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Morty was minding his own business, as usual.
He was in the dining room, eating some cereal that he found hidden in the cupboards. (In this universe, Lucky Locket is called Lucky Charms. Strange.)
One thing he likes to do is let the cereal soak in the milk for a couple of minutes. It makes the cereal taste sweeter so it tastes better. To make it less boring, he removes the marshmallows too, saving them for later. He doesn’t want to admit it but the marshmallows taste great.
After setting aside about more than half of the marshmallows, he heard a distant voice.
“Em!”
Morty lifted his head. It’s not often someone calls for me…
He got up from his seat and headed towards the voice, only to find Jerry awkwardly standing beside the microwave with a frustrated expression.
“Oh, hey, Em.” Jerry greeted in a feigned dismissive manner. “The microwave’s acting up. For some reason, no matter what I do, it just won’t start! And I refuse to eat a cold burrito.”
Morty stared at Jerry. Then at the microwave. Then back to Jerry.
He starts walking away.
“Wait, wait, wait! Please! The whole family uses the microwave and if I don’t fix it, then Rick will!” Jerry cried out.
Morty stopped in his tracks, sighing. “So this is another one of your ‘feeling inferior’ moments, huh?” He turned back around and crossed his arms.
Jerry frowned. “I.. okay. Yes, it is. Whenever something breaks, Rick’s the one the whole family calls to fix it.” He took a deep breath and placed his hand over his chest. “A-and as the man of the house, I refuse to let my family think I’m useless!”
Morty raised a brow. “I don’t think anything you’ll do will change how the family views you.”
“I have a job, y’know! I even earn more than Beth!”
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
The color drained from Jerry’s face. “Please don’t.”
Silence fell over the room.
Jerry pressed his hands together. “Please, Em. Just tell me what the problem is so I can fix it.”
Morty took a long look at Jerry.
He remembered how his version of Jerry acted. Exactly like this. Weak, pathetic, annoying, always pushing his problems onto other people—an overall nuisance.
Worst of all, he never asked anyone for help.
He was always so insistent on doing things on his own. It didn’t matter if it was about hanging the Christmas lights or fixing the car—he always had to prove he was better.
And now here this Jerry was. Begging for help with a look that’s vaguely reminiscent of a kicked puppy.
With a heavy sigh, Morty made his way to the microwave. “Did you check if it was plugged in?”
Jerry felt a brief moment of happiness when Morty came over only to instantly deflate at his question. “Of course I did! I’m not that clueless!”
Morty huffs. “Debatable.” He took a closer look at the microwave and started messing with it.
Jerry waited (im)patiently beside him, twiddling his thumbs. Morty rolled his eyes. So childish…
Eventually, Morty stopped.
“Did you find the problem?”
“Yup.” Morty placed a hand on his hip as he faced Jerry. “The door’s broken.”
“The door’s broken?”
“Uh-huh.” He toys with the door, moving it from side to side. “The door’s broken so the microwave thinks it’s not closed and therefore, doesn’t heat up whatever’s put inside.”
“Ohhh,” Jerry exclaimed, looking at the microwave. “That’s a thing, huh? Wow, I’m shocked you found out so quickly.”
Morty shrugged. “It’s a common problem.”
Jerry nodded, pulling out his phone. “Okay, cool. Now I know what the problem is…” He typed something, presumably about how to fix broken microwave doors.
Sensing he wasn’t needed anymore, Morty made his way out of the kitchen—
“Oh, Em!” Jerry called.
Morty turned his head around. “What?”
Jerry’s lips curled into a kind smile. “Thank you.”
Morty paused.
“Whatever,” He dismissed, walking away.
His shoulders felt oddly lighter.
*
Later on…
“Beth, I fixed the microwave!”
“That’s great, Jerry. Good job.”
“Yeah! It wasn’t that hard, all I needed to do was—”
“Okay, don’t push it, Jerry. I already said good job. Now go heat up the leftovers.”
Morty stifled his laughter. What an idiot.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
“This is such a hassle…” Morty grumbled under his breath, the sound of the toilet flushing can be heard as he exited the bathroom. He was seriously considering making his own bathroom at this point. It’s such a hassle needing to leave his shack and go inside the house to use the bathroom. The stuff he’s had to walk into because he just wanted to take a piss was.. he didn’t want to think about it.
Rubbing the back of his head, he had his hand on the handle of the sliding door when all of the sudden—
“Em? Is that you?”
Morty held his breath and slid the door open as quietly as possible.
