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"Morty's a dog."
Through their psychic link, Morty had heard Summer say that in her head, probably not even realizing she'd done so, and he realized Rick must have just said that to her and she repeated it without a second thought.
Morty desperately wanted to deny it.
After all, Rick didn't actually think that about him.
Did he?
The more Morty thought about that statement, the more horrified and ashamed he grew as he realized just how true it was.
No matter how many dangerous situations Rick put him in or how many times he was insulted by Rick, Morty just obediently and loyally trailed after him like a lost little puppy, waiting to bask in the praise he'd get whenever he'd done a good job. The one time Rick had dumped Morty for the two crows, he'd been desperate to start hanging out with Rick as soon as his grandpa had returned.
"Rick actually respects me?! Rick considers me an equal!"
That was the next thought he heard from Summer and, despite how excited his sister sounded, he couldn't have heard a more soul crushing admission.
How could Rick respect his sister so much, but so blatantly disrespect Morty? What did Summer have or do that he didn't?
Morty sank to his knees in the dark abyss as he realized just how little he must truly matter to Rick.
Not even once in the time he'd known Rick had he come anywhere close to considering Morty an equal. Sure, he would call Morty 'buddy' or even 'Junebug', but Morty knew he was a sidekick at best and a nuisance or a liability at worst.
The darkness of the already dim astral plane began to close in around him, but he didn't react, even as it started to swallow him up, drowning him in the shadows. He didn't even realize he'd begun closing his end of their psychic link off, until he noticed how faint Summer's voice was as she called out to him across their bond. He knew he should have stopped, should have focused on keeping the connection open so they could find and rescue him, but he couldn't bring himself to "open his mind" anymore.
What was the point?
"Morty?" The muffled sound of her fading voice was panicked as she realized he wasn't answering her anymore. "Morty, are you there?! What's happening?! Are you okay?! Answer me!"
He didn't answer her.
He suddenly didn't care if they found him anymore.
It didn't fucking matter.
He didn't matter.
He opened his eyes, as someone approached him in the boat's medical area and he eyed the syringe the doctor was carrying. He'd been ready to fight for his freedom, to bite the hand that was about to inject him, but Morty could no longer find it in himself to care.
The probability of Rick and Summer rescuing him was extremely high, so Morty figured he probably wasn't even going to have to do a damn thing. He'd just be the damsel in distress, just like he always was.
"Easy there. It’ll all be over soon."
As the drugs began to circulate through his system, Morty could feel his eyes growing heavier and he welcomed the darkness, both in the astral plane and in the physical world.
~
"Grandpa Rick?! I can't hear Morty anymore. He won't answer me!"
"Fuck, we need to hurry." Rick didn't like what that could mean. Best case scenario, Morty had been drugged and worst case scenario, he could be-
Rick didn't even want to consider that.
It didn't take them long to find Kenneth, who didn't seem surprised to see them. In fact, he seemed rather thrilled about that and the reason became obvious a moment later when he proudly revealed he had his own kuato.
Rick wasn't entirely sure why Kenneth thought that'd be surprising. He was an asshole that trafficked people with kuatos, so it kinda of made sense that he'd have a kuato of his own. "That’s the reveal? You slide off?"
"You think I’m done revealing?"
Turns out Kenneth's kuato had its own kuato.
"But wait, if you’re dazzled now–"
"Okay, I see where this is going." Rick didn't have time for this Russian nesting doll kuato shit and, with an irritated sigh, pulled his gun out to shoot the creep who'd trafficked his grandkids.
"Jesus, Grandpa. What the hell?!"
"I don't know why you're acting surprised. This asshole kidnapped you and trafficked Morty. Did you really think I was gonna let him live?"
"Aw, Grandpa Rick." As fucked up as it was, Summer knew that was his own messed up way of admitting he loved them and had been worried for their safety.
