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Morty Smith is an awkward and clumsy fourteen year old boy that finds himself in correlating situations particularly often–even his name, Morty Smith, is so awkward to say, and even more uncomfortable to think about! It’s like his parents just scrambled random letters around until they got something they liked. Although, his dad’s name is Jerry Smith, so he can’t complain.
And because of his clumsiness, he tends to mess things up. At least, that’s what his grandpa Rick tells him. Rick isn’t exactly the type to let Morty off easy when such things occur, so usually Morty’s embarrassing moments are caused by Rick himself; they always are, for all the Mortys across the many different universes. Rick is a Rick after all; not giving a rat’s ass about things other than science, finding the version of Rick that killed his wife, and alcohol.
Not caring about Morty was one of the reasons the Citadel was created. That way if your Morty dies on an adventure, you can get a new one! There are labs that are made to specifically clone Mortys, and even a school that teaches Mortys to be the best they can be for Ricks. Morty thinks the whole system’s pathetically stupid. He saw first hand the difference in respect that the Mortys receive from the Ricks, and how Ricks use it to their advantage. Morty Smith even made an attempt to change it once before, giving the prisoner Mortys a reason to fight, but he’s just a Morty like the rest of them—even though he helped lead the attack—so what can he do?
Well, Morty Smith thought like that until he met a certain Morty that changed his mind, that gave him confidence in his ideas. Evil Morty, the second hand man that helped the prisoner Mortys’ alongside him. Evil Morty didn’t do anything in particular, he simply stood at his side while holding a clip board, observing.
Evil Morty has a thick black eyepatch over his right eye, strikingly noticeable over his pale leveled face. The eye that’s exposed to the world is always slightly narrowed in like he never cares about anything, and he really doesn’t, but that uninterested eye also shoots out a powerful shade of blue that’s so bright that the color almost looks robotic.
The stereotype—more like a prototype—for Mortys is nervous and submissive, making all of them have wide eyes. But Evil Morty was completely different from the others! His short light brown curly hair is the same, his small teen structure didn’t change, but his eyes showed a version of Morty that Morty Smith has never met before–and he’s met many of his kind. One that was filled to the brim with irritation and agitation from all that’s around him.
When the prisoner Mortys attacked all the Ricks around, pulling them apart to mushy bloody pieces, Evil Morty blent into the crowd, and disappeared from Morty’s vision. Morty met him for the first time that day, and hasn’t seen him since. It’s been months, and every chance that Rick forces him to sneak into the Citadel with him—which is pretty often, at least twice a week—Morty glances around to try and find the familiar robotic glaring eye of Evil Morty’s.
Just like normal—since that mission—Morty couldn’t stop thinking about Evil Morty, his face twirling around all of his thoughts like a horribly catchy song. Morty thought about him at school, he thought about him in his bedroom, and even as Rick dragged him drunkenly through one of his portals, Evil Morty’s face didn’t sway from his mind.
“E-Earth to Morty!” Rick snapped his fingers in Morty’s face, and Morty blinked back into reality, scratching his head.
“Huh? Uh– S-Sorry, Rick!” Morty stumbled over his words very awkwardly, looking around at where they were walking. All different types of Ricks and Mortys walked around with each other. The two just walked past the school for Mortys. They’re at the citadel again, and without warning to Morty this time. When Rick stops by, it’s usually to get more information on the version of Rick that killed his wife. Rick hates the citadel, and the federation hates him back because he hates the place. He’s the most Rick of all the Ricks. “Why’re we at the citadel today? G-Get any more info?”
“I ran out of—buuuurrrrp—a certain fluid that helps make portal j-juice. I know a guy who sells it.” Rick vaguely explained.
“You’re saying that like it’s illegal.”
“That’s because it is, Morty.” Rick retorted.
“Can’t you just m-make it or something? Why’re w-we doing illegal business shit in the citadel of all places?!” Morty cried. “Aren’t they after you?!”
“It’s only illegal if we—buuuurrrrp—get caught. And we will if you don’t shut up!”
Morty wearily stopped talking without a moment spared, deciding to take a look around since it’d been a couple weeks since they had stopped by. In Morty’s search for something to catch his eye throughout the rowdy town, the heading of a newspaper while they passed by caught his attention. He stopped walking and took the paper from a Morty sitting on a bench.
“There’s a Morty president now?” Morty took a double take, letting a tiny smile slip. “We really haven’t been back in a while.”
“Shit, they actually went t-through with the election? I really thought it was rigged.” Rick replied like the fact of the matter was a joke, something to laugh about.
Morty didn’t care to listen to his drunk grandpa go on and on about “how incapable Mortys are of doing anything” any longer, so he simply diverted his attention elsewhere some more, ignoring whatever else came out of his mouth. Because really, what’s so wrong with a Morty being president? The way Mortys are treated needs to change after all, and who’s better at understanding the need if not a Morty? And besides, the only reason there’s a Morty president in the first place is because Rick killed the old set of Ricks that were in charge of the citadel. So it’s on him, and he asked for it.
Morty laughed inwardly as he thought up all of this, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. With a Morty for president, he himself felt confident and proud of being a Morty.
That is, until the two took a turn into the beaten down outskirts of town, where the abandoned Mortys reside. They’re either homeless, barely alive, doing crime, or all three. And the small number of Ricks that decided to stick around here were the ones that encouraged the Mortys’ behavior. Morty sometimes tags along when Rick ventures around these parts, but it’s never looked this bad!
Walking through the shambles of this city block covered in destruction, flickering lights, broken windows, vines of all sorts of weeds, and the smell of death, made Morty rethink whether having a Morty for president is a good thing. He hunched into himself, ashamed that he’s putting the stereotypical blame onto another Morty.
“Wow!” Rick took a deep breath in. “Look at a-all the progress president—buuuurrrrp—Morty has made with the place!” Rick sarcastically cheered, wiping the drunken drool from his thin chapped lips, beginning to chug some more alcohol from his flask.
“Oh shut the fuck up, Rick!” Morty’s face contorted to annoyance.
“Hey, don’t get—buuuurrrrp—pissy at the messenger, M-M-Morty. I’m not the one who elected a Morty to be the president.” Rick reminded, holding his arms up in defense.
“You made an opening for one, though.” Morty criticized, raising an eyebrow smugly to show that he was right.
“Listen here you little–”
“Is that the place up ahead?” Morty asked. In his view, but not so far away, lies a building with a couple of neon signs.
“None of your Rick-ness!” One of the signs read.
“Now that’s a way to attract customers.” Morty thought aloud.
“This Rick takes risks to have inventory. He’s inspirational.” Rick replied, starting to walk closer to the beaten down building. “Now let me just get my shit so we can—buuuurrrrp—leave. I fucking hate this place.”
“Must have quite an agenda ahead for the two of you if you must leave so quickly, Rick C-137, Morty.” An ominous sounding Morty spoke from behind the two of them, and they froze in place, not daring to move. It wasn’t only this particular Morty standing around and creeping up on the two, many other Ricks were there, holding clocked guns pointed at their backs. Whoever this Morty is, he must’ve been a very strong Morty to sneak up undetected like this.
The Mortys that live out in the slums are unpredictable, so neither Rick nor Morty wanted to take a chance. So instead, they focused their energy differently.
“We were followed?” Rick harshly whispered. “Why’d you let them fucking f-follow us?!”
“I-It wasn’t on purpose, I-I swear!” Morty stuttered a whisper in reply. “I didn’t notice them!”
“Do a better job next time!” Rick grumbled his yell, then sighed aggravatingly. “Listen Morty—buuuurrrrp—don’t worry. Just run, somewhere far, and I’ll come get you after I deal with these g-guys.”
“A-Alright!” Morty complied, readying his feet to dash away.
Rick then turned around to face the Morty that held the two of them at gun point.
“Oh shit, it’s the shitty president taking a break from doing a shitty job to greet us in—buuuurrrrp—a shitty manner.” Rick snarked, and Morty couldn’t help but turn around as well to take a glance. Morty turned around, even raising his arms into the air.
