Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13096041.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/_Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez_Smith, Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Rick_and_Morty_-_Freeform, Slash_Fiction, Rick_Sanchez/_Morty_Smith_-
      Freeform, violent_rape, Forced_Incest, young/_old, Mental_Illness, MPD,
      Multiple_Personality_Disorder, Rick_abuses_Morty, dick_sucking, ass
      fucking, Morty_snaps, Morty_kills_Rick, Rick_never_existed?, Rick_DOES
      exist, No_Escape
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-22 Words: 2715
****** I Want It Real (MORTY Personality Disorder) ******
by AnonymosityAnnie
Summary
     Rick and Morty share an inexplicable psychic connection, leading to
     Rick’s realization that Morty has a reoccurring dream wherein Rick
     brutally rapes him over and over again... and Morty WANTS it.
      
     This is a very rough draft, prematurely posted to ensure it doesn’t
     get lost in the mix until I’ve smoothed things out.
     ... That said, mind the gaps.
Morty heard Rick before he saw ANYTHING, eyes struggling to adjust as they
slowly opened to take in the sight of him- seemingly aglow from the dimly lit
hallway beyond his bedroom door.
“You were dreaming again.” He whispered, quietly closing the door behind him
before crossing the room to climb up onto the bed with the kid.
“Ahem...” Morty cleared his throat awkwardly, trembling as the man threw a leg
over his covered hips and lowered himself down onto an increasingly anxious
young erection. “p-PRIVACY, Rick? Ever heard of it?”
“You dream too fucking loud to bitch about privacy, Morty.” He muttered evenly.
“I heard you moaning my n-name. In my HEAD, no less. Kinda hard to tune that
shit out in the middle of the fucking night, yanno?”
“So DISCONNECT!”
“I told you, Morty.” Rick hissed- grinding down on him a little harder and
barely suppressing a groan when he felt Morty unconsciously arch his hips up
into him in turn, hard lengths pressing together through the covers. “I can’t
just ‘DISCONNECT’.
If I could, I WOULD.”
It had been a few weeks since Morty first became aware of the inexplicable
“psychic link” between he and his ingeniously eccentric grandfather. Painfully
aware, Rick having had a giant hole shot straight through his torso that should
have instantaneously killed him- but DIDN’T, due to the convenient locale.
Nobody dies on the Whirly-Dirly... though pain still registers loud and clear.
Rick’s certainly did, so much so that Morty was damn near DEAFENED by the
scream in his head all the way back on Earth.
It hadn’t lasted long, but was deeply traumatic nonetheless.
The connection, Rick claimed, had always been and would always BE. It was
intrinsic, like the complementary brainwaves that allowed any given Morty to
serve as a sort of “cloaking device” for Ricks. Mortys just didn’t tend to
realize this link was there, a permanent part of their genetic makeup...
because Mortys were oblivious to all things that didn’t involve eating,
sleeping, or their perpetually throbbing DICKS.
While Rick, for all his genius brainwaves were worth, had been hearing his
emotionally fragile grandson’s unspoken soliloquies for far longer than he
cared to admit.  Pretty much from day one, when the kid broke every bone from
the waist down EXCEPT the one between his legs.
“W-why the actual FUCK were you moaning my name like that, Morty?” Rick asked
him quietly, brow arching quizzically over a narrowed gaze as the kid’s face
positively blazed in response. He leaned down over him, Morty suddenly
realizing- with a fresh wave of anxiety- that the heated grinding was very much
intentional rather than a drunkenly clumsy loss of familial propriety.
“I... I guess I felt like I was in danger, Rick.” Morty lied in a subdued
monotone, not wanting to set him off. Or MORE ‘off’ than he clearly already
was. “I was dr-dreaming that something was hurting me and I called out to you
for help, Rick, but you weren’t... you weren’t around.”
Rick’s eyes burned into Morty’s, gradually filling with some obscure emotion
the kid didn’t quite recognize in him.  Something Rick, himself, might have
been hard-pressed to define as seen through Morty’s wide and reflective orbs.