"Shut up. We still need to find your brother." He turned on his heel and exited the room. The boat was large, which made sense, given that Kenneth made his money illegally trafficking kuatos, and that meant they were going to have to split up. "You go high, I'll go low."
As Summer took a set of stairs heading up, Rick poked around until he found a set of stairs that led down.
"Morty? You down here, Junebug?" Rick kept his gun drawn as he crept down the stairs. There was a doctor at the back of the room, cleaning the room up, and they both froze as they locked eyes. Rick didn't miss the way the man's eyes flicked over to the medical table. Rick followed his gaze and, when he realized he'd found Morty, he fired several shots into the doctor. As his body hit the floor, Rick hurried over to the table and ran a gentle hand over his kuato grandson. "Morty?"
Thankfully, his first assumption had been correct. Morty had indeed been drugged, but other than that, he seemed to be relatively unharmed.
"Oh, thank fuck." Rick carefully scooped Morty off the medical table and cradled his grandson against his chest. "You're okay now, Junebug. Grandpa's got you."
~
Morty's eyes fluttered open and he realized he was no longer a kuato. He was just a regular fourteen year old kid again.
He was in the garage, laying on one of the countertops and, as he sat up, he could hear someone moving. He looked over to see both Rick and Summer sitting in chairs in the garage, clearly having been waiting for him to wake up.
"Morty!" Summer smiled brightly at him. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"Thank fuck, Morty!" Rick practically jumped out of his seat the second he'd seen Morty waking up and he was quick to look Morty over once he was within reach. "You scared the shit out of me!"
This was usually the point where Morty would cry and either thank Rick for showing up and saving his ass yet again or apologize for making such a mess of everything.
But he didn't do any of that.
He just sat there and glanced between his sister and grandpa. They both looked worried and it made Morty sick as he remembered Summer's unintentionally broadcasted thoughts.
"Are you alright? What's wrong, Junebug?"
"Don't call me that." Morty flinched at the familiar nickname, blurting out those words before he could stop himself. He didn't know why Rick would bother acting so concerned when he clearly thought so little of Morty. "I.... I d-d-don't..... I'm just.... I think I'm going to go lay down. I'm tired."
He was acting weird.
He knew it, Summer knew it, and Rick most certainly knew it.
As soon as Rick reached out for him, mouth opening to likely ask him why he was acting the way he was, Morty jumped off the counter and hurried out of the garage.
Summer worriedly glanced up at Rick and didn't miss the hurt expression he was wearing. "What the hell is his problem?"
Rick felt uneasy as he watched Morty flee the garage in a hurry. He had no idea why Morty was acting like this and if Summer was suspicious too, then that meant she was also currently in the dark on the reason for Morty's behavior. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."
He knew he probably should have given Morty space. For whatever reason, it appeared Morty didn't want to be around either him or Summer, or maybe both of them, at the moment. But he followed Morty upstairs, only to find his grandson's room empty when he opened the door. However, the window was wide open, which likely meant Morty was sitting up on the roof. Rick carefully climbed out and, when he reached the roof, he was relieved to see he'd been right.
"Hey."
Fuck.
Morty really needed to stop coming up here. Rick knew he liked to hang out on the roof, so it wasn't exactly a great place to lay if he didn't want to be bothered.
He knew he should have responded, should have said 'hey' back, or even simply waved. Instead, he continued to lay back and stare up at the night sky, completely ignoring the fact that Rick was staring down at him.
Morty was moping. There was no other accurate word for it and Rick didn't know what had caused the unexplainable moodiness in his grandson. What disturbed him more was recalling the way Morty actually flinched when he used the nickname he reserved solely for Morty and his immediate and sudden rejection of the nickname Rick had used so many times before. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Short, irritated tone.
Something was definitely wrong.
"Don't fucking lie to me. I know something is wrong. You can tell me."
That rubbed Morty the wrong way, Rick demanding to know what was wrong, then trying to backtrack by acting nice. He pushed himself to his feet, fully intending to go down to his room and actually go to bed, but Rick blocked his path.
