Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11633247.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty, Pocket_Mortys
  Relationship:
      Telepathic_Morty/Rick_Sanchez_(Pocket_Mortys)
  Character:
      Telepathic_Morty_(Pocket_Mortys), Rick_Sanchez_(Pocket_Mortys)
  Additional Tags:
      Heavy_Petting, Wet_Dream, Suicidal_Thoughts, Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex, Mild
      Hurt/Comfort, Mindfuck, Flashbacks, Canon-Typical_Violence
  Series:
      Part 1 of These_Thoughts_and_The_Strain_I_Am_Under
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-31 Updated: 2018-01-31 Chapters: 7/? Words: 21240
****** Push the Trigger and Pull the Thread ******
by wasted_truth
Summary
     Morty's telepathy and Rick's terrorist past put them in the cross-
     hairs of the Galactic Federation. They go on the run, finding each
     other and danger along the way.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Intentions *****
Morty had his back to the spaceship, attention focused on putting away some of
Rick’s tools. Another successful mission was under their belts; Rick had even
taken him to an intergalactic diner afterwards for a celebratory breakfast.
Morty smiled to himself, remembering how Rick had wolfed down his favorite,
pancakes.
“Morty,” Rick said behind him.
“Yeah, Rick?”
Morty turned around and found Rick towering over him. Rick’s eyes were
unfocused and Morty could smell something unusual wafting off him. It wasn’t
the alcohol that Rick continuously consumed; this smell was medicinal, almost
acrid.
“R-Rick?”
The expression on Rick’s face didn’t change, and Morty began to feel
frightened. He tentatively reached out to touch Rick’s mind, something that he
never did, except for once. There was a twinge in the scar that ran down his
right temple a moment before he was overwhelmed by the swirling vortex of
Rick’s thoughts and emotions. Rick was nearly unhinged, out of control like he
was sleepwalking. Morty could only grasp fragments of shame, determination,
self-hate, and most strongly, lust.
So focused was he on puzzling out Rick’s mental state, he didn’t realize that
Rick had grabbed him by the wrists and yanked him forward. The press of Rick’s
chest to his roused him from his mental trespass. Morty began to stammer his
confusion when Rick’s mouth roughly found his. Morty made a cry against Rick’s
lips, and Rick took the advantage to slip his tongue into Morty’s mouth and
deepen the kiss.
The mental link was still there, and he was flooded with Rick’s mingled relief
and hunger. Morty wasn’t even able to identify his own feelings because what
was coming from Rick was too strong for him to handle. Rick dropped Morty’s
wrists to cup his face in both hands. Morty severed the link in a panic,
getting a stab in the head for his effort, and what had been a torrent in his
mind was now a flood of information from his own body. The movement of Rick’s
tongue against his and the rasping of his stubble on Morty’s upper lip made his
knees weak. It was only a kiss, but it felt like he was being touched
everywhere at once.
Morty reached up and grasped Rick by his lab coat in an instinctive motion to
hang on. Rick broke the kiss with a panting breath a moment before bending down
to suck on the side of Morty’s neck. His hands slid down from Morty’s jaw to
his neck and then over his chest.
Back arching, Morty managed to stammer, “R-R-Rick!”
His voice echoed throughout the garage and he felt Rick freeze. Rick took his
mouth from Morty’s neck and he slowly drew his hands back. His movements were
stiff. Morty looked up at him and saw that the look in Rick’s darkened eyes was
sharp; whatever had possessed him before appeared to be gone.
The saliva dried in Morty’s mouth. He thought Rick was going to speak, but
instead, Rick reached up and pulled Morty’s hands from his coat. He lowered
Morty’s arms before letting go and reaching into the inner pocket of his lab
coat. Rick pulled out his flask and turned away.
“W-Wait –” Morty called after Rick as he walked to the door.
“Not now, Morty.” Rick walked out the door, closing it and leaving Morty alone.
Morty slid to the floor, muscles weak and fluttering. He sat with his back to
the workbench, trying to get ahold of his own thoughts. It felt like the garage
was spinning.
Rick was not his Grandpa Rick. Morty knew that, but he didn’t know if Rick knew
he knew. His Grandpa Rick had gone on an adventure alone, which had been the
norm at the time, since Summer had been fourteen and Morty himself only ten.
Grandpa Rick had never returned. Morty already had his mental abilities, which
were caused by head trauma from an accident he had been in a couple years
before. Not long after Grandpa Rick left, Morty had felt him die. It never
seemed odd to him that he would know about the death; they had been close.
More than a year had passed. Beth and Jerry had written off Grandpa Rick’s
absence as proof that he was a bad father and grandfather. One day, Rick had
arrived in a battered spacecraft that looked like what Grandpa Rick’s would
have if it had been through a war. Rick had behaved as if he belonged there, as
if he was Grandpa Rick, but Morty had known better. There had been too many
differences: the way he spoke, the way he carried himself, even something about
his appearance had been different. He had seemed younger, more roguish, more of
a loner. Morty had always thought his Grandpa Rick was a fiercely independent
person, until the imposter arrived.
The rest of the family had been content to accept Rick, but not Morty. Grandpa
Rick had told him about other dimensions, other Ricks, and the Council of
Ricks. What if this Rick were a spy – or worse? The fear had kept him up at
night. He had waited until Rick was drunk one night and passed out in his room.
Morty had used his psychic ability to probe Rick’s mind. While he didn’t get a
complete picture, he had been able to figure out that this Rick was on the run
from the Galactic Federation and was taking Grandpa Rick’s identity as a cover.
He had no ill-will toward Morty or his family. After that, Morty had accepted
him, but as his own person, not a replacement.
Morty forced himself to wobble to his feet. He made his way into the house and
up the stairs, but Rick’s door was firmly shut. Morty paused, hoping to hear
something, but was disappointed. He continued down the hall to his own room.
                                      ***
A hot dullness in his abdomen woke Morty up. He groaned, his hand reflexively
sliding down to his cock. The fragments of the last dream clung to him, and he
could feel long fingers brushing him all over, like the touch of a ghost. He
squeezed himself, mumbling incoherently into the pillow. As he began to stroke,
he breathed Rick’s name.
Morty heard motion and his eyes opened.
Rick was standing in the shadows by the door, watching him. He was only in his
white tank top and dark brown pants. The moonlight from the window caught the
definition of his wiry arms and angular face. When their eyes met, Rick strode
forward and climbed on to the bed. He straddled Morty, and before Morty could
react, Rick pulled the sheet down, exposing him.
Morty started to grab for the sheet to hide himself again, ashamed, when Rick
leaned forward and brushed his lips across Morty’s. That barest graze sent
lightning to Morty’s pelvis. He felt Rick’s hand pulling at his, and then his
dick was in Rick’s grasp. Morty gripped the sheets, trying not to buck his hips
at the feel.
A soft kiss came with an equally soft stroke. There was no desperation in
Rick’s ministrations, like there had been in the garage. Rick slowly built the
intensity as Morty’s breath quickened and he whimpered a string of incoherent
pleas and curses that were mingled with Rick’s name. As Morty grew close, Rick
kissed him particularly deeply, then suddenly broke away.
Morty felt Rick’s breath tickling his ear. “I finally found my Morty.”
Rick’s voice was a caress and it blew the dream apart.
Morty woke up with a jerk and immediately felt stickiness on his stomach and
soaking his boxers. He was covered in sweat and out of breath.
“Ah, man,” he groaned, flopping back on the pillow. He looked around the room
and saw he was alone. Morty thought about cleaning up, but couldn’t bring
himself to move out of the bed. He felt like he had just cum enough to match a
month of jacking off.
“Unbelievable.”
This…this put any of his stupid, juvenile fantasies about Jessica to shame.
Those daydreams, and wet dreams, were always soft-focus, romantic. They never
seemed real, and even as a horny fourteen-year-old, Morty’s Jessica fantasies
were not really that explicit. This was different. This had felt real – and
only spurned on by some kissing in the garage? Of course Rick was experienced
–  Morty blushed unknowingly – but was that all it took to turn him inside out?
Morty’s alarm clock read 3:26 AM. He needed some answers. Maybe he was just
horny, and earlier Rick had just been drunk, or high, or whatever Rick did. He
had smelled that weirdness on Rick. Still, Morty was ready to write this off to
his own hormones, but he wanted to be sure.
After very quietly cleaning himself up in the bathroom, Morty knelt in front of
Rick’s bedroom door. Rick was certainly asleep or passed out by now. Morty
massaged his temple. He shouldn’t intrude on Rick like this, but he just wanted
to know.
Morty’s mind reached across the intervening space to Rick’s mind. As soon as he
touched Rick, he could tell that Rick was passed out, not sleeping. There were
no dreams, only a thick, thorny darkness. Morty looked around with his senses.
There was more. Rick’s mind wasn’t the tornado it had been in the garage. His
feelings were more solid and easier for Morty to read.
He nearly broke the link at what he saw. Rick was falling apart inside: grief,
shame, guilt, and a terrible loneliness and pain. If Morty hadn’t been on his
knees in the hallway, he would have gone down on them. He almost withdrew from
Rick’s mind, but then pressed forward. He wanted to know what Rick remembered
from the garage.
