Chapter Text
He was totally, irreversibly fucked today.
Morty stared at his little sparkly cereal pieces floating in milk and tried to keep his eyes open, but to his tired dismay, his vision blurred, and he felt the spoon he held slowly slipping from his fingers, an inevitable crash at the end of its slippery journey. He knew he could tighten his fingers but that just felt like such a chore and he had managed to keep his eyes open, hadn’t he? That must count for something, a show of his iron-will, his strength, a sign that he had, in fact, slept 8 hours last night, and he was clear-eyed and attentive and…
A harsh clatter met his ears and he blinked awake, staring at his spoon innocently lying on the table next to the bowl. With a muttered curse he picked it up and resumed his slow eating of soggy and mushy cereal.
Jerry sat down across from him, placing his own bowl of cereal, and snatched the tablet lying on the table. The sound of it turning on, the cheerful little sound effects, grated against his ears and transformed into an uncomfortable pulsing in his head. Goddammit, why did it have to be so unnecessary loud?
“Hey, sport, how’s it going?” Jerry’s cheerful voice replaced the sounds and Morty grimaced. Why did they both have to be so unnecessary loud so early in the morning?
“Good, good!” Jerry went on, “Did you know, I found a really cool game last night, ugh, Crash something, well, anyways, there are these goblin-warriors and helpers running around camp and I already raided, like, several other goblin-fests, and, get this, I even succeeded in one!” He started wildly swiping at the tablet. If Morty had the energy to open his mouth and form words, he would have said shut up, but, alas, Jerry continued, “And there’s this former classmate from high-school who I’m so close to beating, I only need—“
A loud thud sounded from the other end of the table as a plate with scrambled eggs and sausages was placed down, a glass of wine joining it. Starting early today. Morty felt his lips twist to a grimace and he concentrated on his cereal.
Beth sat down. “Shut up, Jerry.”
The man was opening his mouth when Summer walked in and sat down with her own plate next to their dad. “Get a job, Dad.”
“Well, let me just say that—“
“That what-what, Jerry?” Rick sat down next to Morty, a steaming mug of coffee joining their merry merry breakfast feast. His face was paler than usual, or maybe it was the deep bags under his eyes that created such an image, and his voice was a bit gruffer than usual. Morty though he could smell a bit of alcohol wafting from the coffee. Whatever reason for Grandpa Rick to stay up late had been, it had nothing to do with him, Morty had, for once, slept, so why did he feel so tired?
“How much did you spend already on the game? Ten dollars?” Rick asked, slurping at his coffee with a little smirk. Definitely spiked with something.
“I—“
“Twenty?”
“I did not—“
“Oh god, you actually spent twenty dollars on the game, didn’t you?”
Jerry stared at his tablet in silence, not willing to meet eyes with anyone. Small spots of pink appeared on his cheeks and he resolutely continued swiping at the tablet. Like Rick was to talk, what with his gambling problems and all-around lack of care with money. Morty would have snorted sarcastically if he, well, had the energy.
“You’re such a Jerry.”
Jerry’s hand, which had been swiping at the tablet a bit slower than before, jerked to the side and his untouched bowl with cereal flew back and off the table.
“Jerry! You complete idiot.” Beth downed the glass of wine and stood up. Here we go again. Morty sighed, continued to eat his cereal and wished he was somewhere, anywhere else. Maybe it was time for him to get to school, when his butt gets unstuck from the very comfortable chair. “It better be cleaned up when I come back from the conference. Bad enough I have to listen to some rich-snobs talking about horse surgery, like they know anything, but I also have to deal with your mess at home!”
“Beth!” Jerry whined.
“Yeah, Jerry, don’t you have any shame, leeching off of my daughter and wasting her hard-earned money?”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“Do I look like I—“
“It wasn’t my–”
“—care whether or not you meant it. You already wasted—“
“Beth!” Jerry’s voice came out unnaturally high and, despite his drooping eyes, Morty turned to look at him more carefully. Wild eyes looked back in panic.
“Jerry, I—“ Beth fell silent and Morty could see the moment she noticed Jerry’s pale face. It wasn’t the face of another ordinary breakfast fight, courtesy of Smith family, and even Rick lifted one side of his unibrow.
“I can’t feel my side, oh god, I can’t...“
Rick stood up, walked around the table and stopped, staring at something below the table. “That’s… interesting.”
Beth stood up and started to turn when she too was transfixed by something Morty couldn’t see. He stood up and went around the table. Near Jerry the fallen bowl was floating in air, milk and cereal scattered in the air near it.
Rick grabbed Jerry’s face, turning it this way and that, peering into his eyes. “Calm down, Jerry.”
“Calm, calm down?” Jerry squeaked. From where he was standing, Morty could see Jerry’s side, which the man was holding carefully, but it didn’t look like anything was wrong with it. Jerry continued to blabber and Morty could feel the beginnings of anxiety curling in his stomach.
“It feels so cold, what is happening, Rick?”
Rick grunted and poked him in the side non-too gently, but Jerry didn’t react, and Rick frowned. “Did you – bleugh- you go sneaking through my things? I told you to keep your ass away from there.”