“Holy shit! It really is the president!” Morty said, astonished. He was wide eyed, frozen in place. Morty didn’t expect to see the president in the outskirts, and after the two of them of all people! But, Rick always makes him stay on the down low whenever they’re in town, so it isn’t exactly surprising. Although, a little bit of hope for the future of the citadel returned to Morty from how quickly president Morty and his team were able to track down Rick and find him even though the two had only been in town for twenty or so minutes.
Rick then glanced down at star eyed Morty, and rolled his eyes. Rick cleared his throat looking back up at the stern Morty, holding a gun fiercely aimed at Rick’s chest. “Listen, president Morty, I think—buuuurrrrp—It’s nice of you t-to stop by and greet us at the door. But just–” Rick then audibly groaned, cracked his back, and reached into his lab coat. “Ah f-fuck it. Confrontation isn’t my thing.” he pulled his gun out and started shooting at the group of Ricks, not missing a single one. Morty stood still. “Fucking move– run, dumbass!!” Rick ordered, and Morty jumped to action like a wartime soldier, skedaddling away as far and as quickly as he possibly could.
Morty didn’t run far, he ran behind the building and rushed in through the back. The best hiding place is the place the enemy least expects. All the Ricks probably assumed that Morty ran through the town, but he doesn’t have enough stamina for that.
Morty slammed the door closed after him, bending over his knees once he was alone in the unknown place. The easy part was over, and now he had to hide in order to escape getting caught and taken to the citadel court again. But either way, he can still get caught hiding and get taken away, or just get caught out in the open and get taken away, so he’s choosing the option that’ll give him more time.
The room Morty locked himself into was at the back of the illegal store Rick buys from sometimes, and it must’ve been the storage room because there were boxes upon boxes of God knows what–but the important part of this illegal storage room was that everything is most likely—as said many times—illegal! So that means, there aren't huge windows blaring in light, just a couple small thin rectangles at the very tippity top of the room, making the space very dark and shadowy. It’s the perfect hiding place! Morty really lucked out this time, and he’s never lucky!
Morty stacked a couple of heavy boxes on top of each other, and with his frail thin arms that hold no strength at all, he pushed the boxes to a far away corner while grunting. Now all Morty had to do was hide. Morty pushed himself behind the boxes and crouched to the ground uncomfortably; when Morty pushed the boxes, he was only focusing on making the stack look like a normal stack of boxes in a corner, not whether the boxes were distanced enough from the wall for him to sit comfortably! So, Morty’s shoulder blades were squishing into the wall behind him—due to his arms being pinned up at his sides—and his shins were also uncomfortably gaining lines and harsh marks from the creases and sharp edges on the boxes. Morty couldn’t move whether he wanted to or not. If anything, Morty wasn’t hiding in this dark room, he was stuck! And if anyone from the citadel finds him, he’s toast!
Morty didn’t have a sense of time in that desolate room hidden behind boxes, but it hadn’t been a long time before he heard familiar unstable footsteps coming towards the room. The door then opened with a yank, and Morty hitched a breath. He didn’t know for sure whether those steps were his Rick’s or not. The person walked circles around the room until they finally stopped and let a cracky sigh out.
“I mimicked Rick C-137’s walking perfectly. I for sure thought that would work to lure you out.” President Morty’s disappointedly admitted.
Morty thought that one of the enemy Ricks would be after him since he’s a Morty, but a Morty, let alone the president of the citadel, was after him?! Morty hadn’t even done anything entirely wrong! Just following orders from his Rick, like all Mortys do! Morty gasped almost silently, but just airy enough to catch the president’s attention. Within a second, president Morty started hastily walking towards the stack of boxes Morty was hiding behind, changing his original trajectory. Morty’s heart fell to his ass when he glanced up and saw a small hand clawing at the top of the boxes to pull the stack down. Rick didn’t hand Morty a gun or anything to protect himself with if anything were to happen, or if he were to get caught, so what’s he gonna do if president Morty is actually able–
In one swift motion, president Morty got a good grip on the top box, pulling it down towards himself, making the rest of the stack topple down with it.
For just a quick moment when the boxes tilted down and revealed the powerful face of the Morty, his eyes glinted the same blue eyes that all of the Mortys share, but these eyes were different. This Morty glared down at Morty with thinned eyes that meant trouble; the blue of his swirling in his iris, almost illuminating Morty’s face with an evil bright blue glow.
Morty couldn’t mistake those eyes for any simple Morty, this had to be Evil Morty.
Morty’s hiding place was revealed, his knees bright pink from the pressure of his weight being held up against the boxes, and when the boxes fell, so did Morty. He fell onto his knees and hands with a light grunt, hiding his shameful face from getting caught so easily.
“That was pretty easy. If I’m being honest, I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” President Morty—who Morty is for sure convinced is Evil Morty—shrugged his shoulders, then crouched down to grab Morty by the collar of his yellow shirt.
Morty took this as an opening. Their heads were inches from each other. President Morty menacingly glared at Morty’s angry face. But Morty didn’t waste time, he leaned his head back as far as he could, and threw it forward, slamming his forehead into President Morty’s.
“Evil Morty, I know it’s you!” Morty accused, not skipping a beat.
“Guh!” President Morty let out an unexpected yelp, his head still moving back into place.
Evil Morty stared at Morty with his stern unbothered eyes. “So, you figured it out, huh?” Evil Morty’s grip on Morty’s collar loosened immediately, dropping Morty to his knees again. He used the same hand to retrieve his thick black eyepatch from his blazer’s side pocket.
“What the hell is this all for?! I thought we were on the same side or some shit! You helped out with the revolt of the prisoner Mortys, remember?!” Morty whined.
“You and your Rick go against all the laws and ethics of the citadel.” Evil Morty stepped back and straightened the tie of his light colored suit. “Not to mention how Rick C-137 is supposed to be dead. I’m only here to finish the job.”
“I c-can’t let that happen!” Morty was up on his feet and standing again, ready to pounce at Evil Morty at any moment–but Evil Morty had other plans. He reached his hand into the side of his light blue blazer, taking out a gun.
“I’m on no one’s side,” Evil Morty mentioned. “But I really don’t understand why you insist on saving your Rick– or any Rick for that matter.” Evil Morty started walking menacingly towards Morty, spinning his gun on the trigger around his finger as he spoke. Morty inched back, not knowing what to do at the moment. “Ricks don’t give two shits about Mortys, remember?! They don’t care whether we live or die, Morty.”
“Th-That may be true, but he’s still our grandpa, so b-back off!” Morty was beginning to get close to the corner wall where he originally hid and himself, and pushed Evil Morty to try and give himself time to move, but he didn’t budge. Instead, Evil Morty watched Morty somehow trip over the boxes underneath his feet and fall back into one with an oof!
Evil Morty stopped walking and stared down at this disappointing display of self-defense. “God you’re fucking clumsy. I forgot Mortys are like that.” he snickered at Morty. “I guess your Rick was right, you really do mess everything up.” he laughed. Evil Morty had no distinct expression on his black canvas of a face while catching the handle of the gun in his palm, and pointing the barrel at Morty’s head.
Morty huffed, not expecting to be in this situation at all. Evil Morty’s just a Morty just like himself! So why’s he stuck frozen in a box for christ’s sake?! Morty can admit that he’s been thinking about Evil Morty since the escape, and is stunned to see him in the flesh in front of him after subconsciously looking around for his familiar eyepatch throughout crowds, but now that he’s gotten the glance he’s wanted, why doesn’t he want to move? He can die at any moment! Morty knows how much Evil Morty doesn’t care about the lives of Ricks or Mortys, yet, he isn’t internally freaking out like he would be if it were some other villain; instead, he feels quite confident that he can beat Evil Morty–or at least hopes too. He feels confident, like he always does around him–any version of him, it seems.
Morty’s stumped expression turned to determination as he reached his hand down into the box under him. This place is owned by a Rick, so there has to be a gadget in here somewhere that can help me, Morty concluded–more like pleaded. He desperately hoped that was the case.
