Chapter Text
A trillionth of an infinity exists within a golden arc. A floating castle at the edge of the galaxy serves as a grand home. Within this space, no one knows how many life forms it can hold. It could be a million, or infinite.
The endless possibilities of Rick and Morty. Today, the Citadel remains bustling. Spaceships float by, explosions erupt, and Rick and Morty bicker.
Normal
Rick and Morty's safest place. Every life here is driven by a different role. No one knows who determines who. Everyone lives in a cycle.
A modern spaceship pulls up in front of a tall building in the Citadel. The man driving it is dressed in a sleek black suit, his face obscured by sunglasses. One ear has a communication device hooked onto it. His long fingers press the button. The door on the other side of the ship opens.
Another man in a white suit and black tie steps into the passenger seat and closes the door.
His pale blue eyes lack the usual sunglasses of the other man sitting beside him. The ship takes off. They are identical in every way, typical of Rick.
And they're twins.
Rick, the black-suited bodyguard, had a gold Citadel pin on his lapel, while Rick, the white-suited one, had a silver pin.
"Hey guys, how was your day?"
"Another boring day. When did you get back?"
"Two hours ago," White replied, sighing and leaning back in his car seat. Black glanced over his glasses and asked.
"Wanna go get dinner?"
"Sure, I'm starving. My usual spot."
"I got you."
Richard and Ricardo Sanchez, the brilliant scientist twins from Dimension Alpha D1-83, invented the portal gun and were invited to the Citadel.
They didn't have Diane, Beth Summers, or Morty.
They thought his power shouldn't be held back by anything, and life in the Citadel wasn't so bad.
Richard, or Mr. Black, is the Citadel's chief bodyguard, while Ricardo, or Mr. White, is the Citadel's top secret agent.
However, they get along well with Morty, who works in Mortytown. Rick, the secret agent, and Rick, the bodyguard, enjoy hanging out and having dinner at a restaurant near Mortytown.
The spaceship docked in the VIP area. A tall man with pale blue hair and a black and white suit walked into the restaurant. There were plenty of Ricks and Morties in the restaurant. Neither of them stood out much from the other Ricks.
Black walked straight to his reserved table. White walked to the other side, towards the bar, where a couple of Morties were bustling about. One was different: tall, with long hair, looking older, a thin teenager, with bags under his eyes, and a bright, fake smile.
"Oh, hi. What would you like to drink, Rick? Vodka or a space cocktail?"
Morty, the bartender, greeted him, moving to face the tall customer.
"Hey, Morty, all of you, and BB. It's been a while. Have you forgotten your regular customers? Hmm?"
White sat down in his chair, flashing an irresistible smile.
"There are so many Ricks here, how would I remember you?"
Morty, the bartender, or BB, replied, both hands moving nimbly between the glasses and the mixer.
"You're mean, Morty, when I remember you so well."
The brown mullet-haired man looked up, trying to keep his expression neutral. Soon, a pale blue drink with lemon on the rim was handed to Mr. White.
"You're a Rick, and everyone's a Rick."
Mr. White smirked, humming a tune cheerfully. The drink he hadn't ordered yet was the kind of alcohol Rick liked when he came to this bar. White's regular drink.
They'd chatted and argued for a bit, before the large tip was directly credited to BB's account. The brown-haired bartender could only keep his frustration at bay, letting Mr. White ruffle his hair and mutter under his breath.
Black sat at the table, opened the menu, and ordered three or four dishes. Morty, dressed in a tuxedo-like but more streamlined waiter's uniform and an apron tied around his waist, had his brown hair neatly combed, and beads of sweat were beading down his face. He had a small smile on his face, and he was clearly exhausted.
"Having a rough day?" Mr. Black asked. Morty, the waiter, looked up, a confused expression on his face. His brown eyes stared at Rick for a moment, then whispered back.
"Yes, Mr. Black. A lot to deal with."
"It seems like a bad day for Morty."
"I suppose, especially for a Morty who's been left behind like me. Well, would you like anything else?"
"Um, two large double cheese pizzas to take home, and a chocolate lava cake for dessert."
"Yes, sir. Please wait a moment."