It was easy enough to find the memories, because Rick must have been reliving
them before he passed out. The memories started in the ship, when they arrived
at home. Morty was talking – it was weird watching himself – but Rick didn’t
pay too much attention to the words. Instead there was a huge internal dialogue
that was tangled up with the way Morty smelled and the sound of his laughing.
There was too much going on, and Morty didn’t have enough skill to sort it out,
but he did get the same sense of desire and self-punishment that he had felt
before. In the background, there was the faint sound of a klaxon alarm,
repeating over and over. Rick closed his eyes and Morty saw flickers of red for
a moment. Then he watched himself get out of the ship, leaving Rick alone. Rick
reached under the seat and pulled out a bottle of glowing stuff that could have
been antifreeze by the way it looked. Rick’s emotion changed to grim
determination.
“Do it, you pussy.”
Morty couldn’t tell what was in the bottle, because Rick didn’t question its
contents. He considered trying to probe deeper, but then Rick’s fingers were
spinning off the top. Rick started to bring the bottle up to his mouth, but his
fingers slipped on the glass and the bottle hit the floor.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Rick hissed, grabbing for it. When he picked it up, more than
half the bottle was gone. “Motherfucker!”
Determined to accomplish whatever he was trying to do, Rick chugged what
remained in the bottle and tossed it aside. Morty immediately felt not the
flush of drugs, but the stomach cramping effect of poison. Alarm thrilled
through him as Rick grunted and doubled up.
“Oh fuck. This should do it.” Rick took in a shuddering breath. “I feel weird.”
Understanding dawned on Morty. Instead of knocking Rick unconscious, the lower
dose of poison altered his consciousness and left Rick without control. The
poison was responsible for the smell and the strange look in Rick’s eyes.  
The link snapped at Morty’s wish; he didn’t need to see the rest. Morty pushed
through the instant headache, grabbed Rick’s doorknob and twisted, hoping it
was unlocked. It was. He burst into the room.
Rick was sprawled on his back, his arm hanging off the edge of the bed. An
empty whiskey bottle lay near his outstretched hand and he had stripped down to
just his underwear. Morty grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him hard.
“Rick! Wake up!”
Rick stirred and mumbled something, never opening his eyes.
“R-Rick!”
“Don’ fuck with me…always with the bullshit…fuck off.” Rick tried to roll to
face the wall.
“Come on, Rick!” Morty shook him harder.
“Goddammit!” Rick seemed to come around and grabbed Morty by the wrists. “No
more, GF pigs!”
His fingers were digging painfully into Morty’s skin. “Rick, you’re not in jail
anymore! It’s me, it’s Morty.”
That seemed to finally break through to him. “M-Morty?” Rick looked at his
hands, which were clamped in a vise grip. “I’m sorry.” He let go, and shame
spread across his face. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
“I’m okay.” Morty restrained the urge to rub the reddened flesh. He watched
Rick sit up and run his hands through his grey hair. Morty still felt afraid,
but at least Rick was awake and not lost to some combination of alcohol and
whatever poison he had taken.
“Morty, I –”
The boy took a deep breath and blurted, “You’re not my grandfather.”
Shocked, Rick looked over at him. “What?”
“You’re not my grandfather. He died. You are…” Morty frowned, trying hard to
remember what he had learned when Rick arrived. “You are Rick of D-Dimension H-
923. You replaced my grandfather after he died.”
“How did…how…why are you telling me this?”
“Because you need to know.”
“How do you know?”
Morty pointed to the scar on his temple, tilting his head so Rick could see. “I
h-have telepathy. After you arrived, I read your mind.”
Rick lowered his voice. “You have telepathy. Did you tell anyone?”
“My grandfather knew,” Morty said simply. “But he was afraid I would be a
target if people knew. If Ricks knew.”
“He was a smart Rick. Is that why you never told me?”
“I don’t know why I didn’t t-tell you. I think I thought you would leave.”
Morty hung his head. “And I didn’t want to scare you. I never read your th-
thoughts, except when you first showed up…and today.” Rick looked away, clearly
agitated. “W-Why did you take the poison, Rick?”
Rick closed his eyes and was silent a long time. Morty almost spoke when Rick
finally said, “For many reasons I hope you will never understand.”
Something in Rick broke with an almost audible sound. Suddenly, he looked
exposed, a look Morty had never seen.
Morty stood, letting the feelings that echoed off Rick guide him. He didn’t
even need to actively use his powers with Rick’s guard this low. He’d never
experienced this before; people always were closed to him unless he exerted
himself. He sat on the edge of the cot and put his hand on Rick’s arm. “B-But I
do understand. You’re alone and everything hurts. You were hurt. And you…want
something you think you can’t h-have.” He finished the last in a rush.
“Because I can’t have it. I shouldn’t have done those things to you, Morty. It
was wrong. You’re a kid and I’m…a sick old man.”
“No.” Morty ran his hand up Rick’s arm to his bare shoulder, trying to soothe
him. “Is that how you really felt then?”
“Heh.” Rick’s chest hitched, and Morty let his hand move up more and brush
through Rick’s hair. He could feel Rick emotionally crying out at that touch,
despite the sarcastic tone of Rick’s voice. “You want to know what it was like
for me to touch you? Sounds gross.”
Morty bit his lip at that and took a risk with Rick’s fragile state. He swung
himself up and onto Rick’s lap.
Rick’s blue eyes widened. “Morty.” He gripped Morty by the shoulders and seemed
to struggle with pulling him closer or shoving him away. “I can’t do this to
you.”
“It’s okay, Rick.” Morty lowered his head and rested his chin on Rick’s
shoulder.
He felt a shudder pass through Rick’s frame and then he was engulfed in an
embrace, Rick’s arms sliding around his back. Crushed against Rick’s chest,
Morty felt him bury his face in the crook of his neck. Rick’s breath was hot,
and Morty unconsciously squirmed in his lap. The reaction he felt from Rick’s
sex brought a gasp from Morty’s lips.
Rick’s arms dropped and suddenly both his hands were splayed across the small
of Morty’s back, pressing and moving up, rucking up Morty’s shirt. Morty
gripped Rick’s hair again and was rewarded with a grunt and slight pitch in
Rick’s hips.
“R-Ri-” Morty started, but the name broke down into a whimper as Rick’s lips
pressed against his throat. It was slow this time, not fevered like before.
Morty felt heat spreading out from the kiss, and then the delirious pressure of
Rick’s tongue on his skin, tasting him. “A-Ah!”
Another shiver passed through Rick, and then a third, and suddenly Morty sensed
something was wrong. At almost the same moment, Rick pulled back.
“Fuck – Morty –” Rick pointed to the waste basket at the end of the cot. Morty
reacted quickly, grabbing it and thrusting it into Rick’s hands a moment before
Rick heaved violently. Immediately, Morty’s nose was accosted with a mixture of
whiskey and poison.
Rick dragged his hand across his lips and dropped the basket to the floor with
a grimace. “Fuck me. Timing.” Morty saw him sag, exhaustion plain on his face.
“Rick, lie down. I-I’ll clean this up. Okay?”
Rick nodded and stretched out on his back without protest, surprising Morty. He
could see tremors moving through Rick’s arms. Had he just fought off the toxins
for Morty as long as he could?
When Morty returned to the room after cleaning up, Rick was staring at the
ceiling. “Sorry, kid.”
Dropping the basket in its usual place, Morty came to his side. “D-Don’t. Don’t
be sorry.” He took a deep breath and blurted out, “Scoot over.”
Rick’s eyes shifted to his. “It’s a cot, Morty.”
“I-I know.” Morty didn’t want to lose his nerve. He knew he was out of his
element. “Scoot.”
Rick relented, shifting his slim hips as close to the wall as he could. Morty
climbed onto the bed and stretched his body down the length of Rick’s, letting
his head rest on Rick’s chest. Listening to the fluttering of Rick’s heart, he
felt Rick’s arms snake around him, pulling him in tighter.
***** Falling Into Place *****
Chapter Summary
     "I always wanted to shoot that motherfucker."
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Rick let his fingers slowly stroke through Morty’s mousy hair, careful not to
wake him. Rick himself was bone-tired and sick, but he couldn’t sleep. Twisting
a piece of Morty’s hair around his finger, he wondered how the fuck this all
could have happened.
At least he knows I’m not his grandfather, Rick thought darkly, so it’s not
really incest. Just a grown man seducing a kid.
He worried that was what he was doing: projecting his desires onto a teenager
with no experience and no defenses. How was Morty supposed to defend himself
against someone who used to fuck and fight his way across the galaxy?
How am I supposed to defend myself from him? The thought rose up, but Rick
shoved it away angrily.
Rick had no Morty in his home dimension, and no Beth, Summer, or Jerry for that
matter. He had never settled down, living the life of a mercenary, then
resistance fighter, from his late teens. The portal gun had been the key; once
he invented his own, the battles of his life began - until he and several
friends were caught by the Galactic Federation. There was a laundry list of
charges, some of them trumped up GF bullshit, but most of them real. Still, the
GF really had little idea of all the things Rick had done, which might have
saved his life in the first place.  
When he escaped prison, he left everything behind, including his friends. The
penalty for escape was a death warrant, and he knew his friends would face
punishment and danger if they knew anything about him. He found a dimension
where a version of himself had recently died – the perfect cover. That Rick had
a family, and after doing as much reconnaissance as he could, Rick showed up
and took his place. No one suspected, he had thought at the time.
Except Morty had.