Evil Morty watched in silence, not moving an inch. His eyebrows narrowed while he boringly watched. Whatever Morty had to pull out, he could deflect with a bullet, or his gun in general.
After a couple of seconds, Morty’s hand grazed over something cold and metallic. A gun!
Yet when Morty dug it out from deep in the box under him and held it up to use, it was a cube. A medium size white glazed cube that had a shine of polish brushed all around.
The tension in the air from waiting ceased between the two of them.
In shock, Evil Morty let his arm hang by his side. “A box…” he muttered. “I gave you time to find something useful, and you pull out a fucking…box?” Evil Morty wanted to laugh at the pathetically tragic loser before him, even more so when Morty’s face flushed red from embarrassment. Evil Morty cracked a tiny laugh. “And I know for a fact that you were so excited when you–”
Morty hurled the white cube at Evil Morty. One of the sharp corners landing directly in his cheek. It stung on impact, blood immediately beginning to pool out.
“Fuck!” Evil Morty gasped, taking a couple wavering steps back and dropping the gun on instinct to yank the box out of his cheek. He pointed his finger at the new wound, and a holographic golden light shone out of the tip, scanning the area and healing it immediately.
Morty lunged forward and took the gun off the ground and within his hands. Evil Morty threw the box aside and didn’t even have a chance to look back at Morty before getting shoved onto the ground.
Evil Morty’s head recoiled from how harshly he hit the floor until his sight became straight again. Morty was sitting on his stomach, his legs swaddled off the sides like he was riding a horse. Evil Morty struggled to move his arms, pinned down by Morty’s knees.
“Didn’t see that coming, huh, bitch?!” Morty held the barrel of the gun up to Evil Morty’s chest, finger on the trigger ready to pull at any second.
Evil Morty’s arrogant eye narrowed down as he scoffed. “Oh grow the fuck up. We all know that you of all people didn’t plan that out!”
“I-I did too! What would you know?!” Morty argued. “Besides, last time I checked, y-you’re the one pinned down, not me!”
Evil Morty tsked his tongue. “Yeah, there’s no denying that, but there’s also no denying the fact that you won’t pull the trigger on me no matter how much you want to.” Evil Morty turned his head to the side, looking away uninterestedly.
“Says who?” Morty’s eyebrows narrowed in.
“You’re a Morty, Morty. You’re too much of an overthinking crybaby to do something like that.”
“You don’t know me.” Morty snarled.
“Do it then. Shoot me.”
Morty was stunned by his tenacity. His grip on the gun faltered for just a split second. “You want me to shoot you?”
“I mean, what can I do about anything?” Evil Morty sighed. “You have the opening, why not just get on with it?”
Morty’s mouth parted slightly in shock. He’s seriously willing to die just to prove a point?! This petty mother fucker!
“Don’t forget how your dear ol’ grandpappy Rick’s life is on the line!” Evil Morty mocked with a high pitched voice before deadpanning. His sight landed back on Morty whose breathing was like a rollercoaster.
But in the end, Morty threw the gun to the side. It bounced off the far wall and broke when it touched the floor.
Evil Morty’s eyes followed it. “Wow, dramatic much?” Morty’s death glare directed at him was ever lasting.
“You would’ve done the same. You’re a Morty, too.”
“Not by your terms.” Evil Morty corrected.
“Then why didn’t you shoot while you had the chance? I was clearly struggling. It would’ve been easy since I’m so “pathetic” as you and everyone else says.”
“You’re way too small in my mind to be a problem–”
“Someone’s lying!!” A bubbly high pitched voice spoke from a megaphone. The two Mortys froze and looked at each other confused.
“Am I the only one that heard that?” Morty questioned.
“Obviously not if I’m confused too, dipshit.” Evil Morty rolled his eyes.
The two looked around the dark room to the best of their ability and noticed nothing out of the ordinary.
“Ahem, as I was saying. You’re too small in my mind to be an issue in killing Rick C-137. I really doubt you’d even make an indent on–”
“Honesty’s the best policy!” The bubbly voice rang out like an alarm once more, and Evil Morty’s expression soured.
“Okay, seriously where the fuck is that coming from? It’s pissing me off!” Evil Morty complained.
“Agreed.” Morty’s head nodded.
“So then get the hell off of me!!” Evil Morty snapped.
“How can I trust that you won’t try to attack me again?” Morty’s voice sunk, still having his suspicions.
“You broke the only gun and weapon I brought. This was supposed to be an in and out kinda thing.” Evil Morty replied, yet Morty’s eyes didn’t waver from his suspicions as he stared down at Evil Morty menacingly. “Do you think I have a laser that shoots out of my ass or something?!”
Morty waited a moment before replying, and then his expression calmed down. “I guess you’re telling the truth since that voice didn’t pop out again.” Morty swung one of his legs over Evil Morty’s torso, landing with his feet together. He extended a hand for Evil Morty to use to stand up.
Evil Morty shook the pins and needles out of his hands. “Of course I wasn’t– wait, don’t listen to the ominous voice about whether I'm lying or not?!” Evil Morty exclaimed, slapping away Morty’s hand and standing up on his own. “Right now let’s look around and see if we can focus and hear anything.” he suggested.
“Well…” Morty glanced around. “I had tacos for breakfast today.”
“What does that have to–”
“Someone isn't being honest!!” the bubbly voice spoke up yet again, and it slowly made its way to all the corners of the room.
“Why’s it always cutting me off?” Evil Morty complained.
“This isn’t the time! Say some lies and look around.” Morty ordered, and Evil Morty didn’t have a choice but to follow, turning the other direction to start looking.
Minute after minute, one of them would say a lie to try and locate the voice, and eventually they were led back to the corner where they started.
“Well now what? I’m lost on what we should do next.” Morty admitted.
“Some help you were.” Evil Morty scoffed.
“Sure, buddy. You’d still be in the dark if it weren’t for my idea.” Morty smugly said, even smirking at him.
“You’re obnoxious. No I wouldn’t–”
“Don’t hide the truth!!”
When both Mortys heard the now annoying voice, they looked down at the white cube between their feet. Lifting their gazes even slower to stare at each other in disbelief.
“It’s the fucking cube!” both Mortys yelled at the same time.
“The one that you threw at me, remember, asshole?!” Evil Morty retorted.
“Oh so I’m the asshole for trying to protect myself from getting shot?!” Morty defensively pointed out. “And from what I remember, you didn’t even fucking shoot me!”
“Oh har har.” Evil Morty snobbily looked at him. “Why would I waste my time on someone who could be replaced with the snap of a finger?”
“Just give me the shitty cube.” Morty bent down and picked it up with both hands. He pressed around the sleek sides yet was met with no results. “Waste of my damn time.” Morty aggressively threw the box to the side. “Let’s just go. We’re probably hearing things, and maybe we’ll start seeing things because of the lack of light.” he theorized, officially done with the day. Sure he finally got to see Evil Morty again, but he forgot how different he is from all the other Mortys. Maybe it would’ve been best for that false dream of meeting Evil Morty again to stay a dream. He’s only here in the first place because Rick dragged him; Morty didn’t even want to go grocery shopping with Rick in the first place!
“Seeing things? Like that bright white glowing circle swirling out of the cube that you just threw harshly onto the ground?” Evil Morty’s voice monotoned, pointing to the cube on the ground, and the glowing circle coming out of it was lighting up the entire room, so much so that the gun that Morty had smashed on the ground minutes prior was now hurdling towards the the swirling light, and it disappeared when it made contact. Soon a couple other small objects flung towards the suctioning light, and the force from it became stronger.
“Shit! Don’t go into the light!” Morty screamed, trying to be heard over the new arriving sound vacuum.
“No shit, Sherlock!” The glowing circle was acting like a black hole, sucking up all sound, but Evil Morty still rasped his voice in annoyance and used all the air in his lungs to get his message out, but it wasn’t any use. Morty just looked at Evil Morty like he was a puzzle that was hard to decipher, even his eyes squinted doing so. Evil Morty really wanted to smack his own forehead, but this wasn’t the time.