“But I WAS ‘around’, Morty.” He finally whispered after a lengthy silence had
passed between them, breathing harder as he bit out every syllable. “I was
right fucking THERE, Morty. RIGHT BEHIND YOU.
I was the something ‘hurting’ you! Except y-YOU, Morty... well, you weren’t
really ‘hurt’ at all. WERE you?
Now TELL ME WHY YOU WERE MOANING MY NAME!”
Morty was suddenly hurled back into it, head spinning and wide eyes
meaningfully locking with Rick’s in a present tense positively made of TENSION
as he spiraled uncontrollably into the dark and all-too-recent past. Back into
the dream, where Rick was violently shoving him down over the hull of his ship
and slamming his cock so far up his virgin ass that Morty could fucking TASTE
it with every ruthlessly passionate thrust. Where he was crying uncontrollably
even as he begged Rick to never, EVER stop fucking him.
Morty didn’t answer Rick’s loaded-gun question... posing one of his own,
instead, as those wide and seemingly innocent eyes narrowed angrily upon the
man.
“... H-how long have you been able to SEE my thoughts as well, Rick?”
“AWHILE.” Came the vaguely grim admission- a little too quickly for Morty’s
liking, too HOSTILE, Rick flinching noticeably when it just sort of slipped out
before he could think up a believable lie of his own.
“Awhile” was Rick-speak for “ALWAYS, you little idiot”.
Just like that, Morty was out of deep dark secrets. Out of excuses to go on
behaving as though there was nothing wrong with him, with them, with their
entire RELATIONSHIP. Rick’s secrets were, however, still another story
entirely. Morty realized as much when the man remained atop him- still
mindlessly rutting against his hips with a look so painstakingly restrained and
conflicted upon his face that Morty couldn’t quite quantify it, couldn’t
identify any one underlying motive.
 He wasn’t even certain that Rick realized what he was doing, anymore.
... Until his elder dropped the rest of the way down onto him, legs curling
around Morty’s possessively to keep their lower extremities firmly pressed
together as their lips collided in a volatile explosion of teeth and tongue.
Rick- breath shuddering with his every effort- dragged the bedding out from
between them before hastily shoving down his slacks. Morty followed his lead
without so much as a hesitant thought- gasping as their hard, heated members
met and Rick broke away to roughly bite at his neck.
“You really don’t get how fucked up this is, DO you?” Rick breathed roughly
into his ear as Morty’s smaller body mirrored his every movement. “You have no
earthly fucking IDEA, you stupid little...”
He reached down between them to briefly and callously stroke them both in one
tight hand, drawing a wanton wail from the kid before repositioning himself-
hips pumping violently to slide his length in between instinctively clenched
cheeks with a heated groan.
“... you little ASSHOLE.” Rick concluded- slamming into him without warning or
pretense, rearing up until they were nose-to-nose and screaming in the kid’s
frightened face as he bottomed out inside him with one brutally powerful thrust
of his hips.
Nerves flared to life inside the boy with every thick inch of penetrated flesh
as Rick’s steely cock was driven inside him to the hilt... nerves Morty had
never known were even there, like so many things as of late. He screamed
incoherently back at the man as his legs were lifted up over narrow shoulders
and Rick began pounding into him, hands clutching his upper thighs for a more
controlled impact.
“You th-think I ‘don’t understand’ just how fucked up I am, DREAMING about this
shit?” Morty challenged, meeting his every thrust as best he could in his
limited position with pained little whimpers.
“Maybe... maybe not.” Rick grunted, speeding up as Morty clenched down around
him. “Either way, you WILL before I’m done with you.”
He pulled out with a squelching POP, effortlessly lifting Morty up off the bed
before carelessly dropping him back down onto his stomach and shoving his knees
forward until his ass was sticking up invitingly in the air before him. Nails
digging into bony little hips, he pumped the swollen head of his cock in and
out of the blood-tinged little orifice hidden between smooth adolescent
asscheeks.
“How’s this for fucked up?” He seethed, slowly pushing his cock a little deeper
with every sharp snap of his hips. He was practically drooling on those cheeks
as he watched his member gradually disappear inside him. He could feel Morty
coming unhinged around it, a pleasant vibration around his shaft beckoning him
onward.