Almost in response, Morty muttered in his sleep. Rick freed his hand from
Morty’s hair and carefully ran a finger over the scar that held Morty’s secret.
He didn’t know what Morty’s grandfather had told him, but he bet it was a
whitewashed, kid-safe version of the truth. A Morty with his powers, if they
were what Rick thought they could be, would be a slave at best and dead at
worst. Rick had avoided Rick-society for most of his life, but he knew Mortys
were subservient to their Ricks. A Morty with this kind of power could elevate
his Rick, and would be fought over if his secret was discovered. Morty was not
safe.
Not safe.
Rick shifted and instinctively pulled Morty closer. He needed a plan, because
things had changed. He didn’t know how much risk there was for Morty’s secret
coming out, but it had to exist. There were both Ricks and GF agents who
focused solely on the study of the mind. If Morty ever crossed one of them, who
knows what they could detect? Rick exhaled roughly. They’d been playing Russian
roulette this whole time and he hadn’t known.
There was a light rap at his door. “Dad? Breakfast in twenty minutes.”
I would have fucked your son if I could have! Rick thought at Beth with a hard
brightness.
He cleared his throat. “Thanks, sweetie.” Her footfalls disappeared down the
hall.
“Morty.” Rick gave him a little shake. “Come on, time to get up.”
Morty stirred and raised himself up a bit. His hair was mussed and tumbling
over his forehead, in part due to Rick’s exploring fingers. “W-What time is
it?” he mumbled, rubbing an eye sleepily.
Seeing Morty look so disheveled made Rick’s mouth go dry. This was an image he
had fantasized about on more than one lonely night. His body reacted before his
brain could engage. Rick grabbed Morty by the collar of his yellow shirt and
hauled him forward until their mouths touched. The silkiness of Morty’s lips
twisted Rick’s gut as he pressed in for the kiss. Rick moaned at the rush of
heat and feelings he didn’t bother considering, and he felt Morty start and
then relax. Rick took one hand away from Morty’s shirt to reach up and grip his
chin, taking the kiss deeper.
And what are you going to do when Beth comes looking for him, asshole? Rick
heard his own thought and tried to shake it off. Stop while you can, you dip-
ass!
Reality hit him like cold water. Getting caught would only cause problems they
didn’t need. Rick reluctantly broke the kiss and took a few deep breaths.
“R-Rick?” Morty stammered in a way that Rick would only describe as adorable.
“Are you – did I –?”
 Rick slid his hand down the boy’s cheek and touched Morty’s lips with his
thumb. “Your family is shit, Morty.” He brushed Morty’s hair from his brow.
“You’d better get to your room and get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Rick didn’t watch him go; he knew his self-control was already too badly
frayed. Once the door was closed, he crossed over to his battered dresser. He
started to pull out the outfit that he had come to think of as his Rick
uniform. He set the pale blue long-sleeved shirt on top of the dresser and
stopped.
Why am I doing this? This is not important. Priorities have changed.Rick
slammed his hand onto the dresser top. At least I should be myself. Fuck it.
He knelt down to the lowest drawer and rummaged around for clothes that had
lain hidden and neglected for three years. He slid off the white briefs he was
wearing and kicked them aside. From the drawer, he grabbed a pair of black
pants littered with pockets and other useful hooks and loops. He tugged them on
over his bare ass and the fit was snug and reassuringly familiar.
Rick grinned, relaxing into his own skin. “That’s the fucking ticket.”
                                      ***
“G-Grandpa?!”
Morty jerked his head up at Summer’s outburst, and his mouth fell open. Rick
stood in the doorway…only this was Rick. Morty hadn’t realized how much Rick
had camouflaged himself until now. Not knowing he was drinking Rick in, Morty
saw everything: the tight black pants, a black tank top that bared a knife scar
on Rick’s shoulder, black boots that laced up to his knees. Even his grey hair
was brushed back and some fell over to the side, instead of the ruffled, spiky
mess of someone who didn’t care about their appearance. 
A hot blush crept into Morty’s cheeks and he was very grateful that the dining
table was hiding the bulge in his jeans. His breath caught in his throat when
he realized Rick was watching him intently.
“Dad?” Beth set down her fork and was staring at Rick with huge eyes.
“Wow, Rick, the eighties called and they want their goth movement back.”
Rick swiveled his head in Jerry’s direction. His voice was flat as he spoke
with contempt, “Shut the fuck up, Jerry.”
Jerry’s mouth worked, unable to respond to the verbal slap.
“Dad, you don’t look like yourself,” Beth said, surprise evident in her voice.
“What’s going on?”
Rick took his usual seat at the table. “Morty and I have a special mission.”
Jerry tittered. “A special mission? Are you taking him to a rave?”
“Yes, Jerry,” Rick snapped. “I’m going to get him high on ecstasy too.” Rick
shifted in his chair so that he could fully face Jerry. “You really are
retarded. How – no, why Beth stays married to you is a fucking mystery to
everyone at this table.”
Jerry paled and looked away, worrying the collar of his green shirt. Rick was
staring at Jerry, his expression hard.
“Dad –”
“C-Come o-on, Rick,” Morty managed finally. Somehow, he was sensing pent-up
anger rolling off Rick, but his anger felt strange. “D-Don’t be like that.”
“Yeah, Grandpa,” Summer chimed in, before returning to playing with her phone.
She had pushed her half-eaten breakfast away and was probably texting the
boyfriend of the week.  
“Let me get you some breakfast, Dad.” Beth stood up and started for the
kitchen.
Rick looked around the table slowly, then shook his head. “Just some coffee,
thanks.”   
Morty breathed a sigh of relief and sagged in his chair. Beth returned with a
cup of coffee and set it in front of Rick, who wrapped his long fingers around
it. Morty watched him inhale the steam, just before his father’s voice broke
through.
“You know, Morty, it’s a good thing it’s summer. We can’t have you running off
with your grandpa during the school week, fighting cosmic lions or whatever it
is you do.”
Grandpa. Morty’s mind flickered to the burning feel of Rick’s mouth on his not
even a half-hour ago, and the word made his stomach turn. This was not his
grandfather, were they all blind?
Rick sipped his coffee and set the cup aside. “Won’t be a problem.”
“Oh? And why is that?” Jerry was suspicious.
“Morty needs things other than daily adventures in his life. I see that now.”
Rick was answering Jerry, but looking Morty square in the eyes. Morty
swallowed, uncertain of what that meant. Panic started to build. Was Rick going
to leave? Is that why he looked like he did?
“Well, good. I’m glad you came to that conclusion, Rick.”
Morty broke his own rule to stop the rising tide of panic. He touched Rick’s
mind again – and again, it was a swirl that threatened to pull Morty under.
Fortunately, Rick was in control of himself this time. Morty brushed the
surface of Rick’s thoughts and was bombarded. Pushing aside ones he had sensed
before, he focused on the others: anger, arrogance, a grim resoluteness,
and…fear? Of Morty? No, for Morty. He pressed the source of fear and got an
image of Rick touching his scar, followed by a flood of protectiveness and the
sensation of Rick’s genius brain at work.
Drawing back, Morty took a shuddering breath as he broke the connection. Rick
wasn’t leaving him, he was at least certain of that. His temple throbbed
sharply and he massaged it without thinking.
Rick saw the motion and nodded very slightly at him. He picked up his coffee
cup and drained it. Belching uncouthly, he stood.
“Morty, I’m going to load the ship. Finish your breakfast; we’ll go when you’re
done.” He walked to the garage door without another word.
“Jeez, what’s gotten into him?” Jerry asked no one in particular.
Beth rolled her eyes at him. “God, Jerry, can’t you just shut up?”
Out in the garage, Rick worked fast. He loaded everything he thought they might
need in the hatch, extra fuel, equipment, tools. When he ran out of room there,
he started packing the backseats. When the workspace was cleared out, he
thumbed a button underneath the bench. A large section of the wall slid aside,
revealing a cache of guns and rifles. Some he tucked into the loops of his
pants, the rest went behind the front seats. He was just fitting his portal gun
against his leg when the garage door opened.
“R-Rick? What’s going on?” Morty was clearly shaken.
“Come here. Shut the door.” 
Morty did as he was told, and Rick brushed a thumb against a special button on
the portal gun. There was the faint tickle of electricity and he started to
count backwards in his head. Rick grasped Morty by the shoulders and knelt in
front of him.
“I don’t have too much time to explain,” Rick kept his voice pitched low. “You
are in danger, and so am I.”
“Because I –”
“Shh. Yes, although I’m in danger for lots of other reasons.” Morty expected
him to look serious, but Rick grinned at that. “Something is very wrong, I can
feel it. We’re leaving, right now.”
“Leaving – what?”
Shit! Time! “Do you trust me?” Rick rushed the words, then blurted, “Oh fuck,
kid, just look.” He grabbed Morty’s hand and placed it against the side of his
head.
Morty was taken aback by the demand, but he saw urgency in Rick’s eyes. He made
the bridge and Rick’s thoughts nearly yanked him off his feet.
He saw breakfast from Rick’s eyes. The scene moved fast, but Morty realized
immediately that what was passing between him and Rick was not subtle. Morty
watched himself reacting to Rick – again, quite obviously – and no one at the
table noticed. It was like they were playing roles of themselves.
He could sense Rick’s understanding growing within the memory.