“I know you’re here, don’t pretend you’re not.” Jerry entered the room and Morty couldn’t help but groan.
Jerry frowned. “Are you that upset about being left here with me?”
“I’m alone with you?”
“You didn’t even know!?”
Morty tapped on his eyepatch and scanned the entire house. Once finished, his eyepatch informed him that there we no other residents in the house.
His shoulders slumped over. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Don’t look so unhappy about it!?” Jerry cried.
“What do you want?” Morty crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground.
Jerry took a deep breath. “Uhm… the printer won’t work. When I try to use it, the pages come out completely empty.”
Morty stared at him for a long moment.
Jerry stared back.
“Did you check if you replaced the ink?”
Jerry wore an unamused expression. “Oh, I definitely did. I bought new ones and everything.”
Morty let out a heavy sigh that gradually became a groan. He marched towards Jerry’s man cave where the printer was located.
Morty didn’t even need to get close to see the problem.
“Jerry,” He placed a hand on Jerry’s shoulder.
Jerry’s expression shifted into one of confusion. “Yes…?”
Morty smiled softly at him. “Do me a favor. First, go to the hospital. Second, have them check your eyes. And third, have them check your memory.”
Jerry pulled back. “Wh- what are you talking about!?”
Morty left the room. “You haven’t even taken the ink out of the packaging, dumbass.”
“What? No way! I totally—” Jerry spotted the unopened inks beside the printer.
In the distance, Morty heard Jerry call out to him. “S-sorry, Em! Thank you!”
Morty rolled his eyes. Now my day is ruined.
—
Morty entered the house with a stretch of his arms.
“W-wow, that place was cool.” Prime Morty was right behind him, dusting off his clothes.
“Mhm.” Morty hummed a response but he wasn’t really paying attention to what Prime was saying. He was too distracted by what he just got.
He looked down at his hand, a sparkly purple gem resting on his palm. The corner of his lip curled upwards. I can finally recreate some of my best tech…
Morty didn’t normally go out but he’s made it a rule to himself that if Prime asked him to “hangout”, then he’ll agree. Chances are, he can gather some materials from different dimensions. He can’t control where they go, of course, but it’s still really useful. Plus, I get to leave the house.
Prime stood around, awkwardly rubbing his hand. “I-I’ll go to my room now.” He said.
“Okay.” Morty gave him a small nod. God, he couldn’t wait to chug a litre of water down his throat.
The adventure was a little exhausting and there were no breaks the entire time so he didn’t have the time to re-energize. They were running so much that Morty’s throat was as dry as the Sahara desert.
With a wave, Prime went upstairs and Morty beelined to the kitchen.
His body flowed naturally. He grabbed a glass in the second cupboard, spun around then opened the fridge to grab the coldest water pitcher.
In the distance, he could faintly hear voices arguing.
“The remote is fine, it’s probably just a little low on juice…”
“You broke the remote.”
“I didn’t break it! I-I didn’t even do anything to it before now!”
“You touched it, so you broke it.”
“I’m gonna ignore how hurtful that was and just assume you meant the remote is old and malfunctioning.”
“Whatever. If we’re not gonna watch the Barbie movie then I’m gonna go.”
“W-wait, Summer!”
Morty hummed quietly to himself, filling the glass up.
Once finished, he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip.
He smiled. “Refreshi—”
“Oh, Em! Perfect timing!” Jerry exclaimed as he rushed into the kitchen.
Morty, without a second thought, went for the sliding door.
“Wait, wait, wait! Em!” In a panic, Jerry reached out and grabbed Morty’s arm.
Morty flinched, dropping the cup of water. He almost exploded Jerry on the spot but he managed to suppress the urge.
He tried pulling his arm out of Jerry’s grasp but failed. Are you kidding me?
“Sorry, sorry!” Jerry quickly let go of Morty’s arm, hands held up in surrender.
Morty rubbed at his arm then glared up at Jerry, expression twisting into a scowl. “What?”
Jerry practically cowered. “M-mind helping a version of your old man out and fixing the remote…?”
Morty gave him a small smile. “Jerry… didn’t you tell me before? You’re the man of the house,” He stared daggers into his eyes. “So fix it yourself.”
Jerry squirmed in place. “I know, I know! But please!” He presented the TV remote. “I promised Summer we’ll watch the Barbie Movie together but the remote is broken and if I can’t find the problem then Summer will—”
They both heard faint sounds of footsteps walking up the stairs.