Morty sobbed.
“What the fuck are you crying about, Morty?”
“You’re h-h-hurting me!”
“So TELL ME TO FUCKING STOP, if you don’t want it!” Rick roared. He froze then
with his cock as far inside Morty as it could possibly go, his pelvic bones
digging into abused little ass cheeks as he bared in as hard as he could to
ensure maximum pain.
He bent over him then- hugging Morty to his chest as he spoke, voice dropping
to a hiss, directly into his ear. “Go on and SAY IT, Morty. SAY YOU DON’T WANT
ME this way!”
Morty’s breathing becoming erratically rapid and labored, he wrapped his arms
around his pillow and buried his face in it to stifle himself... either
refusing or incapable of saying anything more in that moment, much less meaning
whatever might have come out in the heat of the moment.
It was maddening, Rick redoubling his efforts and fucking Morty’s ass as if to
break the kid clean in half. Determined to break SOMETHING before he was done.
... And then he felt it happen. Felt Morty sobbing in earnest, felt the intense
vibration of him screaming hysterically into the pillow as blood slowly pooled
on the blanket beneath them.
W-w-WHY, Rick? Why are you doing this to me?!” He sobbed brokenly into his
pillow a split-second before Rick triumphantly flipped him over onto his back
again- dragging him down to the end of the bed by one ankle and shoving thighs,
tinged a bright red, apart to kneel between them.
“I don’t know the answer to that question, Morty... but here’s a better one.”
His fingers curled tightly around the kid’s shaft and squeezed, HARD. “Why are
you MAKING me do this to you... huh? What the fuck is going on in that twisted
little noggin, baby boy?”
Morty screamed as the weeping head of his dick was enrapt in velvety, wet heat-
Rick groaning around it as he began sucking him off with rapidly mounting
urgency. His tongue delved into the salty-slick slit at it’s peak before his
hand vanished, taking Morty’s length all the way into his hot mouth and
straight down his tight throat. He swallowed repeatedly as he pumped his own
cock, unable to resist the urge.
“I’ll tell, Rick. I’ll t-tell mom EVERYTHING!”
Rick glared up into Morty’s swimming eyes, scoffing.
“Y-you do that, Morty.” He whispered upon pulling off of him, a dark smile
spreading across his face. “You tell EVERYONE aaaaall about it.”
He went back to sucking Morty’s dick, pointedly maintaining intense eye-contact
as he bobbed slowly up and down on him. Morty’s tears fell freely, face flushed
scarlet as his breathing became shallow and shakier.
In an abrupt reversal of roles, he grabbed either side of the man’s head to
keep him there and fucked violently up into Rick’s wicked mouth even as he
continued begging him to stop... and then some.
“Fuck you, Rick.” He cursed, holding on tighter than Rick might’ve guessed him
capable of doing. “You couldn’t- c-couldn’t just let me have this ONE thing,
one lousy DREAM to myself. Fucking monster!”
He felt Rick struggle wildly atop his outstretched legs and finally exploded
with a scream, pushing the man’s face down into his soft curls as cum gushed
down the man’s tight throat. Felt him weaken little by little as he held him
down to keep his air supply cut off.
Felt him go completely and utterly limp.
Morty screamed... the sharp sound of unhinged rage gradually transforming into
one of profound grief as his bedroom door was nearly knocked straight off it’s
hinges, hitting the wall behind it with the resounding THUD! of his own
reckoning as Jerry stumbled into the room looking full-on FRANTIC.
They were busted, still naked and covered in Morty’s wild juices. Jerry had
caught them in the act.
He’d caught MORTY, rather. Morty... mouth-fucking Rick’s fresh CORPSE.
Jerry came to stand half-in and half-out of the room as he absorbed the scene
with mounting awkwardness noticeably splattered across his face like a fresh
splash of blood-red paint.
“Christ, Morty!” He griped with an awkwardly charged grimace of disgusted
shock. “Ever heard of closing and LOCKING the goddamn door of you’re gonna rub
one out?!”