“Just some coffee, thanks.”
“Rick of Dimension H-923, do you know why you have been called before this
tribunal?”
“Let me guess, I parked in a space for Galactic Federation douchebags.”
Morty shook his head at the intruding memory, but it only grew stronger.
Clearly, Rick was associating the two. He could see Rick standing with glowing
red bands circling his ankles, wrists, and throat, smirking with narrowed eyes.
Wait – how can I seehim–
“Morty!” Rick shook him. “Come on!”
Morty’s eyes snapped open and when the connection shattered, the stab in his
head was so intense that he cried out. He tumbled forward, and Rick caught him.
Rick held him tight, feeling his own heart pounding rapidly against his ribs.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “Morty, are you okay?”
“My head, Rick,” Morty muttered into Rick’s tank top.
Rick cringed. “Shouldn’t have made you do that, but we’ve got to run.” He
shifted Morty around and got his arm under the boy’s knees. “Here we go,” he
said and staggered to his feet, carrying Morty’s surprisingly light body
against his chest. Just as he took his first step, he felt the shield from the
portal gun drop. He bolted the few steps to the ship and got Morty inside as
the door to the house opened.
“Oh, Rick.” Jerry’s voice rang out.
Rick whirled around and saw Jerry walk into the garage. When Jerry turned to
him, the pupils of his eyes glowed a distinctive red that Rick had never
forgotten.
Without hesitation, Rick pulled a laser pistol from his thigh and shot “Jerry”
in the chest. The robot crumpled and Rick sprinted to the driver’s seat. He
jumped in, slamming the door and hitting the accelerator as hard as he could.
The ship lurched through the garage door, blowing it to pieces, and Rick took
the ship up as high and fast as he could.
As he broke atmosphere, he was breathing slower and checking his instruments.
Nothing. He flipped open a control pad and typed in some coordinates.
“I always wanted to shoot that motherfucker,” he grumbled.
Chapter End Notes
     It's a little early, but I'm swamped this week, so there you go. I
     hope you enjoy the read! Thank you for feedback!
***** Going Under *****
Chapter Summary
     “Take what you really want, R-Rick.”
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Now that the ship was on autopilot, Rick exhaled and eased his seat as far back
as he could. He looked over at Morty, who was still curled up on the battered
seat beside him. The boy appeared to be asleep, with his eyes closed and his
yellow shirt rucked halfway up his chest. Rick reached out and stroked his
hair.
“Hey. Morty.” Rick kept his voice soft. “You okay?”
Morty stirred, then leaned into Rick’s touch. “Y-Yeah…my head’s better.”
Rick continued to run his fingers through Morty’s hair, kicking himself for not
having seen all this shit sooner. He had gotten complacent. How long had the
fucking GF been hanging out in the house? Surely longer than today.
They must know about him, Rick thought. If it had been about me, they would
have just sent an assassin. But why keep us both alive? They could have poked
holes in my disguise, easy. Were they thrown because I was with a Morty? Would
that matter?Rick’s brow furrowed in frustration.
“Where’s your Morty?” The question was barely above a whisper.
Rick jerked back, the question too close to his thoughts. “What?”
“I…I heard you. Just now. What happened to your Morty?”
Taking Morty by the shoulders, Rick struggled to get him to sit up. Finally,
Morty was up and facing him, his features drawn and pale. “You can still hear
me?”
“K-Kind of…it’s like an echo.”
“Is that normal?”
Morty started to shake his head and then shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never
really done this much…esp-especially not to one person.”
Rick didn’t know what to say. He knew nothing about Morty’s powers. Instead, he
answered the original question. “I never had children or a wife. I was on the
run my whole life, just me and some friends I made over the years.” He caressed
under Morty’s chin and the boy’s eyes fluttered closed. “You’re the only Morty
I’ve known.”
“Rick.” Morty sighed and his voice was weak. “I’m tired.”
“So sleep.”
“Can I…I mean, w-would you…” He was visibly struggling with the words.
“What do you want, Morty?”
“Like this morning. Will you h-hold me while I sleep?”
Rick swallowed with difficulty at the naked request. He slid on his seat,
pulling Morty with him, and rested his back against the door. Morty climbed
onto his lap and sprawled, cheek pressed to his chest. Rick felt Morty’s arms
wrap around his waist. He drew Morty in closer and brought up a hand to stroke
the back of Morty’s neck until he heard the boy’s breathing shift into sleep.
Rick was aching with this closeness, but also suffering from no real rest as
well. He managed to calm himself into a brief sleep.
Too soon, he was stirring awake at the feel of fingers pressing into his lower
back. He murmured a little, and the hands slipped around his sides and below
the waistband of his pants.
His eyes opened at that and he grabbed Morty by his wrists. Morty was
straddling him, looking down at his own hands, and Rick saw that his normally
hazel eyes were dark. Morty had gone straight for one of his most sensitive
spots. First the hair pulling, now this. Rick didn’t want to seduce him without
knowing what the kid really wanted, but…shit.
“Morty,” Rick tried to control his voice, but it still came out rough. “Keep
doing that and I’m not going to stop at kissing you.”
“I know.” Morty looked up. He appeared fragile and determined, innocent and
debauched, all at once.
Summoning all the reserves he had left, Rick reluctantly pried Morty’s hands
away from his pants. Vaguely, he wondered how he was doing this at all. His
voice was still coarse as he managed, “I can make you feel good, but the last
thing I want is for you to regret it. Understand me?”
“D-Do you know what I dreamed about before I came to your room?” When Rick
didn’t answer, Morty went on. “That you were on me in bed and you j-jerked me
off – and –” Morty couldn’t bring himself to tell Rick what dream-Rick had
said, “– and I c-came so hard.”
That’s – I – fuck it!
“Then you’re going to again,” Rick growled. He yanked Morty the rest of the way
forward, claiming his mouth and pinioning his hands to the driver’s seat.
Rick’s kissed cruelly at first, but he found some restraint and slowed down. He
let Morty pull in a breath before sliding his tongue in. Letting go of Morty’s
hands, he slid his fingers under the boy’s ass and squeezed. Morty broke their
kiss to tilt his head back and moan. Now Rick had full access to his throat,
and Morty closed his eyes with a gasp at the light nip of teeth and the
pressure of Rick’s tongue dragging up, clearly tasting his skin. The sound of
Morty mewling drove Rick on, sucking, biting.
“Ah-h! Fuck, Rick!”
Rick shuddered at hearing Morty yelp a rare profanity. Grabbing Morty’s hips to
hold him still, he puffed a breath into Morty’s ear before curling his tongue
around the shell. Like he’d hoped, Morty’s hips bucked under his hands and the
boy’s voice cracked. Suddenly Morty was gripping the back of Rick’s neck,
trying to push him closer.
Think I found a spot, Rick thought hazily.
Rick redoubled his efforts, teasing out noises. Morty went for his hair again,
giving the back sharp tugs.
“God,” Rick groaned directly into Morty’s ear and he felt the boy shake all
over. “Fucking Jesus.” The words continued their tumble out.
Morty tightened his grip and pulled Rick back hard by the hair. He barely had a
second to register the pleasure on Rick’s face, because he was crushing his
mouth to Rick’s.
This was better, so much better, than his dream.
Rick dove into the kiss, shifting Morty with one arm and cupping the back of
his head with the other. He wasn’t close enough, not nearly close enough. Rick
squeezed the back of Morty’s neck gently and dropped his hands to the edge of
Morty’s shirt. He started to push the shirt up, letting his hands graze Morty’s
sides as he did. He felt Morty tense and Rick paused mid-kiss to look him in
the eye.
“Okay, baby?” Rick was quiet.
Morty flushed at the term and nodded hesitantly. Rick kissed his cheek and
pulled the shirt off, tossing it aside. Morty watched Rick look him over, and
then he ran his hands slowly down Morty’s chest. When he got to the top of
Morty’s jeans, Rick took the palm of his hand and caressed Morty’s flat
stomach. Those muscles jumped, and Rick kissed him again. Rick scraped his
blunt fingernails up Morty’s back.
“W-Wait.” Morty was breathless.
Rick stopped immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I,” Morty couldn’t form the words, so he grasped Rick’s shirt and tugged up.
“Oh.” Rick leaned back. The grin he gave Morty the moment before he pulled the
tank top off and threw it was devilish. “Better?”
Morty didn’t answer, just fell forward and pressed his cheek to the bare skin.
He smelled sweat on Rick’s skin and something musky underneath that was his
scent. Morty brushed his open mouth against the scattering of silver chest
hair.
Rick could not deny the urgency that was building in his hard-on as Morty’s
lips touched his skin. Too fast, too fast, his thoughts whined. The pace was
set though and it was carrying him forward.
He reached down into Morty’s lap and rubbed him through his jeans. Morty thrust
into his hand and let out a strangled cry. Rick allowed himself a moment to
marvel at the boy’s responsiveness. Quickly, he undid the button on Morty’s
jeans and started to slide the zipper down.
“R-Rick!”
“Shh.” He slipped his fingers into Morty’s underwear. “Up.”
Morty seemed to understand and raised himself up on his knees. Rick pushed the
jeans and underwear down in one movement, then stopped to take in what was in
front of him. Morty’s pale skin was flushed and his erection bobbed and looked
painful. Rick didn’t think and just acted.
