – not the best time for a deep dive into the translation gadget. So, I decided to switch gears and focus on another technology gem I'd snatched earlier – a bulky contraption that looked like a hybrid of a computer and a phone. 

Picture this: a hefty contraption, its front dominated by a screen and a tactile keypad. A signal detector jutted from its top, lending it an air of intrigue. The device was bathed in a deep green hue, and its sides were adorned with buttons, each one a potential gateway to undiscovered realms. Drawing on my previous observations of languages and universal symbols, I zeroed in on the unmistakable "on" button. As my finger made contact, the screen burst to life, its luminance matched only by the electric buzz of activity. I couldn't contain my exhilaration – it was as if excitement itself had reached a boiling point within me.

Holy shit, talk about a cosmic revelation – that device was a full-fledged communication marvel. It was like stumbling upon a treasure trove of digital secrets, complete with chat messages, talks of deals, and payments galore. My jaw might as well have hit the cosmic floor. But that's not all. Buried within the digital chatter, I unearthed a revelation that made my pulse race even faster: a universal government, the mighty Galactic Federation. They're basically the galaxy's top cops, keeping law and order across the cosmic realm. But, let's be real, any government that spans this universe is bound to have a touch of corruption. It's a universal truth – power often comes with its darker side. 

And get this – the puppeteers pulling the strings are the Gromflomites, these bug-like sentient beings. Sounds like a sci-fi movie, right? But it's real. They're running the show and, guess what, they've cooked up a universal base currency – worth one of itself. And if that's not enough, it looks like currency trading is a cosmic sport, with fluctuating rates and universal banks that help keep the cosmic economy ticking. It's like Wall Street on a universal scale. Drowning in a sea of information, I channelled my inner sponge, absorbing and internalising every nugget of knowledge that the handheld marvel offered. With each tap, swipe, and scan, I was building a mosaic of cosmic wisdom. Soon enough, the device became my compass, guiding me through the intricate web of currency exchange rates and the celestial economy's hidden gems. Expensive baubles and rare treasures – I could pinpoint them like a seasoned cosmic prospector, thanks to the intel at my fingertips. 

The passage of time seemed to blur as I looked outside, only to realise that the night had once again taken hold. Hours must have slipped away while I was immersed in my research. With a leisurely stretch, I threw on my cloak and made a decision – it was high time I tested out the translation device. Slotting it into my ear, I ventured out, the city's allure pulling me like a cosmic magnet. Guided by the shadows, I observed a pair of traders, my ears tuned into their conversation. And there it was – the device at work, a marvel of interstellar tech. Their words flowed effortlessly into my ears, transformed into flawless English.

"…the items in the truck, all 46 of them," the gruff voice of the fishlike alien resonated.

"Undamaged, I hope," the shorter, armoured figure responded with an air of authority, grabbing a set of keys from the fishlike being before striding toward the truck, vanishing from earshot.

Giddiness bubbled up within me – success! That feeling of pure exhilaration fueled me as I dashed back to my humble base. Bursting with enthusiasm, I decided to crack open the device and delve into the intricacies of its workings. Reverse engineering was the name of the game, with hopes of unlocking its secrets and perhaps giving it a cosmic upgrade. Hours melded together as I tinkered away, engrossed in deciphering the mysteries of this pint-sized marvel. And then, the lightbulb moment. It hit me like a meteor impact – the device was essentially a cosmic information collector. It hoarded user input, storing it deep within its digital heart. In action, it danced between devices, orchestrating a symphony of information transfer. Words flowed in, information flowed out, all seamlessly processed and matched in cosmic harmony. If a word lacked a match in the origin language, the device simply fell back on its ace – it would speak the word in its original form and follow up with a definition. 