Morty smiled, set the transmitter on the table, and hurriedly brought the order to the kitchen. Mr. Black's pale blue eyes followed the young man as far as he could see. Mr. White returned to the table with two drinks in hand.
"It's looking chaotic today. The restaurant is incredibly crowded"
White complained, handing the drink to his twin, gazing at the scene with an unreadable expression.
"Yeah, it's annoyingly chaotic"
Black replied.
"It's less time for fun these days. Oh my, should I give them a raise?"
"Don't ask me for my opinion when you're already done it, White."
The White Grim Reaper shrugged, smirked, and glanced at BB, who was working at the bar happily. Black looked at Mormor, who was running around serving food.
The Rick twins don't have Morty of their own. They have favorites...
By the time they got off work, it was past 9 p.m.
Mormor and BB were older Morties. They were 18, quite different from most Morties. However, their physical appearances were similar tall, thin, malnourished, and overworked. The smile had disappeared from their faces, and the exhaustion was evident.
Neither of them had their own Ricks, and they were abandoned...by clones, or perhaps for some other reason.
They struggled to find work at The Citadel, eventually finding jobs at a restaurant near Mortytown. Having been there for so long, Mormor and BB were Assistant Head Waiter and Bartender.
The salary wasn't as high as Rick's, but it was enough to cover the monthly rent.
After work, the couple practically lay flat on the floor, their bodies aching and their spirits on the verge of collapse. Mormor would sit on the marble bench behind the restaurant for nearly 10 minutes to recharge, while BB waited.
"They're here today,"
Bibi said softly, opening a bottle of water and handing it to Mormor.
"I saw it. At first, I thought I'd mistaken them, but then they came back. I'd been idling for almost 10 minutes while Rick read the menu, even though he'd ordered the same thing,"
Mormor replied with a smirk before standing up and drinking half a bottle of water.
"I don't know. Hmm they're different."
"Hey B they're still Rick in the end."
"I know... but..."
Beep!
A loud horn blared, startling both BB and Mormor. The latest state-of-the-art spaceship landed nearby. Two men, dressed in bartender and waiter uniforms, widened their eyes.
The glass window rolled down, revealing pale blue hair and white suits, dangerous smiles and mysterious ice-blue eyes. Across the hall stood a man in black.
Mr. Black and Mr. White
"Hey, I think I found a lost sheep. Do you want me to give you a ride?"
White asked, commanding with his actions. He pressed the back door, signaling, "Come on up."
BB and Mormor looked at each other, lost in thought, trying to figure out how to refuse. The Black and White Reaper was always like this, always offering kindness whenever he could.
"Come on up. I'm not experimenting on you guys. Hurry up."
"Ah thanks. Thanks Mr. White. Come on, M."
BB took her partner's hand and quickly led them up. As soon as they were seated in the back seat, the spaceship's door closed.
BB and M sat tense. They were not used to the Rick Twins' wealth, even though it wasn't the first time they'd been dropped off at their dorm.
"Take the pizza boxes in the back M. I don't want any rotten cheese on my ship."
Mr. Black replied in a deep voice, a smirk on his lips. Mormor, wide-eyed, quickly turned around, peering into the plastic bag containing two large pizza boxes. He picked them up and placed them in his lap.
"Thank you, Mr. Black. You're so kind."
There was no response. Two pairs of ice-blue eyes exchanged glances before a mysterious laugh erupted. It sounded like the song of a ghost, eager to know if it was a temptation or a blessing.
The whispers of BB and Mormor continued to echo for a few moments before they finally quieted down. They were both asleep, calm and relaxed.
"How about we drive around a few more times?"
White suggested.
"Of course it was"
Black agreed.
The twins' spaceship circled over Mortytown for nearly an hour before finally stopping in front of a boarding house Morty owned.
Soon, Morty's security guard ran out to retrieve the sleeping resident from the venerable Rick of the Citadel.
White didn't forget to tip the security guard, Morty, who escorted BB and M to their rooms.
The luxurious spaceship departed, heading back toward the center of town, back to their quarters.
The Rick twins didn't have Morty, but they had a favorite.