When Rick leaned forward and grabbed his arm, Morty immediately leapt away as if he'd been burnt. He let out a shocked cry as he came dangerously close to the edge of the roof, but a hand grabbed his wrist and quickly yanked him away. The air was knocked out of Morty's lungs as he collided with Rick's chest and he had to force himself not to pull away when Rick held him close.
"You fucking idiot. Are you trying to kill yourself?!" Morty was tense. Rick could feel the tension in his grandson's muscles as he gently squeezed Morty's shoulders. He had no idea what was going on in Morty's head right now and it pissed him off because Rick could usually read him like an open book. Unless.....
......it's because Morty was purposely hiding something from him. Had something traumatizing happened before they rescued him on the boat? "Morty, what's going on with you? Did those traffickers..... do something to you? Did they.... touch you?"
Morty wanted to throw up. Why? Why was Rick so fucking concerned? He hadn't given a fuck any other time Morty was upset, so why was this time so different. Was Rick faking it? Did he actually care? Morty had no idea anymore.
Morty used to crave moments like this, where he was the sole focus of Rick's attention and that concerned gaze and gentle tone were quick to comfort him. But now it felt fake and he didn't know if it was or not. You couldn't love someone if you didn't respect them and Rick CLEARLY didn't respect him......
He shoved Rick away and put some distance between them, making sure to stay far from the edge of the roof this time. "No, for fuck's sake, Rick. I'm just.... its been a long day and I'm exhausted, okay? I just want to go to sleep and forget this whole shit show."
"Junebug, please. Tell Grandpa what's wrong. I'll do whatever the fuck I have to to fix this, you know I will." Morty froze at his plea, letting out a soft sigh as he turned around, and Rick thought he'd finally gotten through, but that hope was dashed when Morty only gave him a sad smile.
"There's nothing to fix." He carefully walked back up the slope of the roof, heading towards his room and hoped he wouldn't be followed this time. "Goodnight, Rick."
~
It finally reached a point where Rick could no longer ignore it.
Rick burst into Morty's bedroom, hoping for a trip to Blips and Chitz or some fun, lighthearted adventure, but he was surprised to find Morty asleep in bed. His grandson jolted awake when his door was thrown open and he blearily stared up at Rick.
"What the hell, Rick?"
"Morty, get your ass up. It's the middle of the day. We're going on an adventure."
Morty simply groaned and flopped back down, pulling the covers up over his head. "I don't want to, Rick. Just take Summer or something."
That irritated Rick.
If he wanted to go on an adventure with Summer, he would have fucking gone to her and not Morty. He knew it was going to piss Morty off, but he strolled forward and yanked his grandson's covers away, pulling him from his bed.
Morty clearly hadn't been expecting that and struggled to escape from Rick's grasp. "What the fuck?! Let go of me!"
"Nope! It's you and me, buddy. Rick and Morty, a hundred years. Not Rick and Summer, a hundred years. We're going to have ourselves a nice, fun adventure."
It was not a nice, fun adventure.
They were on a new planet and had unfortunately gotten caught in an earthquake. Rick was trying to get them back to the ship as soon as possible. The quakes on this planet were a whole different level of catastrophic.
Like 'earth splitting open' kind of catastrophic.
And that's exactly what had happened.
A deep rift had formed beneath their feet as they were running. Rick had immediately jumped the rapidly widening chasm and had been ready to keep running.
Until he realized Morty was no longer at his side.
He jerked to a stop and immediately turned on his heel to find Morty standing on the other side of the chasm, frozen in place and looking absolutely scared shitless. "Morty, you have to jump."
"JUMP?!" Morty's eyes widened at that and, after a quick glance down at the earth crumbling away in front him, he frantically shook his head. There was no way he would make that jump. "No fucking way!"
"Come on. I'll catch you. Don't you trust me?"
