Chapter Text
It had started as just an ordinary tuesday night. Granted, most people wouldn't consider carefully watching hundreds of tubes of boiling pink liquid for your boyfriend a normal evening, but for Stan it had sadly become the norm. In fact he didn't even seemed too concerned anymore that said boyfriend was traveling through different dimensions and into alien worlds. For Stan over the past few years, through now numerous weird adventures, this was just the way things were when being with Rick Sanchez.
But usually he came back through the portals alone and not with a pair of identical kids who shared an eerie resemblance to Rick.
"Rick? Who the heck are they?"
Rick seemed confused at first, quickly pushing the two kids towards Stan. "Oh, these guys? Well this is a Rainbow Morty and this is a Hippie Morty. They're my grandsons from alternate dimensions."
"Um thats... Nice? But why-"
Before Stan could get an answer, Rick was shooting off another portal and making a mad dash towards it. "Make sure they don't break anything! I'll be right back! Gotta go get some more!"
Suddenly alone with the two nervous kids, an awkward silence began to form.
"So... You two know anything about cooking space meth?"
~~~
Stan was pretty proud of himself. He'd managed to use his people skills and learn a bit more about the two. But part of him now wished he hadn't. Poor kids...
Despite the happy grin the Rainbow kid wore, he'd speak in cryptic messages about rising moons and suns. When he was coherent though, he did mention really liking puzzles and looked pleased when Stan gave him one of the sudoku books and a word-jumblers lying around the apartment half-finished. Things seemed to be going ok until Stan pried a little too far. The kid got this haunted look when he brought up a bunch of Ghost Mortys that he use to be on a team with.
And the tree-hugging kid didn't have it any better. Apparently he was actually some sort of fusion of two other Mortys that didn't fully work. Sometimes his mind would try and violently split back into the two separate entities. But he said it terrified him even more when his thoughts would finally meld into one and he'd forget temporarily who he use to be.
Stan tried his best to distract them in tiny ways and get them to smile. But he, of all people, knew that there was some bad stuff no one could really just shake off... However all in all, he'd managed to get both kids to relax some and put a little trust in him so Stan considered it a success in his own right. He still didn't know why they were here but Stan felt like maybe he could get use to having two more faces around the apartment. This could probably work!
That was, until Rick stepped back into the house with another two distressed Mortys. One dressed in some weird alien-military uniform while the other wore a leather jacket that vaguely reminded Stan of his biker past.
"What? How many do you plan on getting?" Stan was barely able to sputter out words before Rick was taking off again. "Wait! Rick, No more!"
He could hear him laugh as he dove back through the portal. Asshole.
~~~
It was almost embarrassing how easily the four Mortys wormed their way into his heart. They barely even had to do anything, heck the Greaser kid practically fell asleep as soon as he got there!
In fact now they were all passed out, forming a dog pile on the one bed in the house. As cute as can be of course. Stan felt like he was probably getting cavities.
"Goddammit..." He couldn't help but mutter as he took a swing of cheap whisky. These kids didn't deserve all the misfortune they'd been given. And they deserved better then whatever Rick thought they could provide them. Stan could already feel a mess of questions storm through his head, only slightly numbed by the drink.
Where were they all going to sleep? Hell, what where they all going to eat? Cause Rick's diet of booze and the occasional can brown meat didn't sound ideal for a group of growing kids. And how would people react to seeing them now with four identical kids? Sure he could try and say they were quadruplets or something but that still wouldn't help explain where they came from. Would they need to go to school?
Whatever happened now, Stan knew it was too late for him to gather the courage to kick them out. He was already attached. And he wasn't about to let these kids, these complete strangers to this dimension, try and fend for themselves. But would living in a toilet with him and Rick be any better?
He sighed, twirling the last drips of liquid around. "Goddammit, I shouldn't of drank whisky... I can't protect them."
~~~
When he went back to check on the drugs, Rick was there with a yet another Morty. This one had a more feminine appearance with long hair pulled back. They also seemed incredibly exhausted, swaying while they tried to stay awake. Stan quickly guided her towards the couch but grabbed Rick's hand before he could portal away.
"Rick!" He hissed, trying not to wake up any of the Mortys in the house. "Where are all these kids even coming from!"
"Everyone at the Citadel is getting into this fight club thing? I don't really know what it is but they're practically giving all these Mortys away so I though 'Hey! Why not get some free labor out of this!' Plus I knew you'd like a few of them."
"What. the. hell. Rick! Are they all gonna stay here?"
"Yep!"
"But we can barely take care of ourselves!"
Rick seemed to ignore Stan's worries, and instead handed him a giant pink egg. "Hold that thought, I still got one more Morty to get."
"Rick? No!"
"Don't drop the egg and get it somewhere warm. I'll be right back."
"Rick!" Stan warned, "Don't you dare!"
But he was already gone. Again.
Peering deeply into the egg, he could see the fuzzy shape of a baby curled up near the center. One of its tiny fists reached out and it looked directly at Stan with big innocent eyes.
He sighed, setting the thing carefully onto a pillow. "What the hell has my life even become?"
~~~
"Ok, there's just one more."
"No Rick!"
"Oh come on Stan! We're, we're giving them a better life!"
"We're making space meth in the other room!"
"Stan listen-"
"No! No more Mortys! We can't afford to feed a bazillion more people, Rick!"
"No, Stan it's ok. He doesn't need that much food."
Stan ran both hands irritatedly through his hair. "Look Rick, I wanna help out as many of these kids as you do but we literally can't afford to take care of anymore Mortys. How are we even gonna take care of the kids we have now!"
"Don't worry about it, Stan. This is the last one." A quiet 'for now' was muttered under his breath but Stan decided to ignore it.
Sighing, Stan felt himself cave in, "Ok fine, as long as he's the last one." It dawned on him a little too late that Rick had jumped back through the portal alone. "Wait, so where is he?"
"Right here!" Rick announced, reaching into his pocket and carefully bringing out a tiny figure and cupping his hands around it. In his hands was an itty-bitty little Morty the resembled a kids toy more then it did a living sentient person. But when Stan looked closer, he could see the kid blink and even the barely-macroscopic rise and fall of his chest.
"... Holy shit that's adorable."