Jerry yelped, rushing over to the living room. “Wait, Summer! Please! I-I’m almost done fixing i—”
“Give me that.” Morty snatched the remote out of Jerry’s hands and started fiddling with it. I have to do everything around here…
In just a couple of seconds, Morty had fixed the remote. He tested on the TV, deemed it worked, then shoved the remote into Jerry’s hand. “There. Now stop coming to me for stupid problems.”
Jerry beamed. “Thank you!” He grinned widely, turning to run for Summer but stopped.
He looked back at Morty. “Hey, uhm.. do you want to wat—?”
“Summer’s almost upstairs.”
“Oh- dammit!” He rushed to the stairs. “Summer, wait! I fixed the remote!”
Finally, it’s over. Morty let out a heavy sigh, rubbing half of his face. This was getting ridiculous. At this point, Jerry was starting to come to him for all his tech-related problems. Morty didn’t mind at first but this was getting annoying!
“All I wanted was a glass of water…” He muttered defeatedly, slowly grabbing another cup from the cupboards and filling it up with water once more.
In the corner of his eye, he could see Jerry excitedly leading Summer back to the couch.
He brought the glass up to his lips and took a long sip. I wonder what Jerry was gonna ask then.
—
Some random show played on the TV. Something about being real or cake.
Morty was sprawled out on the couch, just staring at the screen. He had a look of someone who just woke up from a horrible hangover—barely opened eyes, parted lips like he didn’t bother keeping them closed, messy hair—he looked dead.
Some cheering played on the TV and he sighed. I’m. So. Bored.
Jerry came downstairs. “Em?”
Morty debated whether or not he should answer.
After a couple minutes of awkward silence and Jerry probably just standing there all nervous, Morty begrudgingly sat up from his position and looked at Jerry. “What?”
Jerry held a device in his hands. “My phone’s all buggy and weird…”
Morty tilted his head. Well, whatever. At least I have something to do…
Morty beckoned Jerry to come over then took the phone.
“Probably just haven’t done a software update.” He said, swiping around.
“But this only started to happen after I downloaded an app.”
“What app?”
“Uh,” Jerry comes closer and points at the app. “This one. It was supposed to help optimize my phone but it only became glitchy after.”
Morty immediately ran to the nearest computer and plugged the phone in.
He stared at the screen and groaned. He started frantically typing.
Jerry followed quickly. “Wh-what is it? What’s wrong?”
Morty ran a hand through his hair, sighing tiredly. “What’s wrong is that now I have to get rid of twelve pieces of malware.”
—
“Aw, dammit! The car won’t start!” Jerry cried, trying to start the engine but all he got was a pathetic growl.
Morty walked outside with a milkshake in hand. “What happened?”
“I don’t know! The car won’t start.” Jerry frowns from inside the car.
With a heavy sigh, Morty gave the milkshake to Jerry then took a look at the engine.
Jerry waited, tapping the steeling wheel when he heard some strange noises and felt the car moving.
He poked his head out of the window. “What’s going on?”
“Just finding the problem.” Morty replied, head deep in the engine.
A couple minutes later, Morty came over to the window. “Your battery’s dead.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I replaced it already so it’s fine.”
“Oh, wow! I didn’t know you had spare batteries!” Jerry turned the key once more and lo and behold, it was actually working. “Thanks, Em!”
Morty hummed. I won’t mention that the thing that gave it fuel was an alien and the reason it wasn’t working was because it was dead…
Preparing to leave, Jerry tapped a button and the window slowly began to close..
Morty used a random part he removed from the car and blocked the window from closing. “My milkshake?”
Jerry froze.
Morty stared.
He narrowed his eyes. “You drank my milkshake, didn’t you?”
Jerry crumbled instantly, handing over the empty milkshake. “I’m sorry! You took a while…”
Morty snatched it away and started walking back to the house, flipping Jerry off in the process. “You owe me two milkshakes!”
—
“Em…”
Morty immediately walked away. “I am not your repair man!”
“But you’re so easy to contact!”
“Because I literally can’t leave?? And besides! You aren’t even paying me!”
“What will money do for you? Like, seriously. Do you really need money? Earth money?”
“…”
Morty slowly walked back to Jerry. “I still demand proper compensation.”
Jerry sighed, bowing his head. “If I had something for you, I would.”
Morty rubbed at his chin, thinking.
He smirked. “Milkshake for every stupid thing you need fixed.”
Jerry shrugged. “As long as they’re not expensive!”
—
Morty was in the middle of making something in his shack when he heard a knock on the door.
“Em… the lights won’t open.”
Morty groaned. “Go get someone else to fix it. Like a light repair guy.”