A week ago, Morty's answer would have been an immediate and unwavering 'yes', but now.....
Morty didn't know if he could trust Rick and that scared him.
He should have answered, because no answer WAS still an answer and he didn't miss the look of hurt on Rick's face.
As more ground crumbled away in front of him, Morty took a few hesitant steps backwards. The earthquake was still happening and Morty could feel the ground vibrating beneath his feet. If he didn't move, there was a good chance of him falling through the ground, but even that wasn't enough motivation for him to try and jump the chasm in front of him.
This was bad. Rick had somehow lost his grandson's trust.
The trust that hadn't wavered when he'd accidentally sent Morty back to Earth Prime, where he was attacked by Prime.
The trust that hadn't wavered after a group of Ricks kidnapped him to sell to other Ricks and then beat the shit out of him.
The trust that hadn't wavered even after he'd been turned into a kuato and trafficked.
He had no idea why that trust in him was now gone, but his grandson couldn't have picked a worst time to lose faith. "MORTY! I need you to trust me. I can't help you if you don't trust me."
Summer wouldn't need Rick to catch her. She'd find a way to get across on her own. In fact, she would probably risk jumping and would likely make it all by herself.
And then there was Morty, yet again needing Rick's help.
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE! FUCKING JUMP, MORTY! NOW!"
"O-okay. S-stop..... stop yelling." Morty braced himself and took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He took a few steps back and then got a running start, but the second he put weight on his left foot to leap across the gap, the ground disappeared beneath his foot. His heart leapt into his throat as he began to fall and, his mistrust be damned, he reached out to Rick.
Rick lunged forward as soon as Morty began to fall, but he was just a second too late and his hand closed around empty air. "MORTY!"
He didn't hesitate, all thoughts of getting back to the ship pushed to the back of his mind, and jumped into the chasm after his grandson. Rick squinted his eyes as the sunlight was replaced with the darkness of underground caves. He couldn't see shit anymore and his panic grew as he realized he wasn't going to be able to find and save Morty like this. He activated the night vision in his eyes and, spotting a flash of yellow far below him, he angled his body to eliminate as much wind resistance as he could and pick up speed. It only took a few minutes to close the distance between them and Rick reached out, but Morty was either ignoring him or didn't realize he was there. "Morty? Grab my hand, buddy! Morty!"
His grandson wasn't answering and it soon became obvious why that was. Morty's eyes were closed, his face peaceful as his unconscious body fell towards certain death. There was blood coating his face and soaking into his shirt, though Rick couldn't tell where it was coming from.
He stretched his arm out again, his fingers just barely brushing against Morty's sleeve.
He had to hurry.
They were likely nearing the ground and, while Rick could probably survive such a fall with all the cybernetic enhancements he had, Morty would most definitely not survive. He refused to let Morty die.
Rick tried again and, the minute his fingers closed around fabric, he used every bit of strength he possessed to pull Morty towards him. As soon as Morty was securely in his arms, Rick rotated his body midair, so his grandson was laying on top of him.
Just as he predicted, they were rapidly approaching the ground and Rick grunted in pain as his spine suddenly and painfully collided with the stone beneath them. He had never been more thankful for his cybernetics. If he had a regular spine, he certainly would have ended up paralyzed from the impact. Didn't mean it wasn't still painful though. "Spinal cord, activate morphine."
As the drug released into his system, the pain faded away and Rick finally eased himself into a sitting position to check Morty over.
There was a jagged cut running the length of his grandson's forehead and Rick tried not to worry about how much blood was spilling from the wound. It was a head wound and head wounds bled a lot. Morty would likely be fine.
He was unfortunately proven wrong a second later.
Morty suddenly returned to consciousness with a strangled gasp and scrambled out of Rick's arms as he began gagging. Rick's eyes widened when Morty vomited up bright red blood.
Vomiting up blood meant internal bleeding.