More and more objects were getting pulled to the light, they couldn't hear anything, and soon from the looks of it, oxygen would give out too. What an absolute disaster. So, despite how much Morty aggravates him, Evil Morty pushed all of his hateful thoughts about the boy to the side to focus on the main issue at hand.
Evil Morty jumped to a plan, and to action. Since they couldn’t be heard when talking, Evil Morty decided to use body language. He snapped his fingers in front of Morty to catch his attention, and then moved his arms up and down on his chest to imitate a chest rising and lowering when breathing. Morty watched intently. Then, Evil Morty pointed to the small but mighty white light, and made an X with his arms, indicating that they’ll lose oxygen. Mortys are a lot of things, but Evil Morty hopes he’s at least smart enough to understand what he’s getting at.
Morty nodded in response, copying the last two motions before pointing at the door that Morty originally came in from. Before Evil Morty could come up with a motion to respond with, Morty already had grasped his wrist, squeezing it tightly, and using his free hand to cover his right eye, imitating the eye patch Evil Morty wears, then pointed at the bright light and shook his head vigorously.
Evil Morty didn’t shake Morty’s hand off like he normally would, he instead grabbed his wrist back and started following instructions by walking to the door first. Morty followed compliantly.
When the two slowly reached the door one after another, still gripping each other’s wrist like there’s no tomorrow—since from the looks of it, there isn’t—Evil Morty wiped his free hand on his dress pants and turned the door knob. It didn’t budge. He jiggled the knob, but it only rattled!
Morty noticed the struggle and stepped in front, pushing Evil Morty behind him. He, too, wiped his free hand on his jeans, and then tried turning the door knob. It didn’t work. He wearily looked back to Evil Morty, who was already staring at him–except he looked bothered, slightly nervous even.
In seeing such a new expression from such an uncaring person, Morty couldn’t let the two of them die in the room, he was determined to not let such a fate happen! Evil Morty’s still a person after all–even if he was trying to kill Morty just minutes ago. So, Morty looked down at their crossed hands, and then back up at Evil Morty hoping that he’d trust him. Evil Morty let go of his arm, and Morty did the same. Morty took a couple of careful steps back, and then ran into the door to body slam it. Only a vibrating thump was made. Morty’s side throbbed, and his eyes winced from the impact. Morty held his aching side, and sadly shook his head like a depressed puppy. They were seriously going to die in this room! Evil Morty sighed, rubbed his eye, and glanced back at the white light just as it began to double in size. It started pulling everything in quicker, which now included the two Mortys! Their feet lifted off of the ground while beginning to turn horizontal. Like a flash, Morty reached out for Evil Morty’s wrist, and the doorknob, and gripped both immediately as the force on them became stronger.
“Shit!” Cried Morty, keeping an extremely tight grip on the door knob, and all his hope in his other hand to not become sweaty holding onto flailing Evil Morty who wasn’t holding onto anything.
Evil Morty’s hands were free, and that was dangerous. If he wanted to get out alive, he had to rely on Morty. But even a super star wrestler couldn’t hold onto a person like this for a long time; and who knows when this shining white light will disperse? Morty’s just a Morty after all, and biology always seems to bite him in the ass at moments where he needs to defy it the most.
Morty didn’t have the will to say anything–and he always seems to say the wrong thing at times like this, so he simply looked back at Evil Morty desperately and teary eyed like he could break out crying at any second. His lip quivered and he bit down on it to stop. The bright white light from behind Evil Morty illuminated Morty’s familiar face and sullen blues.
Evil Morty had a blank expression displayed on his face again. If Evil Morty was being honest, he didn’t particularly care whether either of them died or not. They’re Mortys, and Mortys are born to die. If anything, more Mortys will be cloned in their place. Rick has said it himself countless of times: “Mortys’ are replaceable.” Even having these beliefs and abiding by them his entire life.
But even though a light is about to swallow the two up whenever the force becomes too strong, Evil Morty never felt more alive: Not when he did speeches in front of giant crowds for his presidential campaign, but right at this life and death moment. And most of all, he’s afraid he won’t ever experience something like this ever again; where sound is non-existent, where the deadly white light is inches away from killing him, and where a Morty is holding onto him with all his might–even though they were just in a quarrel.
Morty is whimpering full of sadness, sniffing his tears back into his squinted eyes, continuously fixing his grip on the door knob and Evil Morty in hopes to save them both. The pressure on Morty’s body is probably a second or two away from splitting his torso in two. Evil Morty is staring at panicked Morty with a twinkle of wonder in his exposed eye.
Evil Morty’s lips showed a small smile, taking in a breath. He wanted to save this feeling in his heart, and in order to do that is to let go of it all. Evil Morty began to twist his wrist. Morty’s whining stopped as his eyes moved to look down at Evil Morty’s arm becoming looser underneath his grip.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Morty screamed.
“Let go of me!” Evil Morty mouthed, not caring enough to voice his command.
“What are you talking about?! Do you have a fucking death wish?!” Morty exclaimed. With all the effort he could muster, Morty used the tips of his fingers to climb up Evil Morty’s arm and gain a better grip.
“Yes!” Evil Morty flung his dangling arm up to claw at Morty’s fingers, his annoyed expression returning; except, something unexpected happened instead. Morty let go of the door knob, turning his body to face Evil Morty’s as they tumbled into the bright white light. Shock resting on Evil Morty’s face the entire time, a sparkle set in his eyes.
Morty couldn’t let Evil Morty sacrifice himself because of him, so Morty did the unthinkable, he became brave and went down along with him.
Morty Smith is bred to be an awkward, submissive, dependent fourteen year old boy. He isn’t the type to ever get the good out of anything–biting his tongue half the time when Rick says so. Rick tells him what’s right and wrong, what he should do or not do, but this time Morty made a decision alone, and on his own, and one that he thinks is the best choice–well, if you consider sacrificing your life to save someone else to be the best course of action.
Except, Morty wasn’t saving Evil Morty’s life because letting go of the door knob dropped them both, and he realized that too late. And fortunately because the bright white light happened to be a regular discolored portal, neither of the Mortys died. Talk about a rollercoaster of emotions!
Evil Morty fell into the portal first, landing on the ground on his back. He didn’t even have the time to catch his breath before Morty followed, except he was falling face first, and his torso was cushioned by Evil Morty’s body when he landed. Evil Morty grunted in pain yet again, and roughly pushed Morty off of himself to stand up.
“S-Sorry!” Morty apologized unconfidentally. Evil Morty patted his blazer free of dust.
“Shut up.” Evil Morty uninterestedly held a hand up to block Morty’s face from view.
Even though Evil Morty was already sick of Morty from just one word coming out of his mouth, he was more curious as to why the two didn’t die. I mean, it had to be a black hole! There was no other scientific explanation as to why a portal would suck everything up. Morty took a quick glance around. It sucked most—if not all—of the boxes in that room, so why was there nothing here? Taking another hasty sweep around the room with his eye, there was absolutely nothing. Evil Morty’s hand slowly lowered back to his side with caution. The room was completely white; like in an asylum, but without any of the safety padding on the walls. But upon closer inspection—Morty walking up to one of the walls and tapping on it with his finger nail—all of the walls, the ceiling, and the floor that the two were standing on were completely made up of glass. The two Mortys were stuck in a small glass room that’s the size of a manager’s office, with no furniture, and in the middle of a vast eternal bright white light that had no end. When and how the actual fuck did they end up here?!
Evil Morty took his hand and reached into his light blue blazer, taking out a scanner. He motioned Morty to move to the side, and scanned the full glass box. No coordinates popped up. They were in the unknown. This left Evil Morty stumped, and it showed on his face.
“Hey, cheer up.” Morty started, walking towards Evil Morty who glanced over at him. “At least we aren’t dead.”
“I was fine with dying, but you’re the one that let go of the door knob.” Evil Morty retorted with attitude.
“I wasn’t just going to let you die alone–?!”
“Now come on.” Evil Morty reached back into his blazer and exchanged the scanner for his golden portal gun. “I’m being generous to let you see your Rick die. Usually, I’d do my business and leave the Morty in ignorance.” Evil Morty thought aloud, and gave his gun a lucky shake.