“Yeaaah, but…”
“But what?” Morty asked sharply, getting up from his chair and opening the door. “Why not?”
It better not be because I’m basically their prisoner.
Jerry fidgeted. His nervous demeanor did nothing to endear Morty to him.
Finally, he spoke. “Well.. I mean, come on. I’ve seen how quickly you can fix stuff. Why would I go to a repair guy when you can do it way better?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a little embarrassing to say this but I’m kinda jealous.”
Morty stared for a moment.
…Huh.
He walked past Jerry and into the house. “Which light?”
Jerry followed behind. “The kitchen.”
*
Jerry was standing on some stairs, hands stretched out as he fumbled with the wires on the ceiling light, tongue poking slightly out in concentration.
Morty was sitting on the ground, toying with the cover of the light.
“Did you get it?” Morty asked.
“Almost!” Jerry answered. “Just a little more and… yes!”
Morty clapped, getting up from the ground and handing the cover over to Jerry. “Now you know how to fix a ceiling light.”
Jerry puffed his chest out. “Yup! I guess you could say I’m pretty good.” He smirked as he took the cover and placed it over the light.
“You fix one light and suddenly you’re on top of the world.” Morty rolled his eyes, leaning back against a nearby counter.
Jerry looked unfazed. He stepped down the stairs. “Well, with a guy like me, I’ve gotta toot my own horn every once and a while.”
“That’s even sadder.” Morty stifled a smile.
He watched as Jerry grabbed the various tools on the ground and the stairs, going to put them away in the garage.
He tapped his fingers on the counter. My dad would’ve never let me do something like this.
The idea of dad, not only asking for help, but asking Morty for help? Letting himself be taught by his dumb son? That sounded like a fever dream.
But it isn’t.
Morty pursed his lips.
Eventually, Jerry came back, wiping the sweat from his forehead and still looking just as proud.
Morty ran a hand through his hair and looked at him unimpressed. “What? Did you put everything away all neat and tidy?”
Jerry laughed. “Well, yes! I did.”
“My god, you’re sadder than an abandoned cat in the rain.”
“Not the cat!” Jerry frowned sadly.
It went silent for a moment, and Morty took that as his cue to leave.
He got off the counter and began to walk away but—
“Uh, Em?” Jerry called out.
Morty stopped, turning around and tilting his head.
Jerry approached him cautiously, his earlier smugness turning into that familiar look of anxiety. Morty raised a brow.
Jerry hesitantly reached out, his hand hovering over Morty’s shoulder.. then quickly switching to rest on Morty’s head.
Morty froze.
Jerry doesn’t move his hand in any way, he just lets it stay there.
Eventually, he smiled. “Thanks again, Em.”
Morty’s eyes went wide.
…Dad wouldn’t do this either.
With a huff, Morty clenched his fists and averted his gaze. “Whatever… stop bothering me.”
Jerry chuckled, retracting his hand. “I’ll try to.”
He then pointed to the direction of the car. “Let’s get some milkshakes?”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
So… yeah.
Despite all his complaints, Morty somehow became Jerry’s personal repair guy.
He even adjusted the terms to make it so that his compensation isn’t just milkshakes and can be anything he wants to eat.
And because Jerry is as helpless as a baby chick, Morty has to deal with this at least three times a week.
So he eats more often now.
Morty says he hates this stupid arrangement and finds it ridiculous that the adult is seeking help from a child (a version of his son no less), but whatever. It’s not like he can really do anything about it.
Morty smiled at the milkshake in his hand. He moved the straw to his lips then took one a large sip.
He leaned back. Ahhh, that’s good.
Prime couldn’t take it anymore. “Will you get your feet off me?”
“Hm?” Morty opened his eye. “Oh, Morty. You’re here. Sorry, it’s just.. you’re such a great leg rest.”
Prime glared at him. “I will break each and every one of your toes.”
Morty placed a hand on his chest. “So hostile, what did I ever do?”
“Do you want a list???”
“Y’know, you need a milkshake.” Morty toyed with the straw. “What’s the saying? Have a break, have a milkshake?”
“It’s ‘have a break, have a KitKat’, dumbass.”
“Eh, close enough.” Morty offered his milkshake. “C’mon, try some.”
Prime continued to glare at him.
Morty gently rocked the milkshake from side-to-side. “Come on, don’t be shy. It’s really good.”
Prime rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, turning away from him. “Just drink your stupid milkshake.”
Morty shrugs. “Your loss.” And he took a sip.
I guess this isn’t... so bad.