Morty must have been hit by debris as he fell, or perhaps the impact had been too much for his small body to handle, even with Rick's attempt to shield him.
"Morty, come here. Let grandpa heal you." His directions went ignored as Morty collapsed to his knees and Rick moved closer to pull Morty into his arms once more. It was only then that Morty seemed to realize Rick was with him and he began struggling. Morty weakly shoved at Rick's chest, trying to push him away. He didn't have the strength to actually get away, but the fact that he was fighting so hard both scared Rick and pissed him off. "Are you trying to fucking die?! Because that's what's going to happen if you don't let me help you! You have internal bleeding, Morty!"
"I DO WANT TO DIE. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO FUCKING HEAR?" Morty cried out and curled in on himself as his outburst jarred his already throbbing abdomen. "Why does it even matter? Stop acting like you fucking care!"
That shout disturbed Rick greatly.
He couldn't think of anything that had happened between them recently to have put that thought into Morty's head. He couldn't understand why his grandson would even think such a thing. OBVIOUSLY he would care if Morty fucking died.
As much as he wanted to confront Morty about that, Rick had to ignore the outburst for the moment, in order to focus on the more dire problem at hand.
"I'm sorry for this, Junebug, but you aren't leaving me any choice." Rick laid Morty flat against the ground and knelt on top of his grandson's arms to keep him from fighting against Rick. He yanked the hem of Morty's shirt up, grimacing at dark purple splotch and the swelling along his stomach, both obvious signs of internal bleeding.
"STOP! GE'OFF ME." Despite his protests, Morty was in far too much pain to do anything other than lay there. Struggling, talking, and even breathing was difficult. He could only lay trapped against the ground, tears streaming down his bloodied face, and watch as Rick reached into his labcoat for something.
Rick pulled out a syringe of healing serum. He'd grabbed some before their last adventure and had thankfully forgot to remove it from his labcoat after they'd gotten home. He was quick to inject the serum into Morty's abdomen and only moved once the ugly purple bruise had faded and the swelling disappeared.
As soon as Rick moved off of him, Morty scrambled away until he was out of arms reach. Sure, he was thankful his abdomen no longer hurt and he was grateful that he wasn't trapped deep underground by himself, but Rick was the last person he wanted with him right now.
There was no way Rick was going to just ignore his sudden outburst and Morty wasn't sure he was ready to have that conversation.
Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have other plans for him.
"Just so you know, I absolutely would care if you died." Morty didn't answer him and Rick snuck a glance at him just to make sure he hadn't passed out again. But Morty was fully conscious, sitting there and blankly staring through Rick. "Where the fuck did you get the idea that I wouldn't?"
Instead of answering the question, Morty simply changed the subject. "Do you think I'm a dog?"
Rick was confused by the random question and he tried to think back to any conversation they'd had where he might have said such a thing. He realized he couldn't remember having that conversation with Morty because it hadn't happened. That conversation had been between him and Summer. Rick had no idea how Morty knew about that, but he shouldn't have been surprised that his grandson would take offense to it. "That's what this is about?"
Morty couldn't stop the anger that flared up. Rick was acting so nonchalant about this, as if that wasn't one of the most offensive things Morty had ever heard Rick say about him. "Yes, that's what this is about!"
"Do you know why I even said that, Morty?"
"Because you don't fucking respect me? Because I don't learn my lesson and keep following you around like an idiot? Because apparently SUMMER is your fucking equal and I'M A FUCKING DOG!"
Shit.
The chances of Rick explaining himself and this situation and Morty actually listening to him were rapidly dropping.
"It's not like that, Morty-"
Morty finally met Rick's gaze and glared up at him. "Oh really? Then please, Rick. Please fucking enlighten me and let me know exactly what you meant when you called me a dog."
