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Summary
Rick stood swaying slightly in the doorway to Morty's room, silhouetted by the hallway light behind him, a gaunt looming figure framed by the door. He blinked blearily, colours and shapes fuzzing and blending together, reaching a hand out to steady himself on the doorframe. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he reached instinctively for his flask even though he really didn't need it. A quick shake revealed it was empty anyway. Of course it was.