Rick’s name ripped from Morty’s throat as his cock was suddenly swallowed. It
was hot and wet and…Morty’s head fell back as Rick’s tongue danced down the
shaft, across the tip. Every flick and pull shoved him to the edge, and he
listened to Rick’s quiet moans the whole time. Morty was too inexperienced and
overcome to hold himself still, so he grabbed into Rick’s hair to steady
himself. Rick’s tongue made that impossible though and his hips continued to
rock forward.
“Ah-h…jeez…Rick, I’m gonna –”
He couldn’t finish as he was rewarded by being deep-throated. Morty wailed as
the orgasm tore through him as a wave that kept rolling and rolling as Rick
continued to suck it out of him. Finally, it passed, leaving a cramp in his
abdomen and his whole body weak. He started to slump forward, but then Rick’s
hands were pushing him up by the shoulders. Morty felt Rick’s mouth, his tongue
pressing in so that Morty could taste the thick saltiness that was his own
fluids. Twining his arms around Rick’s neck, Morty realized he was somehow
still hungry for Rick.
Rick broke away to murmur in his ear, “So good, you’re so good, Morty.” His
lips pressed in a kiss, and Morty’s flesh erupted in goosebumps.
Slumping back against the window, Rick ran his hand over his mouth. He had had
stab wounds that felt less sharp than what was going on in his pants. He knew
he had to take care of it or just the friction of cloth on his skin was going
to send him over. He slid his hand down his stomach, through the tangle of
silver hairs, and grasped himself firmly. He started to stroke when he felt a
smaller hand close over his. His head shot up, and Morty was leaning over him,
almost nose to nose.
“Take what you really want, R-Rick.”
Rick reddened and tilted away. Even those words conjured up images. “You don’t
know what you’re asking, kid,” he managed finally, as Morty’s hand squeezed.
“Yes, I d-do. I w-want you to. I want you to.” Morty finished more firmly.
All of Rick’s resistance fell away. He caught Morty’s face in his hands and
gave him a hard, lingering kiss.
Huffing out a breath, he managed to say “strip” against Morty’s lips. Morty
pulled back and climbed off Rick’s lap to comply. Rick slid his hand into a
pocket between the seat and the door and pulled out a bottle that was already
warm to the touch. He freed it and tossed it beside him. It was Daphnean
lubricant, a gift from a “friend.” Lube with healing properties built in, Rick
had to admit it was next level shit.
Always prepared, Rick, he thought wryly. He looked up and saw Morty was already
bare-assed, kicking off the last of his clothes. Hunger knotted in him, and he
realized he had no time to deal with his boots or any of that crap. He settled
for pushing his pants all the way to his knees. He couldn’t help but wonder why
in the name of science he was wearing so many damn guns right now, because all
of them were in the way. He grabbed the lube bottle, poured some in his hands,
and slicked himself with one efficient stroke. Another pour, and his palms and
fingers were slick as well.
Morty looked over his shoulder at him, and Rick grabbed him by the bicep. “Come
here.”
The boy sniffed as he climbed on to him. “W-What’s that smell?”
Ignoring the question, Rick kissed and repositioned Morty, pelvis to pelvis,
and leaving slippery spots on Morty’s fair skin. He guided his cock under Morty
and shuddered all over at the feel of being between Morty’s thighs. He took
Morty’s awakening sex in his left hand and leaned over to bite into Morty’s
shoulder.
Morty tried to take in all the new sensations: Rick stroking him, biting him,
and the feel of Rick’s erection rubbing between his legs and nudging at his
asshole. That puckered place felt tender and hungry. Rick’s thumb made a deft
circle across the tip of Morty’s hard-on and Morty moaned, becoming completely
aroused in the older man’s hand. The lube provided Rick no resistance. His free
hand cupped Morty’s backside for a moment, and then Morty lost his breath as
Rick’s silky fingers massaged that tight opening.
Morty’s breath hitched and he couldn’t make a sound as Rick purred in his ear,
“Relax. For me. Please, beautiful.” The massaging didn’t stop, and neither did
the sliding up and down his shaft. He pressed his temple to Rick’s and made the
choice to truly give himself over, tension melting from him. As he felt the
last of it drain out, Rick’s finger slipped up and in. The lubricant did its
job and Rick buried his middle finger all the way in until Morty felt a brush
inside that sent a shot of heat to the base of his already aching sex. An
undulating cry burst from him once, twice, as Rick set a rhythm. His hips were
trying to respond, but Rick had made the rhythm between his hands dissonant,
keeping Morty’s climax close but unreachable.
A string of groans escaped Morty, who was reduced to incoherence as Rick slid
in a second finger, then a third, stretching him. Morty dug into Rick’s
shoulder blades, and Rick moaned “– can’t –” and he drove his fingers up one
more time before pulling them out.
“W-Wh–” Morty started, but before he could get the word out, Rick had grabbed
him by the hips, shifted, and impaled Morty on his cock.
Morty couldn’t hear his own screech over the sound of Rick crying out, “Fuck –
God!” Rick crushed Morty to his chest and continued, “Jesus, so fucking tight
–” He interrupted himself by kissing Morty.
The only way Morty could think about this feeling was that he was being
consumed. He had never known it could be like this, never known he could be so
close to Rick. Rick’s hips rocked, and pleasure wracked Morty’s frame, deeply
penetrated but somehow not hurting, and he felt something else – the squeeze of
his own tightness around Rick’s erection. Morty started in surprise, also
realizing that some of the delirium he felt was pouring off Rick, not him.
Morty wasn’t even trying to link to Rick’s mind; he had lost the focus to do
so. He tried to let go of Rick’s mind, but with no intended link, he found he
didn’t know how.
Rick knew he couldn’t draw this out much longer. He started stroking Morty
again, keeping it off-beat with his own thrusts. Everything coming from Morty
was driving him insane, the noises, the smell of his skin and hair, the way he
fit just so on Rick’s sex. His orgasm was rapidly approaching, so Rick brought
the rhythms together for Morty and was rewarded with the boy’s fierce climax,
cum spurting onto Rick’s hand and stomach as Morty howled his name again.
The sound of his own name in Morty’s undone voice ripped Rick’s own orgasm from
him. He made a stuttering “Ah-h-h-h!” as pleasure convulsed him and his fluids
began to run down Morty’s insides.
Residual waves continued to hit Rick as he held Morty tight and buried his face
in his chestnut hair. They both shook. Rick brought his breathing under
control, counting each breath until he could relax his grip a bit. There was a
burning in his chest that he hadn’t felt before but he assumed was from the
release of so much pent-up hunger and lust. Carefully, he lifted Morty and
pulled out of him. He scooped Morty up, leaning back against the ship door and
cradling the naked boy to his chest.
Kissing the top of Morty’s head, he murmured, “Thank you.” His hands brushed
lightly over the bare skin of Morty’s back and neck, unable to stop touching.
God, Rick, who seduced who? he wondered, closing his eyes.
He felt Morty run a hand up his arm, going for his neck, Rick assumed, but when
Morty touched his shoulder, the boy jerked his hand back and hissed like he’d
been burned.
Rick’s eyes flicked open. “What? What is it?” Morty’s eyes were wide, and Rick
laid his palm along Morty’s jaw.
“Y-Y-You cut yourself. On purpose!”
Oh that. Rick didn’t need to see the scar to know what Morty meant. “Yes. GF
chips. I cut them out.” He forced himself out of the afterglow enough to stare
at Morty sharply. “Are you all right? Why are you seeing that?”
“I d-don’t know, I – were they tracking you?”
Rick smirked bitterly. “Yes, with one. Electrocuting me with others. I was
good, that’s why they didn’t stick them in my neck.” Morty’s eyes kept straying
to his shoulder, so Rick forced Morty’s gaze back with his hand. “Why are you
seeing that? You shouldn’t be using your power again, not after you collapsed.”
Morty bit his lip. “I’m not trying to, Rick. I can’t stop,” he whispered. “It
just happened.”
After searching Morty’s face, Rick exhaled slowly. “Okay. Come here.” He folded
Morty back into his arms, resting his chin on top of Morty’s head. Morty melted
into the touch, and Rick felt Morty’s breath lightly tickling his throat.
Fuck, the kid just lost his virginity, he scolded himself. No wonder he’s mixed
up. He probably doesn’t know what he’s doing anyway. Work it out later.
Rick sank back into the sea of warm sensations and emotions and held Morty for
a long time, letting his fingers trail slowly up and down Morty’s spine.
Eventually Morty relaxed into sleep, and Rick went soon after.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you all for reading chapter 3! I wanted to post before the last
     episode of Season 3 (noooo!).
     I have the flu, so my brain is too fried to say anything else...
     If you are on Tumblr, please give me a follow: here.
***** Once You Know, You Can Never Go Back *****
Chapter Summary
     "Tell me about your accident."
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Sleep slowly receded from Rick. He luxuriated in the weight and heat of Morty
pressed against him, and was careful not to move. When he was sure Morty was
soundly asleep, Rick turned slightly to look at the display on the ship’s
dashboard.
Plenty of time, he noticed with relief. He had set their coordinates to a
remote planet. He had no intention of arriving there; as soon as they got
close, he would change their direction. He feared they were being followed and
he planned to jump around until he knew what to do. They could always portal
out of the ship, but then their only defenses were what they could carry and
what was in their heads.