“What about Rick–”
Evil Morty pulled the trigger, yet only a couple golden droplets spat out like an empty ketchup bottle. The small liquid landed on the glass wall, and the two Mortys watched it glide down slowly.
“Are you gonna try it again or what?” Morty dispersed the silence.
“Obviously I’m going to fucking try it again.” Evil Morty gave it another shake, and then pulled the trigger. Nothing came out. “Well shit.”
“W-We’re stuck here?!” Morty whined in worry.
“Unless you have an outer dimensional portal gun made from scraps.” Evil Morty rolled his eyes, walking up to the wall that still had the tiny portal droplets rolling down, and leaned his back against it.
“What do we do now?” Morty joined Evil Morty, leaning on the space beside him.
“Are you always this dependent?” Evil Morty spat the thought out.
“Damn, I was just asking…” Morty grumbled. “No need to be a dick about it. I’m stuck here just as much as you.” Morty rolled his eyes. No wonder he has Evil in his name, thought Morty.
“We just wait until Rick realizes you're missing and comes searching for you, I suppose.” Even though Evil Morty has been blowing Morty off the entire time they’ve been in this new white room, he still always gives a response, no matter how annoying or unneeded he finds the question. “But, you’ll probably be dead waaay before anyone finds us, since portal science can’t be used here.”
“Wow. Thanks for the encouragement to keep on hoping.” Morty deadpanned.
“Hey, you’re the one that threw your life away earlier– and for no reason at that.” Evil Morty swiftly replied, spinning his golden portal gun around his finger like he had been doing before.
“Correction: You were trying to throw your life away. I was just accompanying you.” Morty crossed his arms righteously.
“Right,” Evil Morty smirked. ““Accompanying me.””
“What even was the reason?– W-What was the switch up?” Morty curiously asked. “Like, you were doing fine when trying to kill me like ten minutes ago, but then as the portal grew, y-you were just fine with dying?”
“It’s not like I wanted to die, I just knew your noodle arms wouldn’t be able to hold my weight for that long.” Evil Morty answered. “I was doing you a favor–”
The glass walls shortened, which resulted in the two Mortys screeching down a foot, their shoes on the ground making scuff marks on the glass.
“Why am I the one always getting cut off?!” Evil Morty’s voice raised in question.
“The room just shrank, and that’s what you’re worried about?!” Morty shot the question at Evil Morty, who had a pout of annoyance smacked on his face.
“Don’t think too much about it. It’s probably just a once in a while kinda thing. And besides, this room is okay to fit two people as of right now. Although, I can’t promise that in given time.” Evil Morty shrugged the issue off to the side, along with his portal gun after he accidentally gave it a swing so strong that it flew off of his finger and landed on the floor next to him. When he went to pick it up though, a hole opened up under it, swallowing it whole. Evil Morty stared in shock. “M-My portal gun!” he stared down at the empty space offendedly. “What the fuck!” he yelped.
“Hah.” Morty let a small cackle slip. “Not like you could use it–”
Before Morty could even finish, Evil Morty swiftly turned around and gripped Morty by the collar, raising him off the floor.
“Don’t fucking test me, Morty.” Evil Morty grimaced, his expression built from irritation and annoyance.
Except, Morty didn’t seem to care.
“Sure, kill me now and put me out of my misery early. That way, you can go insane from lack of communication, and I won’t starve to death!” Morty said sarcastically, and just like before, Evil Morty dropped him to his knees. “That’ll never get old.” he smirked.
“Being stuck with any Morty would make me go insane.”
The room shrank yet again, the rumbling coming from all around.
Morty stifled a laugh. “Is it something we’re saying? O-Or is this like a labyrinth, a-a-and we have to find like a code or something?” Morty theorized, jumping up to his feet to start looking around. But Evil Morty gripped his shoulder, stopping him.
“Don’t bother. When I scanned the room, nothing hidden showed up on the screen.” Evil Morty explained. “And I really doubt it’s voice command. But, you know, I think I prefer this room rather than that annoying ass voice from earlier.”
Morty thought for a moment on whether he agreed or not, but then gained an epiphany. “Evil Morty, you’re brilliant!” Morty’s eyes widened, turning excitedly towards Evil Morty.
“Yeah, I know that.” Evil Morty spared not an ounce of humbleness.
“The room shrinking every time we talk has to do with the cube from earlier– the one that spoke every time we lied! Well, every time you lied, at least.”
“I wasn’t lying–”
The room shook and rumbled, shrinking two feet rather than the normal foot.
“Oh great, you made the sentient room angry!” Morty scolded. “Maybe the more wrong the lie is, the more the room shrinks…?”
“You seriously believe that bullshit?!”
“Then how can you explain it?”
“...” Evil Morty didn’t have a defence, so he swallowed his words, and rolled his eyes. “What fucking ever.” he scorned. “Are there any more pathetic theories? Or is that it?”
“Well, the portal did come from the white cube when I dropped it.”
“That’s seriously it? How tragic.” Evil Morty pitifully looked at Morty.
“You would still be lost if I hadn’t brought the idea up, admit it! Again!” Morty exclaimed.
“There’s nothing to admit since I wouldn’t be lost–”
The room shrank again.
“That’s getting old.” Morty spoke the thought that both of them shared. “Stop lying.”
“But I’m not–!”
The room shrank again.
“Oh that’s fucking it!!” Evil Morty jumped to his feet and started to kick the glass walls, in hopes to break himself out of the shrinking prison.
Morty grew alarmed at his temperament. “What the hell are you doing?!” he hastily grabbed hold of both of Evil Morty’s arms, pulling him away from the walls and into the middle of the room. Evil Morty wriggled about, struggling to free himself in his pursuit of rage. “Do you want us to actually possibly die this time?! W-We don’t know for sure what’s out there if the glass a-actually breaks!!” Morty struggled to get his words out against all the flailing, and eventually Evil Morty twisted his arms around so much so that he freed them from Morty’s arms, and the blazer. In the end, his fit of anger didn’t matter because Morty was right, again. Neither of them know how to leave, or what lies beyond the glass walls, so they just have to focus on staying alive and waiting for someone—most likely Rick C-137, who he hates—to save them. And even then, Rick most definitely wouldn’t bring him along with them for the ride.
So, Evil Morty took a few breaths, and calmed his breathing down. “What do you suggest we do, then?” Evil Morty slowly asked. “You seem to be on top of this.” he rolled his eyes, not believing that he’s subduing himself to another Morty, out of anything.
“I’m not the best when it comes to leadership, but I suggest that we find out what we say that’s in common with the shrinking room, and the annoying voice from earlier.” The blazer slipped from Morty’s hands as he walked up to Evil Morty, guiding him to sit down alongside one of the walls. When he looked back to pick it up, the blazer was gone.
“I’m billing you for that.” Evil Morty sternly said. “And don’t be so coy, it’s like you’re forgetting the revolt that you led.”
How could Morty forget about it? Morty truthfully couldn’t stop thinking about that day–not because of all the prisoner Mortys escaping and killing the Ricks, but because Evil Morty was his second hand man, the guy that helped give him courage to even do anything in the first place. “That was just a small thing.” Morty scratched the back of his neck with a light smile.
“Well…If I think about it, it seems that the more I talk, the more it affects these things.” Evil Morty thought aloud.
“Well, you have Evil in your name for a reason. Must be a good liar.”
“I–”
Morty covered Evil Morty’s mouth with his hand. “I’d think before I speak.” A tiny frown spread to Morty’s lips, making Evil Morty’s eyes thin upsettingly, eventually moving Morty’s hand to the side.
“I…don’t consider my choice of wording to be lying, it’s simply a part of the truth.” Evil Morty replied carefully, and the room stayed the same. The two let out a breath of relief.
“We’re off to a good start.” Morty smiled.
“Oh shut up. It’s not like we like each other’s company or anything. Being stuck in this room is the last thing I would’ve asked for.” Evil Morty rolled his eyes distastefully.
“U-Uh, yeah!” Morty agreed.
The ground then rumbled from underneath their butts, shrinking in size.