Rick studied Morty for a moment, his face flushed red with anger, his eyes shining with tears, his small hands clenched into fists. He had fucked up big time. This was a conversation they should have had a long, long time ago and, if Rick had known it was bothering Morty so much, he would have brought it up sooner. "I called you a dog, Morty, because you ARE one. Just like a dog, you are fiercely loyal and give unconditional love without expecting anything in return. Even when your family - hell, even when I don't deserve it."
That....
....is not what Morty had been expecting, but it seems Rick wasn't done explaining himself yet.
"Summer isn't like you. She only comes to me because she knows I can do things for her. Her ponytail, the wolverine claws, the attribute slider. I'm only her favorite person because of the things I give her, which is why I make her do all of the fucking chores, by the way. Once she gets what she wants, she fucks off until she needs something else from me. If you are a dog, then Summer is absolutely a cat."
Morty hadn't even thought about it that way. He liked hanging out with Rick because Rick was his favorite person. Summer liked hanging out with Rick because of the tech he could provide for her.
While that did clear some things up, it didn't fix everything. There was still one thing Summer had said that Rick had yet to explain.
"Rick actually respects me?! Rick considers me an equal!"
"But you don't respect me. Not like you do with Summer. You treat her like an equal."
Rick couldn't say anything to dispute that because Morty was actually right. He did have a bad habit of treating Summer as a more independent, self-sufficient person. But perhaps, that's because she was. She didn't care to rely on Rick for things, unlike Morty. That didn't make it right though. "You're right and that's fucked up of me."
Even though Rick had been getting better about it, he could still lose count of how many times he had disrespected or looked down on his grandson recently. "I don't always respect you, do I?"
While it was nice to hear Rick actually acknowledge his fuck ups, it didn't make Morty feel any better. In fact, it actually made him feel worse and it didn't take him long to figure out why. He knew Mortys were mistreated, neglected, abused and ignored by most Smith families across all dimensions, but somehow Morty always thought he'd be the outlier. Rick cared for him, he told himself. Rick loved him. But now, Morty wasn't so sure of that. "It feels like I don't matter and maybe I don't. That's fine. I've never fucking mattered to anyone in this family, in any dimension I've been in. I suppose that's just how it is for Mortys, huh? Including me. I guess.... I guess I'm just glad you haven't replaced me yet."
Those words horrified Rick.
He hadn't thought it was such a big deal that he didn't always treat Morty with the same respect as he did Summer, but to find out that Morty felt like he didn't matter to anyone, not even to Rick. Morty just considered himself an insignificant, unimportant number among all the other Mortys out there.
"Don't EVER fucking say that. I will never, ever replace you." Morty opened his mouth, no doubt to likely interrupt, and Rick was quick to talk over him. "I will have this conversation with you as many times as I need to, Morty. I will never fucking replace you. Your parents? Sure. Summer? Yes. But you, Morty, are the only thing I wouldn't be able to replace. I'd kill myself before even considering replacing you. You matter to me. Far more than you even know and I'm sorry if I've made you feel worthless."
Tears welled in Morty's eyes at that. It was often hard to tell when Rick was being genuine, especially when he said things that could easily be misconstrued, like Morty being a dog. He scrubbed his tears away and when he lowered his hands, he found Rick's arms held open to him.
"Come here, Junebug." Morty didn't hesitate and, as soon as he was within reach, Rick tightly held Morty against him. He could feel his grandson's shoulders shaking, no doubt from crying, and he gently rubbed circles into Morty's back. "Don't you ever think, for a second, I don't care, Morty. I love you more than you know. Even if I don't say it a lot."
"Do you love me more than Summer?" Morty's voice was quiet and when Rick looked down, he could see a mischievous little smile on his grandson's face.
What a manipulative little turd.
"Maybe. But don't tell your sister that or I will deny it so fucking hard."
"Deal." Morty laughed, loud and bright, and Rick had never heard a more wonderful sound. It'd been a while since he'd heard Morty laugh like that and he'd do whatever he needed to hear that sound again.