Armed with this newfound knowledge, I set out to supercharge the translator. Using the communication device I had earlier acquired, I dabbled in intergalactic programming. Surprisingly, it wasn't the cosmic enigma I expected – a bit like mastering a new recipe with a familiar set of ingredients. With the basic rules in place, the task was more akin to crafting than cryptic sorcery. Before long, the upgraded translator was born. This was no mere update – it was a leap into uncharted territory. I designed it to be more than a simple conduit of words. Now, it was a cosmic bug, a tiny digital sleuth that could infiltrate the vast expanse of stored conversation data. Once collected, the bug would transmit the data back to my device. Then, the magic happened – my translator would sort, categorise, and organise the information based on specific variables. The refined insights would wing their way back to my communication device for my perusal and study.

Understanding the gravity of my newfound power, I spared no effort in fortifying the translator's security measures, ensuring data theft and information blockage were thwarted at every turn. Confident in my work, I ventured out to put the device to the test, embarking on my maiden journey into the heart of the city for the first time. It was peak hour – a prime opportunity to gather a cosmic cornucopia of information. As I approached the city's bustling entrance, the scene exploded with vibrant activity. Different species intertwined in conversations, trading exotic wares and mingling amongst the myriad stands, each laden with unfamiliar materials and enigmatic devices. 

The aromas of freshly cooked meats wafted through the air, mingling with the fainter scent of more dubious dealings. Some stands exuded an undeniable charm, their shopkeepers appearing almost comically cute – a façade that belied their potential deadliness should the need arise. Each being at the bazaar was a living testament to the universe's boundless diversity. As I wandered through the bustling crowd, I couldn't help but marvel at the kaleidoscope of appearances and tales that surrounded me. Amidst this cosmic carnival, my attention was drawn to a stand adorned with materials resembling those I had plundered from the spacecraft. Furtively moving toward it, I nestled in the shadows, my ears attuned to the conversation unfolding between the vendor and a cat-like sentient. 

Their exchange was a symphony of negotiation, a dance of words that determined the value of these enigmatic materials. Concealed in the shadows, I activated my upgraded communicator, diving into the cosmic well of information. Swiftly scrolling through the data, I found what I sought – the rates for the materials I possessed. My heart skipped a beat – the values attached to my loot were staggering, their worth soaring into the realms of the extravagant. In that moment, surrounded by the murmurs of trade and commerce, I was poised to capitalise on this cosmic opportunity, armed with the knowledge to navigate this sea of transactions. 

Approaching the clerk, I steadied my nerves and engaged my most confident demeanour. The clerk, with his red-tinted skin, spiky head, tusks protruding from his mouth, and a patchwork of features that spanned both fleshy and scaled domains, bore witness to my arrival. Ensuring my hood concealed my features, I laid out the looted goods on the counter.

Summoning my inner charisma, I spoke in a voice that masked any hint of uncertainty, "How much?"

The clerk's snake-like eyes appraised me for a beat before shifting their focus to the scattered treasures. A hint of surprise flickered across his features before he adopted a nonchalant mask, feigning disinterest. 

“7000 clyider,” he grumbled, his voice holding a note of roughness. This equated to a staggering 120,000 blemflarcks, the universal galactic currency that translated to roughly 100,000 USD on Earth.

Summoning my negotiating prowess, I countered, "15,000." I knew the value range of my goods, ranging from 9,000 to 13,000 clyider.

The clerk's eyes widened at my audacity. "8000, that's my final offer," he shot back, a mixture of hesitance and determination playing across his features.

Putting on an air of experienced confidence, I let out a feigned sigh. "Look, I can fetch a higher rate elsewhere, but I'm in a hurry. Are you going to accept my offer or not?" My gaze locked onto his, attempting to project an aura of intimidation.

He hesitated for a moment, his resolve wavering. "13000," he eventually conceded, realising he was dealing with someone who knew their worth.

With a satisfied nod, I agreed to seal the deal. As I walked away, 13,000 clyider heavier, I couldn't help but revel in the success of my calculated negotiation, all while a cosmic smirk played on my lips.