Evil Morty’s head turned to look at Morty confused. “You actually like my company?” he asked in disbelief.
“You were my right hand man at that revolt!” Morty defended himself. “Y-You’re kinda a cool guy in my opinion. When you’re not trying to kill me, at least.” That last part was very necessary to add. Morty turned away.
“Uh huh.” Evil Morty was speechless. He thought the two of them were on the same rivalry terms, but he supposed not. “Why’re you so shy about it all of a sudden? It’s not like you were looking for me or anything.” Evil Morty tried to lighten the mood, but his words were met with silence. The back of Morty’s neck bore a light pink as he stared at him. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“You’re a dick.” Morty’s legs were held up to his chest, hiding his face away, making his words mumble. “It was subtly every now and then in the citadel. I-It’s not like I jumped in Rick’s space ship and searched the galaxy.” he added with an attitude on his tongue. “And besides, I hadn’t been back to the citadel in weeks since today. A-And I didn’t even know about a Morty–well, you, getting elected for president.” As much as he wanted to hide it away, Morty was kinda embarrassed about getting found out for this. If Rick found out, that’s one thing, but the actual person? How embarrassing! And it’s not like Morty could go hide in his shame away from him; the two of them are in a glass room with no way to get out! “...Congrats, by the way. I thought it was neat.” he admitted, no more shame to hide behind.
In response, Evil Morty patted his back. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.” Evil Morty told him, an unbothered expression on his face. “I was kinda over it after the first justification–”
“Shame me all you want!” Morty turned back around to face him.
“I just said that I wasn’t.” Evil Morty’s eye narrowed.
“But, you said you kidnapped all the Mortys with your Rick’s help, right? If that’s the case, you didn’t have to help me. Y-Y-You could’ve just locked me away with the rest of the Mortys to die of starvation. S-So, why didn’t you?”
Evil Morty glanced away. “It’s not as deep of a reason as you’re hoping for. I was only bored, and wanted to see what you’d do with the opportunity.” he blandly responded. He received a response right away, which was from the room shrinking double the amount, making the walls uncomfortably close to each other.
After a moment, Morty spoke up. “Guess you’re still not willing to tell the truth, huh?”
“What fucking ever!” Evil Morty scorned.
“So, you admit you lied?”
“Does it even matter? We’re both going to die here anyway.” Evil Morty shrugged the thought off, leaning his head back to touch the glass.
“Wow, thinking up the big picture. How absolutely brave of you.” Morty sarcastically commented, laying his head back as well. “Tell me what the real reason is after you come back down from your high.”
“...” Evil Morty hesitated, then glanced away at the side. “I had a feeling you’d be able to pull it off. I guess you can say I put my faith in you.” he crossed his arms. “There aren’t a lot of Mortys like you at the citadel. You’re different from the rest, y’know?”
Morty was stunned by how in-depth Evil Morty’s thought process was. He never would’ve expected him to care so much about the Mortys—so much so that he put a random one in charge to lead a revolt—when he always goes on and on about how sad, pathetic, and stupid they are. But, in all, the most mind blowing thing to Morty was how Evil Morty had faith in him; That’s even more than Rick says it to him, and they somewhat actually tolerate each other! But nonetheless, Morty was happy with it. He’d rather die than let any more things that can embarrass him show, though. “You’re so honorable, trusting someone with the exact same DNA as you to pull off a revolt.” Morty was far from done with these sarcastic remarks.
“Oh har har.” Evil Morty tsked his tongue. “Let me ask you a doozy then since you’re trynna pick a fucking fight.”
Morty turned to face Evil Morty, his expression deepening to get ready for whatever this guy had to ask.
“Do you even enjoy having a Rick?” Evil Morty lacked no bluntness, his eyelid comfortably resting half lidded on his eye. “All Ricks ever do is take advantage of Mortys and wear them down until they submit to any command or die– there’s no inbetween.”
Morty’s face darkened. “Yeah? Maybe? Sometimes?” Morty waverily answered. “I-I-I don’t fucking know? What’s up with you and your all over the top questions?! What are you, a cop? Still planning on taking away my Rick o-or something?! I-I expected something like “Oh, are you still getting bullied at school like a-all the other Mortys?” You’re so…”
Evil Morty began to zone out during his rambling, staring straight at the pure white nothingness with Morty’s voice in the background; his eye lingered on their reflection, pupil dilating from the noise beside him.
“Holy shit, okay, I get it.” Evil Morty’s sourness returned, his face scrunching.
Morty glanced over at him, his irritation subduing from the response. “...about Rick.” he slowly finished his thought. “You want me to complain, but when I do complain, you get mad.” Morty scoffed, crossing his arms.
“Nah, I wasn’t listening.”
“Fucking asshole.” Morty grumbled.
“I traveled the multiverse a lot some time ago, and you’re the only one who has such a whiny voice.” Evil Morty exhaustedly complained.
“We have the same voice.” Morty deadpanned. “Also, why were you traveling the Multiverse?”
“Dunno, just was.”
“W-Were you with someone or something…?”
“Yeah, my Rick I guess.”
Morty turned his body to Evil Morty, facing his side. Evil Morty didn’t bother to move in return, but stared at Morty from the side of his free eye. “You had a Rick?” Morty blinked shockingly. “I-I thought you were a free bird, know what I mean?”
“Don’t all Mortys start off with a Rick?” Evil Morty sassily replied. “And it’s probably not in the way you’re thinking it is.” he relaxed again, hunching into himself while resting one leg on top of the other.
“And that means…?”
“I killed my Rick, what else does it mean?” Evil Morty glared at Morty in response.
“That does not correlate at all! O-Obviously I wouldn’t think that at first! I thought you meant that you were in charge of all the a-adventures or something– jeez!” Morty’s voice raised in shock. “H-How would Rick even be with you in that occurrence? Did you fucking carry his corpse around?!”
“Heavens! I’m not crazy or anything!!” Evil Morty gasped. “I put a chip in his brain so that he’d follow my orders.” he answered mindlessly, like that wasn’t just as bad. Just a mindless robot of his recently deceased grandpa following him around; no life or soul in the fella anymore. Evil Morty really didn’t care. It freaked Morty out when Evil Morty showed how much he didn’t care about anything. No empathy, no sympathy, and no will to live. Now that’s terrifying not only for him, but to Morty as well.
And, Morty didn’t even know any of this occurred in the first place! He understands being mad at a Rick’s shitty behavior and even shittier drinking habits, but straight up killing him with your own hands? That’s almost unthinkable to Morty! Except, almost. Rick is not a good grandpa, or a good role model at that. Rick gives out the idea to all Mortys that they are worthless and replaceable. Being so young and learning all of that almost everyday of your life, it can fuck you up in the head. Morty understands that first hand, just like the other Mortys.
Morty can’t blame Evil Morty for his actions. His Rick must’ve been even more fucked up than Morty’s for him to do something so vile; to his family, and to his peace of mind. It’s different if you kill a different Rick than your own– sure he’s your grandpa, but he’s not your grandpa, and Ricks always have it coming, whether you deny it or not. Morty knows that.
Morty took a quick breath in, and calmed his expression to worry. “Do you wanna talk about it? I-I know how harsh your life must’ve been.” he awkwardly asked.
Evil Morty looked at him from the side, then looked away. “Don’t pity me, I tried killing you earlier, remember that?” Evil Morty reminded Morty. “There’s nothing to talk about.” he said at last.
“Look, I know you don’t particularly like me, but I-I understand just as much as you how hard it is to have a Rick. But your life must’ve been extra hard if you felt the need to kill him.” Morty reasoned.
Evil Morty found himself thinking, staring straight ahead of them at their reflections in the glass, specifically Morty’s. In Morty’s reflection, it was almost like he was reaching out to him, but not having the courage to even touch him. His face contorted in concern and exhausted calmness. Evil Morty’s mouth slightly parted. “...Don’t group me in with you Mortys.” his eyebrows narrowed in. “My Rick was just like yours; maybe a little less drunk all the time, but when he was drunk he was still an ass. When I killed him though, I left my family behind, and wandered around the multiverse until I wound up at the citadel. There’s nothing more to it.