“Ever heard of waiting for a goddamn answer before bursting, UNINVITED, through
a closed fucking door... DICK?!” Morty snapped back- suddenly sounding, even to
himself, nothing like himself at all. Sounding more like the man lying dead
between his splayed legs. His father would know, based on those two factors
alone, that Morty was completely out of his mind. His MURDEROUS fucking mind. A
danger not only to himself, but all those around him. Like Rick, he’d be going
away... quite possibly for GOOD. Killer kids were beyond what might be
understood in the lesser minds of most.
He waited, on pins and needles, for the gravity of the situation to hit his
father. For panic, intervention, CONDEMNATION.
Jerry didn’t seem to be experiencing ANY of those things, however... his
expression nothing more or less than incredibly UNCOMFORTABLE as he wracked his
feeble brain for words that simply wouldn’t come.
“IIIIIIIIII’m just gonna let you get back to your... you know.” He mumbled,
averting his eyes as he stepped slowly backward and out of the room. “Your
WHATEVER the hell this is. Just try to maybe keep it down with that creepy-ass
voice, kiddo.
... It’s freaking your mom out, is all. Summer too.”
Morty’s mouth hung silently open in a perfect little ‘O’ of confusion as he
slowly nodded his head in half-assed agreement, heart racing neck-and-neck with
his addled mind well after Jerry closed the door behind him and made a hasty
retreat.
He blindly shoved Rick’s dead weight off of him, letting him drop to the floor
and frowning when the sound of brittle bones hitting it proved...
underwhelming, somehow.
His gaze reluctantly dropped to zoom in on the source of the soft thud...
anxiety mounting to hit heights previously unimaginable as it landed upon a
lumpy bundle of nothing more or less incriminating than his own bulky bedspread
entangled with random splashes of sweat drenched blue and yellow, his own hap-
hazardously discarded clothing.
No body. No ‘RICK’, at all.
Just the cum-stained remnants of a nearly forgotten nightmare he wasn’t
entirely certain had ended as a gruff voice echoed ominously in his head.
(... “You reeeeelly don’t know how FUCKED UP you are... DO you, Morty?”)
 
***
 
Beth and Jerry- even Summer- found themselves walking on eggshells whenever
Morty entered whichever room of the house they happened to be occupying at any
given time... which happened less and less over time, the kid becoming more and
more withdrawn.
If they occasionally overheard him engaging himself in yet another seemingly
one-sided argument, voice intermittently dropping an octave or TEN despite the
persistence of his distinctively childish stutter, they left well enough alone.
 
***
 
“Morty is, well... special.” Beth explained in a hushed voice as the state
appointed psychotherapist, back-to her, observed the pitifully distraught
teenage boy through his own slightly cracked office door. “He’s incredibly
FRAGILE right now, and he’s-“
“In good hands.” Dr. Sanchez interrupted with a clipped but reassuring little
nod of understanding as he turned to face a tense Beth and Jerry. “No worries
‘Mom’, ‘Dad’... whatever’s happening to your boy, I’ll get to the BOTTOM of
it.”
He watched the Smiths disappear around the corner at the end of the hall
leading to his office before slipping silently inside and closing that heavy,
noise-cancelling door with an inaudible whoosh and turning on his new patient
with a predatory little smile.
“I w-warned you not to leave me out, Morty.” Rick whispered huskily as he
crossed the room and came to stand behind him, the ghost of a threat breathing
directly into one of the kid’s anxiously reddening ears as he leaned in close
from behind. Deft hands digging roughly into the back of his seat, he spoke
with a cryptic sense of profundity and mused over just how far he could still
get into Morty’s head.
... Into MORTY.
“NEVER leave me out...”
It was the sound of absolutely nothing at all that had Morty visibly trembling
on the edge of his seat as random articles of clothing, seemingly of their own
accord, proceeded to strip themselves of his body piece-by-piece.
“You’re here now because you gotta get our shit together.
Aaaaaaaaaall our SHIT, Morty.
... So it’s TOGETHER.”
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