“I didn’t, Rick! I swear, I—“
“Dad, what is wrong with Jerry?” Beth said and crossed her arms. “I have to go in ten minutes and I don’t want to be late.”
“Don’t worry—“
Rick had started comforting Beth when suddenly Jerry cried out, his face twisted into a grimace, and Morty startled, sleep all but forgotten, and twisted his t-shirt in his hands.
Jerry’s hands flew to his neck. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, I don’t want to die, I’ll start attending church, I swear, I, I will donate five, no, ten dollars! I’ll even stop stealing floral-smelling cream from Summer—“
“Hey!”
“—just please, oh god, don’t…”
Silence fell upon the room. Jerry’s face was still as stone and his mouth still open on an unspoken word, but no sound came through.
“I have to go, Dad. You sure you can handle it?” Beth said.
Rick placed a soothing hand on her forearm. “Of course, sweetie. You just go, don’t worry.”
A sigh left her lips, but she turned and walked away, disappearing from the dining room. Summer stood up from her chair and followed her, rapidly texting something to her friends.
“Wait, Mom, give me a lift to school!” She followed Beth and her voice trailed off.
Morty looked at Rick, but the man didn’t look worried and was in the process of unscrewing his flask.
“W-what happened to Jerry, Rick?” he asked, still looking at his dad.
“Bleaugh, d-don’t get your panties in a twist, Morty, I-I got this. Go to school, or something, dumb yourself, whatever, I don’t care.”
“Oh geez, R-Rick, you sure?”
Rick rolled his eyes and gestured with his flask in the general direction of the corridor, “Don’t be a dweeb, Morty, just go.”
Morty swallowed, looked at Jerry again and nodded. It didn’t seem like anyone else was concerned, so probably no need to worry for him either. Rick had this in control.
"O-okay, I-I'll just..." He gestured floppily in the direction of the corridor, "go…"
Morty slipped away from the room, grabbed his empty bag from the floor and exited the house, tiredness and sleepiness quickly and efficiently taking over his mind again. He sighed. There was no way he will be able to concentrate in school today. Why the fuck was he so tired?!
Morty peeled his eyelids open, trying to see past the blur at the blackboard, but the damned letters or numbers or whatever was there wasn’t cooperating and his eyelids slipped close once again. His head dipped forward, held only by his aching arms, the sound around him dimmed, and he relaxed, letting himself lay down on his desk. His arms, instead of holding his head, were pillowing it and the gentle, calm darkness around him was so soothing and comfortable, considering it was a desk he was practically stretched out on.
A few minutes of resting wouldn't hurt, would it? It was probably just some stupid irrelevant lesson. Yeah, he should just... Rest his eyes, so he would have more energy for real class, like algebra, or math, or numbers, or...
"Morty!" He startled awake, his eyes having trouble focusing, and Rick’s form swam into his focus slowly. He looked up and blinked groggily at his grandpa. Why was he here?
“Come on, Morty,” Rick said, illuminated by a green portal behind him before it sealed up. “We gotta – gotta go, man. I would leave you to your no doubt worthwhile education, but there’s – bleugh – there’s been a problem.”
Morty felt his heart pulse with the word ‘problem’, but nonetheless stood up.
Rick grabbed his arm, shot a portal and dragged him through. The garage filled his vision.
The idle from of Jerry, his body contorted the way it was when he was sitting in his chair, was propped against the wall.
“He looks like he’s trying to do yoga, but it’s not really working for him.” Morty said.
“Heh, would be more fun seeing him fall over.” A smirk stretched over Rick’s thin lips. “Listen, M-Morty, as much as I’m glad to be free for a few hours from Jerry’s annoying presence and his inability to fucking keep his fingers off my – bleugh – my things, I s-s-stumbled upon a problem. I was going to make Jerry give me his ‘emergency day’ money, but now I don’t k-know where it is and he’s so dumb I can’t suffer through thinking where he would hide it.”
Morty blinked, “What?”
“The m-money, Morty, do you know where he keeps it?”
“Y-y-you can’t do t-that!” he said, glaring at his grandpa.
Rick rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a dick, Morty.”
“Besides, where’s y-your money?”
"I spent it on a megaplasmic inverted pulse particle, that bad boy can blast right through the human skull on the lowest setting, Morty, and there are thirteen levels, Morty, that shit is lit."
Morty narrowed his eyes, "You spent it on alcohol again, didn’t you?”
"Uuugh..." Rick swatted him over the head, "Don't be an idiot. I could totally get it – bleugh – for cheaper." Rick sighed and took out his flask, twisting the cap in his hands. "I need it to pay for the FluffDuffleWaffles™.
“D-do you remember the FluffDuffleWaffles™, Morty, do you? That sweet sweet taste melting in your mouth, that softness that makes you feel like y-you’re on clouds, Morty.”
“The thick caramel syrup, d-dripping from the very top of the pile, so e-elegant, so magnificent, like a masterpiece…” Morty continued and saliva gathered in his mouth. He swallowed and felt his stomach grumble for the first time that day.
Rick hummed and stared into the distance, probably consumed by the memories of those damn magnificent waffles.