“If anything, my Rick’s probably still dismembered on the floor of the lab you held the revolt in.”
Morty stared straight ahead too, past the glass and at the white nothingness that enclosed them here. “...A shame.”
“Not really.”
The room filled with a silence that Morty could only describe as a tad comforting and needed. Morty felt that he gained a little bit of Evil Morty’s trust–he did open up to him after all; he really felt like he understood him better, his morals and all of that. Honestly thinking, where would Evil Morty be right now if he hadn’t done the deed that he did?
Evil Morty had heard many types of silences throughout his life, but this small proximity that held the two of them, shrinking unknowingly, really made the silence loud.
“Still getting bullied at school?” Evil Morty eventually overcame that loud ringing silence, his eye getting tired from the same blank slate that was all around them. It’s not like he could look anywhere else since everything’s the same, but Evil Morty was almost tempted to turn and stare at Morty.
“So you were listening?” Morty smugly laughed, turning his head to look at Evil Morty. This time, however, Evil Morty turned back. They were face to face.
“Oh har har.” Evil Morty rolled his eye.
“To answer your question, I probably am. I haven’t been back in a month, and when I actually do attend, it’s only for a day at a time.” Morty honestly replied. “Although, every time I walk into math, Mr.Goldenfold makes everyone huddle under their desks for the “Morty drill” as he calls it. So, maybe the bullying’s being done by him instead.”
Evil Morty laughed at such a nonsensical thing. “Wow. Why are all adults so shitty?” a small smile appeared on his face. “It’s like they either care, or don’t. What a set of worlds we’re forced to live in.”
“It’s weird how agreeable you’re being now, when just minutes ago you–”
“I was trying to kill you, yeah, yeah. Say it another time, maybe then it’ll stick.” Evil Morty uninterestedly finished Morty’s sentence for him. “Listen, whatever you think I’m gonna do, I guarantee I won’t. We’re stuck here without anything to do but talk. I don’t feel like picking a fight right now.” Evil Morty sat up straight, and slid his back against the glass wall to fix his posture.
“Just earlier you said we “shouldn’t talk.”” Morty reminded him with a questionable tone in his voice. “Pick a lane, man.” he turned his head away, looking at the side wall to his right. Evil Morty groaned, eye twitching, but not daring to respond; he had a feeling that if he did the room would shrink. “Do you have any more unresolved trauma you wanna talk about? I-It’s kinda boring here.”
“What am I, a charity case?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Evil Morty rolled his eyes at the thought. Being a “charity case” just like all the other Mortys? Not ever! He’s better than all of them: He controlled his Rick while they traveled the multiverse. He tricked everyone into believing he had the hearts of all of the citadel in mind. He is far from being a charity case! But at the same time, why was he thinking so hard about Morty’s comment? Why did he care whether Morty thought of him as weak or not? Everything about this put him on edge.
“In your dreams.” he grumbled. “Weren’t you the one going on and on about how I was your oh-so savior that convinced you to help the other Mortys out? In that case, you’re the charity case.” Evil Morty humphed, impressed with his own comeback.
“Wow you took that response seriously.” Morty’s eyes squinted a smile while glancing at Evil Morty from the side. “You may think getting help is weak—and I-I kind of do too since we basically have the same mindset—but you inspired me to do the things I did then. Rick w-would’ve just said that they can all be re-cloned and that me and him should book it, but you let me choose what to do; you didn’t force some random ulterior motive onto me, and it made my choice more meaningful to me. Thinking about that night, a-and you, keeps me up at night feeling glory and hope in who I am. You really helped me that day, and I hope you know that.”
Evil Morty’s mouth was agape–shockingly wide eyed, a dusty rose overcame him, resting comfortably on the ends of his cheeks, crawling up to his ears. He couldn’t believe how much Morty’s words meant to him, even his lips quivered at the thought. What did he do to end up here? What possible choices did he make to think such a Morty could be so remarkable?
Evil Morty wanted to ignore the feeling that was coming over him at that instant, gnawing away at his mind and heart. His instincts were being shot straight out the window at that second. But before Morty even came into his life, it was like he was walking around in gray and white: there was nothing meaningful to him at all, nothing struck him like gold. But Morty walked ahead of him, creating a trail of color showing him the world in a different light, a world of color that Evil Morty found his heart wrenching at the thought of wanting to spend it all with him.
The thick feeling that was overdriving Evil Morty out of his senses pounded deep in his chest. He was almost afraid his heart would tear out of his body, so he gripped the front of his white dress shirt.
Evil Morty’s expression was restless; a widened eye, face pink from the nonexistent heat he was feeling. Morty noticed the sudden switch up in the atmosphere of friendliness that had just been in the air, into something different, something…electric.
“Hey, is it getting stuffy in here? O-Or is it just me?” Morty suddenly asked, looking around. “Does your scanner read the temperature too?” he wondered.
“Uh…” Evil Morty was unfocused for the first time in a long time in his life, and also the first time in front of Morty; he tries to live up to his name. His eyes shifted all around the room, mouth clenched shut, trying his best to avoid Morty. “M-Maybe?” he stuttered.
That’s different too, Morty mentally noted. “I’m wearing a tee if y-you want to switch. Those kinda shirts can get s-super hot.”
Evil Morty froze, beginning to watch Morty pull his shirt up with both of his arms.
“No! Stop!” Evil Morty cried, breathing heavily. He rushed his hands forward, gripping the bottom of the shirt to pull it down, resting his hands on Morty’s thighs.
The two of them froze in hysteria. Evil Morty’s face just became more pink, subconsciously gripping Morty’s shirt even tighter.
“I agree that it’s become more…hot, in here.” Evil Morty’s throat closed up like he couldn’t say anything, but still replied to Morty’s previous statement, turning away.
“...Are you gonna l-let go of my shirt?”
Hearing that, Evil Morty jolted in his skin and snatched his hands back.
Morty stared at the awkward boy in front of him–probably even more awkward than himself! He cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, what the fuck’s going on with you?” Morty bluntly said. “Decided you want me to die again o-or something?”
Evil Morty hid his face away from Morty. “No…” he calmly mumbled, his exposed flushed pink neck was the same shade as Morty’s neck was when he was embarrassed just earlier. Morty blinked, taking in how shy Evil Morty was suddenly being. Morty’s never seen him like this, almost wanting to capture this moment for eternity. Morty inched closer to him, placing a hand on his back.
“Then tell me what’s up. I won’t judge you.” Morty’s voice swooned around Evil Morty, a tinge of understanding seeping in.
“Fuck off, Morty! I hate you, fucker!” Evil Morty snapped, turning his pink, embarrassed, mad face back at Morty, who looked at him with an unbelieving expression.
“Ouch.” Morty replied as the room started shrinking. “Don’t gotta lie now. I thought we were over that stage. I thought we were close enough–” the room didn’t stop shrinking as the two thought it would, it continued on.
“Shit!” Evil Morty jumped out of his trance.
“What the fuck’s going on now?!” Morty concernedly looked around, a sweat droplet forming on his forehead. “I-I-I know we figured out that the more intense t-the lie is the room will increase in shrinking size, but something like this hasn’t happened before!” Morty cried, scooching closer to Evil Morty to keep him safe and close. “Was your lie that intense?!”
The room was practically swallowing the two whole, the walls inching closer and closer. Thirty feet wide and tall soon became twenty, which soon became ten, and was even reaching eight feet!
Evil Morty was clearly out of it for some reason that he wasn’t comfortable disclosing to Morty, and since Morty’s a good person and they’re about to die, he isn’t forcing whatever it is out.
With the walls closing in on them ever so quickly, Evil Morty knew that the floor soon wouldn’t have room for the two of them, so he stood up, and held himself above Morty to give him some room. That’s the least he could do at the moment knowing that his feelings were the cause of all of this. His palms were flat on the glass, and his feet were on the sides of Morty who was concernedly looking around.