Morty, what the fuck am I going to do with you? Rick worried.
If it were just Rick alone, he would stand his ground. He’d made peace with
death – obviously – but Morty needed to be protected. Without him, Morty could
fall victim to who knows what, and that scared Rick worse than the prospect of
his own death, imprisonment, or torture.
When Morty finally stirred on his own, Rick petted his hair gently. “Hey,
baby.” He kept his voice low.
Morty squirmed and buried his face into Rick’s chest. “Rick.”
“That’s me. Sleep okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Morty swallowed. “Did we, I mean, did you…?”
Rick gave Morty’s hair an affectionate tug. “God, I hope so.”
Surprising him, Morty laughed softly. “M-Me too.”
“Good to hear.” Rick tipped his chin up to kiss him. Morty was completely
obedient to his mouth and hand, and suddenly Rick’s never-ending libido became
aware that the boy stretched out on him was quite naked.
Shit. Rick shifted to kiss the corner of Morty’s mouth, then his cheek. “Morty.
As much as I want to lick you clean,” he touched their foreheads, “I don’t
think I should start things up again. Well, not this second.” He couldn’t help
but add the last with grin. He watched the questions and desire flicker across
Morty’s face, before reaching down to give Morty’s bare hip a squeeze. “Come
on, let’s get you washed up.”
After he got Morty up and sitting in his own seat, Rick pulled his own pants up
and found some aloe wipes, thanking himself for being prepared for any
contingency. Quickly, he tended to himself, then turned to Morty. He helped
Morty wipe away the sweat and fluids, kissing and petting him when it came to
cleaning sensitive places. That accomplished, he reluctantly gathered up
Morty’s clothes and dressed him.
Morty smiled down at Rick, who was kneeling, hands on Morty’s knees. “Thanks,
Rick.”
This kid. Rick ran his hand across Morty’s cheek. “Anytime.” He got to his feet
and grabbed his own shirt from the floor. “Sit with me,” he said, pulling the
tank top over his head and returning to his seat. He flopped down, back to the
door again. Morty climbed up and onto his lap, resting against Rick’s chest
like he belonged there. Rick let his arms drop around Morty a moment before
reaching up and gingerly running his finger over Morty’s scar. “Tell me about
your accident.”
“Um.” Morty shifted down so he could listen to the pound of Rick’s heart. It
was comforting. “I was eight. Dad was driving with me and Summer, but Summer
was in the backseat. Dad ran a red light and a truck hit us on the passenger
side. I had a skull fracture and was in a coma for three weeks.”
“That dumbass fuck,” Rick said under his breath. He might not have meant Morty
to hear, but Morty heard the rumble in Rick’s chest. Louder, Rick asked, “You
woke up able to read minds or what?”
“I-I didn’t know right away. It took me a long time to get better, after I got
out of the hospital. I slept a lot. One time I woke up, and Grandpa Rick was
sitting there. He looked so upset, I –” Morty struggled with the words to
explain what he did. “I was scared and I wanted to know what he was thinking.
It’s like, I took my mind to him?” Rick squeezed his arm in encouragement. “I
only got a b-brief flash that he was afraid I would die. I couldn’t hold on,
and the pain in my head…then I puked,” he finished lamely.
“You told him?”
“No, not then. I tried a few more times, without, you know, knowing what I was
doing. It got easier. We were in the garage once and I looked. He was thinking
about what he was building and I asked him what a word he had been thinking
meant. He started putting together then.”
Rick looked up at the ship’s ceiling, thinking and absently curling his fingers
into the side of Morty’s hair. “Did you keep trying? Experiment?”
“Some. I-I was pretty young, Rick. It was scary.”
“Did you only try to read your Grandpa Rick?”
“I tried my dad once.”
“And?”
Morty wrinkled his nose at the memory. “He’s an idiot.”
Rick barked a surprised laugh. “Now that’s what I want to fucking hear!” He
kissed the top of Morty’s head, and Morty felt himself blush, pleased that Rick
was pleased. “So you can evaluate Jerry’s negative IQ, what else can you do?”
After a long silence, Morty admitted, “I don’t know, Rick. When my Grandpa Rick
died, I stopped. It’s been over four years, until now, and that time when you
showed up.”
“Why’d you stop?”
Morty shrugged slowly. “I was scared to try without him.”
Rick’s arms tightened around him. When he spoke again, his voice was gentler.
“Okay. Let’s focus on me then. You’ve got an old experience and some within the
last day. Tell me about the first time. Everything you can remember.”
“It was right after you showed up at the house, maybe a week? Or t-two? I
waited until I knew you were passed out drunk and I snuck into your room. I
tried to see into your m-mind to see who you were. It’s like…like I’m touching
thoughts, and then I can see and hear them. I did that and I saw a jumble of
stuff. J-Jail, you running down a hallway…uh, I heard your name over a
speaker…then I saw the inside of the ship and you were scanning dimensions. I
got this feeling that you were hiding, but that you weren’t bad, just afraid. I
k-kind of put the rest together.”
Rick was quiet a moment. “Pretty good detective work, Morty. And you decided to
go along with the idea I was your grandfather.”
“N-No! I never did. I’ve always called you Rick, not Grandpa Rick. I knew the
first time I saw you that…that you were you.”
That made Rick quiet again and he returned to absently stroking Morty’s hair.
“You saw a lot.”
“Mmm,” Morty hummed. “I-I think it was easier cause you had been thinking about
that stuff. And you were, y-you know, drunk.”
Rick continued to question, and Morty answered the best he could. Rick was able
to pull out certain things. First, Morty seemed to encounter shit haphazardly.
He could only find specific memories, like Rick taking poison, if they were
fresh in the person’s mind. He didn’t seem to have much control over sensing
people’s emotions, although he appeared to be dead on accurate with what he did
pick up, which was a plus. Morty hinted that he could tell when Rick had been
lost in thought, which Rick found interesting. Morty’s actions had been
passive, mostly, and Rick was wondering how things would change if Morty tried
to do specific things. One thing that was troubling Rick was that Morty was
always using effort to “link,” as he called it. Rick suspected that was the
cause of the pain the boy always went through.
“Does it always hurt?”
“Y-Y-” Morty started and then suddenly stopped. “No. No, Rick!” Morty sat up
and turned to look at him. “When we were, I mean, when, you know, we –”
Rick tilted his head. “Had sex? Did it? Slept together? Went all the way? I
could find lots of words to describe it, Morty, some more colorful.” He really
wasn’t trying to be a dick; Morty needed to be comfortable talking if he was
going to be comfortable doing.
Morty blushed slightly and glanced down. “Come on, R-Rick.”
“Don’t lock up on me, Morty.” Morty looked back up and Rick held his gaze. “If
you want me as a lover, I need you to talk.”
IfIwanthim? Morty was amazed. Rick was asking him for something, something
important. “O-Okay, Rick. I will. And I do.” He took a breath and said words
that were foreign on his tongue. “Want you. As a l-lover.”
Rick touched his face. “Good.” He looked serious, but then his mouth twitched
up at the corner. “I’m looking forward to hearing what you want me to do to
you. In detail.” 
“U-umm, okay.” Morty could feel the heat in his face.
Rick pulled him back down, and Morty could feel Rick talking into his hair. “I
mean it, Morty. Tell me anything.” Morty swallowed and nodded. “So, what about
the pain?”
“O-Oh. When we – were doin’ it – uh, it didn’t hurt me. I didn’t even try, it
just happened. Like, o-one minute I just felt everything in your head, you
know? I couldn’t figure how to break the link because there wasn’t one. It was
like I just walked into your head. When I woke up, it was over.”
Morty was getting used to the pauses that Rick fell into when he was thinking.
It made him nervous, because Rick was usually a nonstop stream of sarcasm. He
seemed more serious and…intense. Morty was afraid that meant their situation
was that bad. He felt Rick’s fingers move. He’s also super touchy, Morty
thought, and the thought bloomed some warmth in his chest.
“What’d it feel like? What’d you see? Was it different?”
Replaying everything in his head, Morty tried to pull out what he had been
feeling so he could focus on what he had gotten from Rick. “Y-Yeah, it was
different. I felt your emotions, but I could feel physical stuff too. A lot.
Sometimes I’ve felt physical stuff in memories, but not…constant? And this was
like, you know, as it was happening.”
“What did that feel like?”
“Uh!” Morty’s voice cracked. “Well…it, uh…w-was…”
“Morty. Focus.” Rick’s voice was firm.
“Rick! I c-can’t –”
“Yes. You can. Come on, Morty, this is important.”
Morty just wanted to hide with the intimacies he was about to reveal. “I-I-I.”
He stopped, took a deep breath, trying to bring his stutter under control. “I
could feel what it felt for you to be in-inside me. While feeling you inside
me.” He took another deep breath. “I felt you cum.”
Rick’s silence stretched for a long time this time. Morty started to worry if
he should have kept his mouth shut. “That…had to be unexpected,” Rick sounded
raspy. “And it’s fucking hot.”
“Wh-wha-”
“What I would have given for that experience some of the times I was having my
ass pounded, Morty. Holy shit.” Morty’s brain did not have time to register
that before Rick went on. “I think I have a theory and a plan.”
“W-What’s that, Rick?”
“I think it was easier for you because I was closer to you than anyone else.