Returning to my base, a sense of accomplishment tingled within me, but it was short-lived. I soon realised I was shadowed by two wolf-like sentients, their posture hunkered and intent clear. My instincts kicked in, and I swiftly sought refuge in a secluded corner, my heart pounding with anxiety. The duo rounded the corner, scanning their surroundings before their interest seemed to wane, and they moved on. A sigh of relief escaped me as tension slowly ebbed away, and cautiously, I emerged from my hiding spot. Trailing my steps back toward my base, I remained vigilant, glancing over my shoulder to ensure I hadn't unwittingly acquired new followers. But in my vigilance, I overlooked the reptilian brute looming ahead. Before I knew it, I had collided with his formidable frame. 

My eyes barely grazed his shoulders – he was a monolith of muscle and scales. A condescending grin formed on his lips as he towered over me, his dominance evident. With a single swing of his brawny arm, I was catapulted through the air, my world spinning as I tumbled across the terrain before finally coming to a rest in the soft embrace of the sond. Groaning and wincing at the throbbing ache that reverberated through my body, I was reminded of the cosmic pecking order and the reality that even in this brave new universe, my genius intellect could be swiftly overshadowed by raw, unyielding power.

Shit it definitely broke a rib, bastard. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I glanced up to find the reptilian drawing closer, his predatory gaze fixated on me. Panic surged through my veins, urging me to take swift action. With a desperate grab, I retrieved the pocket knife concealed within my pocket, my fingers clenching around its familiar hilt. My intention to rise was cut short, however, as the reptilian's foot descended upon my back, propelling me face-first into the unforgiving ground. The world spun in a disorienting whirl as I grappled with pain and the need to formulate a strategy.

My face pressed into the sond, every breath an agonising reminder of my vulnerable position. As the reptilian's presence loomed, his voice slithered into my ears with a chilling condescension. "Well well well, what do we have here, an exotic," he mused aloud, as if I were an item to be bought and sold. The mere notion sent shivers down my already battered spine. "Might even taste good," he added, his tone dripping with predatory amusement. My heart raced as I struggled to process the dire situation. It was only then that I realised my hood had been dislodged during the altercation, exposing my face.

The weight of the moment settled upon me like a cosmic collision, the harsh truth that I was now the exotic attraction in this otherworldly spectacle.  one-of-a-kind human specimen in this cosmic zoo. Who needs an intergalactic passport when you can just be the living embodiment of "out of this world"? Just call me the Earth Ambassador to the Universe – or at least to this planet, where every corner seems to be crawling with creatures that make my biology look like an alien oddity. If I don’t fight back I'm basically dead meat here. 

Grasping my pocket knife, I mustered every ounce of courage and plunged it deep into the reptilian's leg, the blade sinking into his scaled flesh. A roar of pain erupted from the reptilian's throat, it was no time to revel in my small victory though. Quickly scrambling to my feet, I hesitated for a fleeting moment, witnessing the creature's suffering. I swallowed hard, I echoed the mantra, "Don't think, just do." In this unfamiliar and perilous realm, sentimentality and sympathy were luxuries I could not afford. It was a hash reality check, a stark understanding that in this merciless domain, survival wasn't a realm for the faint of heart. Kindness was a weakness that could be exploited, and empathy, a currency with no value.  It's a game of raw instinct and calculated moves, and I was about to make mine. 

The harsh sequence of events unfolded in a mere heartbeat, leaving me breathless and charged with a surge of adrenaline. Before I could fully process what had happened, the reptilian lay motionless at my feet, its once-predatory gaze now glazed and lifeless. The mouth that had once spewed threats and condescension was now frozen in a silent scream, a testimony to the rapid and brutal conclusion of our encounter. The blade of my knife was embedded in its neck.

As I stood there, my breath ragged and my heart pounding, I locked eyes with the lifeless creature before me. Its bloodshot gaze seemed to bore into my very soul, a haunting reminder of the life I had extinguished. But the harsh reality of this universe forced me to suppress any lingering sentiments. Swiftly, I collected my belongings and turned away, leaving behind the stillness of death in my wake. Every step forward was a testament to my determination to survive, to adapt, and to overcome the countless challenges that this enigmatic universe held in store.