“Listen!!” Morty yelled, turning his head up to Evil Morty, trying to reach him in his racing mind. “I’m really glad that I-I got to be friends with you within the time that we’ve been stuck in here waiting to see if we die or get out– and I guess we’re dying. B-But I’d rather die alongside you than anyone else!” Morty heartfully said. “A-At least I got the message that we’re friends?”
Evil Morty felt his heart jump. “Yeah, yeah, I know!!” Evil Morty hastily replied, trying to keep his hands gripped on the glass. “S-Sorry I tried killing you for no reason earlier! I don’t hate you now!” his eye squinted, feeling his hands uncomfortably slide down the glass. “And I’m sorry for lying, again!” he added tearfully. “You’re stronger than me! I-I couldn’t get–” his hands lost grip, immediately slipping. They both stared at each other in shock. Morty held his arms out to catch Evil Morty, gripping them around his waist. But, in doing so, it pushed Evil Morty closer to his upper body, resulting in an accidental kiss.
Their lips pecked.
Mwah!
Everything in the room went dead silent. The walls stopped moving in, their eyes stayed unblinked, staring deeply into each other in the close proximity, sharing the same bubble of air. Morty still had his arms held tightly onto Evil Morty, who had his arms gripped onto Morty’s shoulders. But within that second of frozen time, Evil Morty’s face blushed a deep tomato red, jerking back and away from Morty, almost slamming the back of his head into the glass approaching quickly from behind. Morty, like a sleep agent, lurched his body forward to make sure he could catch Evil Morty’s head within his hands. They were just inches away from each other’s faces, again.
Morty Smith is bred to be an awkward fourteen year old boy, always getting himself into mortifying situations–but this time, it was Evil Morty Smith trying to hold it together under the weight of everything.
“I-I’m glad the room stopped shrinking.” Morty mentioned positively, a familiar soft smile on his face as he led Evil Morty’s head to rest on the glass wall behind him. “But uhm…” he glanced away, afraid of whether he should bring up what he’s thinking or not.
“Spit it out, Morty.” Evil Morty unpleasantly spat, already knowing what’s coming.
“The room stopped shrinking when we kissed…” Morty finished, a tinge of awkwardness on his tongue. “A-Accidentally kissed!”
Evil Morty couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to! Because if he did, the room would start shrinking again and kill them both! Not talking or responding is his best bet right now. So, Evil Morty turned his head away with a frown.
“Giving me the silent treatment, huh? I-I get it…” Morty was rather quiet, not wanting to force anything out of Evil Morty. That really stirred Evil Morty’s heart around. Morty was genuinely so kind and considerate that Evil Morty really was horrible for making all of this occur.
Morty moved back from Evil Morty, sitting beside him.
“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, I know how bad you want to uphold your bad boy ego, so, I-I’ll talk instead.” A light chuckle came out of Morty’s throat, his eyes glancing down to his side. “ I’ve been searching for you ever since the day we parted after the revolt– a-a-after you disappeared into the crowd. I thought about you all of the time and wanted to see you again. I guess I k-know the reason now.” Morty’s hand gradually reached Evil Morty’s, beginning to hold it tenderly. “I think I like you.”
Morty was too shy to look at Evil Morty now, the tips of his ears bearing a pink one could say was bright.
The two sat in silence.
Why did I have to go and say all of that soppy shit?! He probably didn’t even lie about whether he had feelings for me or not!! Man I-I’m such a fucking creep! Morty’s thoughts were loud and doubtful. But on the outside, he was too afraid to make a sound, to move, to even breathe.
Evil Morty never shook Morty’s hand off of his own, eventually gripping it in return. His eye was shiny and bright while he turned his head to look at Morty. Before, Evil Morty didn’t know what to think of all that was happening, but now he can see it all clearly. It wasn’t just him lying about his feelings—after immediately realizing them—it was Morty too.
Evil Morty smiled whole heartedly that for once reached his eye, and his free hand guided Morty’s face to turn to him. Both of their faces were equally pink, reflecting how alike they really are; and for once, Evil Morty was fine with that. If he had to be like any Morty, he’d choose this Morty, his Morty. The tips of his fingers caressed soft ends of hair strands, Evil Morty’s eye glancing down at Morty’s naturally plump lips, then back into his eyes, pushing forward and grasping his lips within his own. Their lips were slick against each other, it made them both want each other even more.
Morty’s eyes closed, taking it all in. His hands glided up Evil Morty–from the hand he was holding, to his shoulder, softly caressing his neck as he passed it to cuffing his cheek in the palm of his hand.
Both of their eyes closed, truly accepting the moment like it’s the last they’ll ever see of each other.
When the two Mortys blinked their eyes open again, they were back in the dark boxy room, Morty’s Rick standing over them.
“Fuck, finally!” Rick complained, taking a swig from his handy flask. “I for—buuuurrrrp—sure thought you two were g-goners.”
Morty and Evil Morty sat up again, bubbles foamed at the edge of their mouths from when they were asleep.
“Why does my head ache so much…” Evil Morty grumbled, holding it in one hand.
“I thought we were just in a–”
“A white room? Yeah…A prototype I—buuuurrrrp—was working on and gave away to the Rick who w-works here to get a sale on some juice a while b-back.” Rick explained, interrupting Morty completely. Morty and Evil Morty gave each other a glance. “Shit, were you two in there together?”
“Ah– u-uh, yeah.” Morty stutteredly responded, glancing down to the side.
“Not by choice.” Evil Morty added on.
“No wonder I only kept it as a prototype.” Rick rolled his eyes. “Fucking failure. B-B-Beth forced me to m-make it when she was a kid since I wouldn’t stop lying or some shit, I don’t—buuuurrrrp—fucking remember.”
Morty stood up straight, an upset expression written on his face. “Oh, uh cool, Rick…” he unjoyfully replied.
“How’s that cool in a-any way? It’s—buuuurrrrp—just needy.” Rick snarked.
“L-Let’s just go home…Y-You got the portal liquid, right?” Morty began to push Rick forward towards the door that led into the rest of the building.
“Slow y-your roll!” Rick’s voice raised, looking down at Morty while getting forcefully pushed. “I-I’m the one driving, dick. A-And your mom really—buuuurrrrp—doesn’t want you missing family therapy because of me, again. Wong says she’s a bad mom. I agree–”
“I get it!” Morty snapped. “I-I’ll only be a minute!” he added quickly, giving Rick one more push out until he was able to shut the door on him completely.
Morty leaned his back on the door, taking a breath. He glanced up, and Evil Morty was approaching him.
“Shitty Rick, huh?” Evil Morty sparked up the topic. “Don’t want one, but can’t get yourself to drop the one you got.”
Morty rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
Evil Morty shrugged, reaching his hand into his blazer, pulling out his trusty golden portal gun. Morty silently gasped, his arm moving without command, tugging on his sleeve. Evil Morty turned to look at him, his uninterested eye landing on Morty’s pouty expression.
“L-Leaving already?” Morty worriedly asked.
“I tried to kill you and Rick C-137 some time ago, I don’t think either of you want me to stick around.” Evil Morty replied boredly. “Just be lucky I’m letting you off the hook…indefinetly, ahem!” he coughed, trying to cover the last set of words as best he could.
A smile sprouted on Morty’s face. “Thank you, Evil Morty.”
Evil Morty’s expression softened a tad, a tiny glint shining in his eye. “Always.” he turned once again, prepared to leave. He gave the portal gun his lucky shake, and pulled the trigger.
“Wait!” Morty called out, reaching out again.
“Hmm?” Evil Morty hummed, turning his head back to glance at Morty from behind.
“Will I get to see you again?”
“Pft–!” Evil Morty turned around again and walked back up to Morty, an endearing smile building up on his face. He leaned in close to Morty’s face. “You always seem to surprise me, Morty.” he soon melted into a kiss, cuffing Morty’s face within his hands. “Don’t worry, we’ll see each other again, soon I hope.” Evil Morty backed away, fixing his blazer, and turning back to his golden portal. “Until then, I’ll see you around.” Evil Morty’s half lidded eye glanced all over Morty, turning away and disappearing into the portal.