When I was close to you as I could be, your mind opened. You were forcing
things before, but you didn’t have a real goal in your head. There’s the pain,”
he tapped his own temple. “So we’re going to do this logically. I’m going give
you some goals, and you’re going to test them out on me. If we had a third
person, that would be the perfect control, but we’re up shit creek there. I
want you to learn what you’re doing, Morty. Right now, you’re vulner-”
A loud beeping came from the dash of the ship.
“Motherfucker!” Rick pushed Morty up and scrambled for the source of the noise.
Morty watched him angrily punching buttons. Rick checked the mirrors and then
slipped his flask out of his back pocket. “Dumbass.” He took a short pull and
returned it to his pocket.
“Rick?”
“S’okay, Morty. I just overshot my destination. We’re okay, though.” He came
back to the seat.
“Are you s-sure?”
“Yeah.” Morty resumed his place after Rick sat. “Anyway, kiddo, you are
vulnerable. I can’t tell when you are in my head, but there are people who
might be able to. I don’t know. For all I know, you are setting off alarms all
over the fucking place. The smart thing would be to get your power under
control.”
“Y-You think they’re after me? The Galactic Federation?”
Silence, then, “Yeah. I thought it would be the Council of Ricks, but…anyway,
the GF weren’t there for me, because I’d be dead or captured.” 
Fear rose in Morty. “What do we do?”
“Run.” Rick hugged him. “Trust me, I’ve got practice.”
“That’s why you wanted to leave so fast.”
“Yes. But we need to focus on your power while we’re safe, Morty. That’s
priority.”
“M-Maybe I could just, like, not use it a-and not think when people are
around?”
Rick shook his head. “Too risky. If they are using a device to sense you, it
won’t matter.”
Dejected, Morty sighed. “What do you want me to do, Rick?”
Chapter End Notes
     I live - and Happy Halloween! Thanks for sticking in there. Hopefully
     I will be back on my feet in November, but I will keep my profile
     updated.
     Please give_me_a_follow if you like.
***** Be A World, Child *****
Chapter Summary
     “Aw, fuck, right in the kidney! Shit!”
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“You’re going to search my mind. I want you to try two things. First, do it
without making the link that is hurting you. Second, you’re going to find a
memory. I want you to find a name of someone that I used to be a,” he made air
quotes, “terrorist with. There were multiple people, any one of them is fine.”
“Rick! I-I don’t know how to do that!”
Rick gripped his shoulder. “Yes, you do. You’ve already done it once, you just
have to try, Morty. Think about what it was like before, then replicate it.”
It took Morty multiple tries. He kept trying to make that link that he had
grown used to. Finally, he thought about what Rick said, and willed himself to
relax. Once he did, Rick’s mental landscape unfolded for him.
“B-Bird…person?”
“Very good. Any pain?” Morty shook his head. “Excellent. Now what will your
reward be?”
“Huh?”
Morty felt Rick’s arms slide around his waist and pull him closer. “What.
Reward. Would. You. Like?”
“A-Aw jeez, Rick.” Morty wondered how many times Rick had made him blush in the
last day.
“Come on, Morty, I’m sure you can think of something.”
“I, uh, l-like hearing you…talk dirty.”
 “Oh…well. That can be arranged.” Rick sounded pleased.
Morty felt Rick brush his ear with his lips, and Rick began to murmur a stream
of explicit and graphic details of what he’d like to do to Morty. Rick kept it
up until Morty was squirming and beet red in the face. Finally, he gave Morty a
kiss on the ear and sat back with a grin.
“Was that a suitable reward?”
“U-Uh-huh!”
“Good. Round two, hopefully harder.” Rick glanced up at the ship’s ceiling.
“Can’t believe I’m directing you to dig around in my fucking head, Morty. Okay,
find the day that I invented my first portal gun and tell me about it. I’m not
going to think about it, so you’re going to have to look. I haven’t thought of
that day in a long time.”
Morty nodded and swallowed. He closed his eyes and just as he started to make
himself relax, he had access. It was getting easier, he realized, until he
looked around with his mental senses.
Where do I go? he wondered with despair. The surface stuff was easy; it was all
up front. Behind the surface, as Morty pushed through, he realized that Rick’s
mind was like an overflowing warehouse. There were decades of memories, ideas,
feelings…Morty felt a rising panic.
He willed himself to be calm. Okay, it’s Rick, he told himself. There has to be
some organization.
Slowing down, he took a longer look at what was around him. Stacks and stacks
of memories; he turned away from those. He looked up, if there was truly an
“up” here, and saw what he could only describe as a network of illuminated
cables running every which way. There were four different colors that he could
see: red, green, blue, and a strangely glowing black. The last one scared him
instinctively. Looking around more, he could see patterns and textures on the
“walls,” which he believed might reflect how Rick saw himself, built up over
his years.
Okay. Portal gun. Portal gun, portal gun, portal gun. Morty frowned and
concentrated. How do I find it –
A rush of memories crashed over him, and in every one, the portal gun was
featured. Most were short memories of Rick going here or there.
Stop! he thought, and they did. A phalanx of memories stood in front of him.
Morty concentrated again: Rick…making…his first portal gun.
One memory glided forward. Morty sighed in relief and touched it. He was
immersed instantly, and had to remind himself to relay what he saw to Rick. He
summoned even more focus so that he could watch and talk at the same time.
“Y-You’re in your apartment, working at a table covered in mechanical
stuff…You’re young – oh my God, Rick, you’re only nineteen! Wait! You just
dropped what you were working on and the bulb broke…the cover came off the top.
You’re angry. U-Um, you’re working with the parts you’ve got on the table. Were
you trying to invent a time travel device? Yeah! But you broke the insides. I-
I’m skipping ahead a little…Now you’ve got something that looks like your
portal gun, kind of. Smaller bulb…there’s no readout, and it doesn’t look as
big. Okay, you’re testing it – it made a portal! Not as big as the ones your
gun makes now, though. Um. You’re getting up and grabbing a book off the shelf.
Y-You threw it through the portal…nothing happened, it just went through. Okay,
you’re walking up to the portal – wow, your hair is brown, Rick! Uh! Oh, you
just stuck your arm into the portal. Oh my God, you just walked into it! You
didn’t even look back o-or anything!”   
“Can you follow me?”
“I don’t – yes! I just walked through the portal too. Holy crap, where is this?
Everything is…is pink. The trees are blue! You’re standing there, and I’ve
never seen you look shocked like that, Rick!”
“Okay, I think that’s enough.”
Morty felt Rick’s hand pressing on his shoulder and he carefully backed out of
the memory, then Rick’s mind. When he blinked his eyes open, he saw Rick
staring at him with a serious expression.
“Morty, that was…much better, it seems,” Rick said, gesturing Morty back down.
He draped an arm across Morty’s shoulder. “I got the feeling you learned more.”
“I did, Rick!” Morty told everything he experienced before finding Rick’s
portal gun memory.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Morty, you’re making insane progress. I can’t believe
this shit.” Rick brushed his own hair back with his free hand. “Is it because
you’re older? Did you not practice enough before?” He paused, considering. “Is
it us, Morty?”
Shrugging slowly, Morty searched himself for the answer. “I don’t know. All of
it, maybe? But I t-think it’s easier because it’s you.”
Rick made slow circles on Morty’s shoulder. “When you went through the portal
gun memory, you sounded like you were looking through my eyes, but then you
described what I looked like. Am I right?”
“Y-Yeah. That’s right.”
“How?”
Morty bit his lip. “I think…I think when I got more…involved, I guess, in it, I
stepped into the memory, instead of watching. Like becoming a part of the
movie? O-Once I do that, I can see…I can see everything, I think.”
“That…we gotta work with that. But, Morty, you did, you did fucking amazing,
kiddo.” He pressed his lips to the top of Morty’s head. “You definitely deserve
a reward now.”
“Again?” Morty laughed a little.
“Got to keep up the incentives. What do you want?”
“Um.” Morty took some time to think. “I-I kinda just want to make out, Rick. We
never really slowed down, you know?”
“Shit, you’re making this so easy on me.” Rick sounded content, though. He
shifted them so that Morty was against the seatback and he was on his right
side. He tipped Morty’s chin up and took his time with slow, deep kissing.
When Morty was ruffled, out of breath, and had lips puffy from attention, Rick
pulled back and caressed the boy’s cheek. “How’s that?”
“W-We need to do more of that.”
Rick chuckled. “If you insist.”
“Rick? Can…can I try something? For the next, uh, telepathy experiment?”
“Sure. It might be better for you to lead some, since you’re the one with the
power. What do you want to do?”
The image of the cables in Rick’s head had never left Morty’s thoughts
completely. “I don’t know, exactly.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
Morty didn’t move for a while, and then bit his lip. “I-I’m kind of scared,
Rick.”
“Why are you scared?” Rick squeezed his arm.
“I’m afraid I might hurt you.” Morty had no intention of touching the black
cable, but he was afraid maybe they could all be dangerous.
“Physically? Because if it’s mental, I’m beyond hope anyway,” Rick cracked.
Morty ignored the joke. “No, physical.”
“Okay.” Rick let go and rolled himself off the seat. He went to a compartment
in the dashboard and pulled out an injection gun with a glass bottle attached.
A sparkly pink liquid swirled inside the glass. He passed it to Morty before
lying back down. “If anything happens, inject me with this. Don’t kill me,
though – this won’t fix it.”
