Chapter Text
It had been one week since the incident with Mr. Jellybean and Morty didn’t know how much longer he could take this. Everywhere he turned he thought he saw that disgusting creature. Every brush of a hand against him left him tensing and holding his breath. He didn’t understand why this was happening. He thought that this would go away like all of his other traumas. He would experience something worse and it would overshadow all of his other problems. But so far nothing else has happened. In fact, Rick had been taking him on less adventures recently. So the only thing he could think about was him , and what he did. It was wearing down on him.
One day he heard Summer talking loudly on her phone with one of her friends about a party she was having. He heard something about drugs and alcohol being there and Summer offering to steal some of Rick’s drugs to bring. He slid out of the heap of blankets he had on top of him and snuck over to Summer’s bedroom door. When he heard her hang up he knocked quietly and walked into her room before she could respond.
“Summer-” he began.
“What the hell do you want, Morty?” She asked, annoyed. Probably because he barged into her room.
“I heard you talking about a party, and I was wondering-” She interrupted him again.
“You’re not going, at least not with me.” She said, even more annoyed because he was snooping on her conversations.
“Okay, jeez… Well, uhm.” He paused, unsure of how he should ask this. “W-what would you do if you couldn’t get something off of your mind? And it was like, really bothering you..? And making you, like, paranoid?” He said as he finally managed to turn his thoughts into words.
“I don’t know, I'd probably do drugs at this party. Which you are still not going to by the way!” she said while looking at her phone and texting. She clearly wasn’t actually paying attention. She wouldn’t have basically told him to do drugs if she was. She may be a bitch sometimes, but she’s not a bad older sister.
“O-okay… uhm, thanks Summer.” Morty said quietly as he left Summer’s bedroom.
“Close my fucking door, Morty!” Summer yelled after him as he left her door wide open. He did not go back to close it.
She can get up to do it herself
, he thought.
Morty walked back to his bedroom and closed the door. He laid back down in bed and covered himself in his layers of blankets. Sometimes he couldn’t stand the feeling of them on top of him. It got too warm, which made him too warm. It reminded him of his breath wafting down on to him. But sometimes he needed warmth. He needed to feel like he wasn’t alone.
He ended up skipping dinner. Beth had walked up to his room, knocking on the door to tell him that dinner was ready and asked if he wanted some. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. He tried to, but all that came out was mumbles and grunts. Beth didn’t respond and walked away. Or maybe she did and he just didn’t hear her. It wouldn’t matter either way as she left and didn’t come back.
After a few hours everyone had gone to bed and it had been silent for a while. A few minutes later he heard the sound of Rick’s ship leaving. At first he just stayed in the same position he had been in for the last few hours, but he suddenly got an idea. He remembered Summer’s conversation about the party and drugs. Specifically Rick’s drugs. Rick has drugs, and Summer thinks I should use some. Well she never said that I should, she just said that she would if she were me… But the specifics don’t really matter, do they?
Morty managed to get out of bed and into the hallway with no mishaps. He walked down the stairs, effectively avoiding all of the creaky stairs out of habit. He made his way over to Rick’s bedroom and with cautionary steps opened the door and walked inside.
He knew that Rick’s stash had to be in here because he knew pretty much every inch of the garage and he had never seen anything more than a few bottles of human beer. He knew that Rick has more than that since Rick rarely drinks human beer, yet he is always drunk and he gets high a lot.
Morty hoped he wouldn’t have to look too hard, he didn’t want to move too many things around. And for good reason. Luckily for Morty, Rick’s room is pretty barren. So he found his stash fairly fast. He grabbed one of the many bottles of alien alcohol that he saw and a little baggy of something powdery. Probably alien drugs. He put everything else back where he found it, exited Rick’s room, closed the door quietly, and snuck back up to his room.
Once Morty was in his room, he quietly closed his door and sat at his desk. He opened the bag of powder and sniffed it. The powder burnt his nose as he inhaled, but just that tiny whiff of the powdery substance had his blood pumping more than it had in last week. He felt exhilarated instantly. He didn’t know if he was supposed to snort this stuff, but it seemed to work anyway.
Morty dumped some of the powder out onto his desk and tried to straighten it into a line like he had seen in movies. When he got the line straight enough he bent over and tried to snort it. As he inhaled through his nose he spluttered and coughed. His sinuses burned so much, but he could feel the effects immediately. He slumped back in his chair and his head lolled to the side slightly. His vision blurred around the edges. He felt so light, like he was floating, and so heavy, like he was being pushed under water at the same time. I haven’t ever felt this good, not once in my life.
He struggled to get his limbs to cooperate with him, but he managed to grab the bottle of alcohol and open it. He spilled some of the liquid on his shirt before he got the mouth of the bottle to his lips. “Shit..” He said. Once he got the bottle positioned at his mouth he paused for a moment. Should I?... Well, I already have it. And I don’t know when Rick will get back. And I already opened it… He tried to stop overthinking and tipped the bottle back. The liquid tasted as if fire and nail polish remover had a child, but once again he could feel the effects immediately. He struggled through the rest of the bottle. He knew that he should have saved the rest of what he brought to his room for another night. But he couldn’t help himself and ended up using the rest of everything he stole that night.
The next morning he woke up on his floor. His shirt and hair sweat through completely. His head ached and throbbed in waves and his gut felt like he was being sat on. He could barely get himself to move. Ugh, what the fuck was I thinking? I’m so stupid.. I can’t believe that I stole from Rick! He’s going to know! Suddenly Morty heard knocking on his door, it was his mom.
“Morty! Wake up! You didn’t eat dinner last night so I want you to come eat breakfast with us! Your father left already and Summer is with her friends, so it’s just you, Rick, and I.” Beth spoke through the door before hesitantly walking away.
Morty groaned as his stomach turned in on itself at the thought of food. Nevertheless, he got up and changed. His shirt smelt like sweat and alcohol… God I stink, I need to shower. Morty groans at the thought, he doesn’t have the energy for anything right now. Especially standing long enough to shower.
Morty makes his way down the stairs quietly and slowly sits in his seat at the table. Beth sets a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes in front of him. The smell makes him gag slightly. The fatty bacon makes his skin crawl and the sweetness of the pancakes makes his stomach lurch. He’s sure the only thing he could stomach right now was some of his eggs.
Rick walks in and immediately notices Morty’s sickly state. He eyes him for a while, suspicious. Rick knows that Morty was at home all night as none of the sensors told him that someone left while he was gone. Stop staring at me, please..
“So, Morty. Why do you look like you’re on the verge of death right now?” Rick asks bluntly. Eyes fixed on Morty’s face and body language. Fuck…
“I don’t know Rick…” Morty mumbles out as he pushes his food around on his plate. Please drop it.
“You’re such a bad liar Morty. But whatever, keep your fucking secrets.” Rick spits out. He starts to ignore Morty, talking to Beth instead. Complimenting her cooking skills. But while Rick talks to Beth, he secretly keeps an eye on Morty. Why is he still watching me? Does he know?? Fuck I need to shower. I can smell myself...
Rick won’t admit it, but he is worried about Morty. Ever since the incident with that fucking freak of nature, Morty has been weird. And rightfully so in Rick’s opinion. But he was worried regardless of the rightfulness. Morty hasn’t been eating enough, he’s been super jumpy, and he hasn’t showered once in the last week. Now he’s acting like he has a hangover? Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been eating or drinking enough. Either way, Rick knows something is wrong.