Morty sighed. “I’ll get you the money if you find out w-what’s wrong with Dad, Rick.”
“Ugh!” Rick spun on his wheel, strode to his desk and started pushing piles of things off it, searching for something. “You’re such a dweeb, Morty.” He took a deep gulp from his flask.
"You'll, you'll have to help me build a scanner. The last one broke while ---bleuagh – while we were harvesting the Werot flower and–"
"Y-you mean w-while I was h-h-har – while I was picking the flowers and a monster decided to eat me–"
"–and I haven't yet made another one," Rick finished, his eyes narrowed, and Morty sighed. He ignored his fluttering exhale and wiped his sweaty hands against his t-shirt. He felt a little clammy since that morning and hoped he wasn’t going down with some sort of sickness, or, god forbid, alien sickness. He shuddered as he remembered the last one he had to go through. That had not been… pleasant.
Rick started pulling out various tools from various places, despite the overall chaos of the place, “Don’t fuck – blaugh – fuck up again, M-Morty.” He took a deep gulp from his flask.
His arm twitched involuntary. "Yeah, yeah, it's just a scanner."
"It would be just a scanner if I had the right parts. But we-we don't have time so I'll just have to use the synthetic miscanthus dust rather than the—“
Rick was gesturing with his hands and Morty followed the movement. He was just so tired… He eyed the only chair by the desk. Should he sit down? His legs quivered and he gulped. It would be–
Rick sighted noisily and Morty jerked to look at him again.
“Just, I'll just have to use other means, more unstable ones than I usually do, so I need you to-to help me."
As Rick fell into his chair, the only chair, Morty swallowed and approached Rick’s desk. Rick’s slender fingers were grabbing bizarre looking objects and tools off his desk and Morty locked his knees. His eyes followed Rick’s slender fingers as he twisted cables, screwed in screws and connected wires.
“G-give me the wrench over there, Morty.” Rick gestured to the right, basically sweeping all over the garage and Morty sighed and stepped away, rubbing his eyes.
He cast a critical gaze over his grandpa’s shelf and grabbed the first wrench-looking tool. From all his experience helping Rick construct something, most of the time any tool would do and, if it didn’t, he would have more luck just picking tools randomly than go looking based on Rick’s stupid descriptions.
He held the tool in front of Rick’s face, but the man didn’t look up, and Morty had enough, he just wanted to go and find a place where he could be horizontal, so he bumped Rick on the head with a world-weary sigh.
“T-t-the fuck, Morty?!” Rick’s narrowed eyes glared at him, “Feisty today, a-a-aren’t we?”
Even though Rick’s words were harsh Morty could hear the unasked question behind it. “I’m f-fine. Just tired, so would you please hurry up, so I can go to bed already.”
Rick rubbed at his head and snatched the wrench away, Morty’s arm falling to hang by his side. “Absolutely no gratefulness in this-this household.”
A snort passed his lips. “Like you’re one to talk, Rick.”
The man leaned over the device again, resuming his work. “Whatever.” Slender fingers were screwing a tiny nail in with a screwdriver, his fingers steady on the tool, thumb absently rubbing against the yellow rubber.
Morty turned away and leaned against the desk again and his eyes fell shut on their own accord. It’s not like he had any hope that he would fall asleep on his feet, if only for a few moment of rest, and his fatigued muscles were happy to let him know that standing was not something they appreciated. The moment Rick was done, Morty would retreat to his room and his bed and not emerge until next morning. Who needed food when there was the promise of sleep?
“Shit!”
Morty jerked in his spot, almost falling over, before grabbing into the desk. Weary eyes blinked at the swimming device-in-progress in Rick’s hands. Oh god, the idea of sitting down had never felt more tempting than it did now. He rested his hip against the desk and blinked heavily.
“The fuck, Rick?” he said.
“I’m missing the frankz crystal. I forgot I sold the last one to some little shit a week ago.”
“And?”
Narrowed eyes glanced at him. “A-And? No crystal means no scanner.”
“Just find something else, Rick. I don’t have time for this.”
“What, gonna cut into your private-me time?” Rick sneered, and critical eyes swept over him. The flask once again reappeared in Rick’s hands. “Nothing I can do then. I have no fucking idea what’s wrong with the dipshit, but at least it’s not contagious. I think.”
“Y-y-y-you think?! Rick, fix him or something!”
“Don’t – bleugh – don’t worry, Morty, I got this. I’ll just activate robot Jerry when Beth gets home and I’m sure Jerry will just, just… stand up or something, if only to a-annoy me further.” He shook his flask with a critical eye and a drop of liquid resonated from the bottle. “Now, will you give me Jerry’s money?”
“W-w-what? Of course not!” Morty spun on his heel and walked towards the exit, “You didn’t fix him, y-y-you don’t get the money.”
“Oh, come on! I’ll turn you into space dust for that.”
Morty rolled his eyes, “You turn me into dust and you’re not seeing that money, Rick,” and continued his trek to his bed. Finally, he could lie down again. Maybe, when Mom returned, she would give him something for this headache he was starting to develop.