Morty turned the injection gun over in his hands and swallowed thickly. “Rick?
Why do you trust me so much?”
“Because it’s you.” Rick shrugged. “Go on, now, do your thing.”
Hugging the injection gun to his chest, Morty closed his eyes and let Rick’s
mind unfurl for him. He easily pushed through the present and found the cables
again. He looked at all four colors and nervously chose red. He reached up and
carefully plucked a red cable, like you would a guitar string.
Rick’s yell tore Morty back to the physical world. When he opened his eyes,
Rick was on the floor, gripping his back with a grimace.
“R-Rick!”
“Aw, fuck, right in the kidney! Shit!”
“Rick! I’m sorry!”
“Agh, it’s not letting up – serum!” Morty hesitated. “Come on, Morty!”
Morty fumbled with the gun and managed to inject the pink liquid into Rick’s
upper arm. The older man took several deep breaths, then relaxed.
Rick felt the spread of the serum throughout his arm, into his chest and back,
then everywhere. It was a warm tingle that swept away pain and exhaustion with
it. He closed his eyes, letting it do its quick work. Whatever Morty had
done…holy shit. He’d had beatings that were less painful.
“Gotta fix you up, Rick. Wouldn’t want you to wake the other prisoners, heh
heh.”
No! Rick brought his hands to his face. He didn’t want to go there, but it was
no surprise. He flinched, remembering the feel of a broken leg healing after
the GF guard injected him with some serum or other. Rick could hear Morty
talking, but the words were lost to the rush in his ears. He heard himself
cussing out the guard, threatening uselessly to put the injector in its eye –
eyes – when a hand clamped onto his shoulder.
“Rick. S-Snap out of it!”
That was enough to bring Rick back. He took his hands from his face and
actively slowed his breathing.
“I’m so sorry, Rick! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I didn’t want you to think of
that p-place!”
Morty’s anguish was apparent. Rick rolled over to face the boy and grabbed him
hard by the wrist. “No. Morty, don’t say sorry. This is important. You just,
you just found a way to defend yourself. With your head. If something happens
to me, or you’re alone, you’ll have a way to protect yourself.”
“I-If something happens to you?”
Rick sighed. “We have to be prepared, Morty. We don’t know what’s coming.” He
let go of Morty and rubbed his own forehead. “This is good, real good.” He
could feel Morty watching him closely. 
“T-Turn around, Rick.”
“What?”
Morty pushed on his shoulders. “Just do it, okay?”
Rick complied, sitting with his back to the seat, ass on the hard floor. He
stretched his long legs out in front of him as best he could in the tight
space. “Better?”
Morty scooted forward and sat with his legs on either side of Rick. “Yeah.” He
brought his hands to Rick’s shoulders and started to massage. Despite the
serum, Rick was tense. He pushed deep into the muscles, tending to Rick’s
shoulders first, then the back of his neck and head, and then back down. “I
didn’t want you to think of t-that. I don’t feel good about it.”
“It’s okay, Morty. I know.” Morty’s fingers were unexpectedly, pleasantly
skilled. Rick let his head hang as the boy worked along the back of his neck.
“It happens. The memories, I mean.”
“Why did they do that to you? Can I ask?”
Rick sighed. “Oh babe. It’s ugly.”
“It doesn’t m-make sense, Rick. Why heal you?”
“It makes too much sense.” Rick leaned a little forward so Morty could reach
lower. He grunted as the boy found a particularly tense spot. “If you’re
torturing someone, it’s much more fucking horrible to take them from completely
healed to zero each time. If you are being tortured, you start to get used to
the pain if you are constantly in it. So when they healed me, the pain was new
each time. When you’re healed, you start to forget what the pain is like.”
“J-Jesus Christ, Rick.”
“Yeah, well, he’s got nothing to do with it.”
They both fell silent for a while. Morty kept massaging, except for a moment
when Rick leaned forward to change their coordinates again. He liked touching
Rick, making him feel good. He started thinking about what he could do to test
his ability again…and what he could do to make Rick forget the prison memory.
The backrub was nice, but he didn’t feel it was enough.
If I could combine the two, he thought, chewing his lip absently. What if I
could make him see something? And feel something?
“Rick?”
Rick tilted his head in Morty’s direction. “Hmm?”
“Can I try something? With telepathy, I mean.” He didn’t notice that he started
rubbing Rick’s neck more earnestly.
“Sure. What is it?”
Despite what had happened with the cable experiment, Rick did not sound
apprehensive to Morty. “Umm…can I not say? I don’t know if it will work. But
it’s not dangerous, I-I promise.”
Rick nodded. “It’s okay, Morty. That may have sucked, but look at what you
learned – what we learned. Look at how far you’ve come, just today. So whatever
you’re thinking, do it.”
Morty wished he could see Rick’s expression, but that was just nerves after
what he had done. Intellectually, he knew Rick was serious. He slid his thumbs
under the straps of Rick’s tank top and pressed the smooth skin there. As he
did, he took himself through the steps of easing his mind that allowed him
access to Rick. Each time was easier, and he stepped into Rick’s mind, staying
in the surface space this time.
He knew now that he could act upon Rick’s mind and body. What he wanted to try
was to give Rick one of his own memories. When he was in Rick’s mind, he
visualized Rick’s memories as standing images that he could access with a
touch. His instinct was to try to project his own memory to look like that.
Again, Morty felt at a loss, but he pressed ahead with his idea anyway. He
wanted to give Rick the memory that he had called “fucking hot”: when Morty had
felt Rick feeling him during sex. Morty was starting to understand that how he
viewed Rick’s mind was his imaginative interpretation of what was there…so
shouldn’t he be able to manipulate things at will?
Concentrating, he created a standing image of his own memory like the ones in
Rick’s head. He touched it and, like a movie, it started to play. In the ship,
Rick didn’t respond. Morty could see it, but it seemed Rick couldn’t.
Shit.
Morty tried different things to no avail: making the image huge, making the
image cover the entire surface of Rick’s mind, joining memories together, and
got nothing. He found himself staring at the “ceiling” in frustration. Four
webs of cables glowed back at him: red, green, blue, and black.
Red must be the body, he reasoned. And the others?
He studied the patterns for so long that he heard Rick ask, “Everything okay?”
“Y-Yeah. Just…trying to figure this out.”
There did seem to be a pattern to the patterns. Black cables were the fewest,
then green, then red, and blue was the most common. Morty screwed up his
courage and touched – just touched – a blue cable.
What the hell is this for? he wondered.
“What the hell is what for?” Rick asked.
Morty snapped back to reality. “W-What!”
“What the hell is what for?” Rick tilted his head. “What are you talking
about?”
“You heard me?”
Rick twisted around so he could look over his shoulder at Morty and frowned at
him. “Yeah. It’s a small ship, Morty.”
Morty pulled his hands from Rick’s shoulders and squeezed the edges of the seat
with excitement. “R-Rick, I didn’t say anything. I thought it. In your head!”
“Holy fuck,” Rick shifted more, “what did you –”
“Let me try, Rick,” Morty was so eager that he interrupted Rick. “I think I
know what to do now!”
“Okay, okay. Go for it.” Rick seemed interested, instead of annoyed at being
cut off.
Morty pushed at Rick’s shoulders, trying to reposition him. “Turn back around.”
Rick complied. “You’re really building up the suspense for me, here.” Morty
resumed kneading. “I expect answers.”
“Done.” Morty didn’t wait for a response and re-entered Rick’s mind.
He hurried back to the cables with a hypothesis. If this was all his
interpretation…and the blue cable allowed him access to Rick’s conscious
thoughts…
Morty remade the standing memory video below the blue webbing. After years of
watching Jerry futz with the television, he easily visualized an audio/video
input cable in his hand. He created ports on the memory and the blue cable and
connected them. Morty took a deep breath and started the memory with a touch.
Immediately, Morty felt Rick jerk under his hands. He dug in his fingers as
they both lived Morty’s memory.
He watched with fascination as his memory played. He saw so much more than he
had been able to absorb at the time. There was the obvious, the bliss of being
decisively taken by Rick, the sensation of being filled in a way his body
didn’t understand, all coupled with Rick’s overlapping feelings of penetrating
and losing himself in the euphoria of sex and release. Then there were things
Morty had missed at the time: sweat running down Rick’s temple, the way their
moans mingled together, Rick’s damp skin pressed to his chest.
When the memory ended, Morty dispelled it all with a swipe of his mind and
simultaneously felt Rick shudder. Morty brought himself out of Rick’s head and
saw Rick was slightly slumped forward, breathing rough.
“Holy fucking…Jesus Christ…is that what you…what did you just do?” The words
tumbled out of Rick.
On impulse, Morty wrapped his arms around Rick’s neck. “I-I think I just gave
you my memory,” he said into Rick’s hair.
Rick reached up to wrap his hands around Morty’s twined arms. “Fuck yes, you
did. Is that, is that what you felt?” Morty nodded against Rick’s head.
“Jesus,” Rick repeated. He pulled Morty’s arms off his neck. He moved so
quickly Morty was surprised, and Rick was leaning in between his legs and
kissing him.
After succumbing to the kisses for a minute, Morty pulled back. Rick almost
growled and gripped him by the back of the neck. “W-Wait!” Morty panted. “Can I
get a reward for that?”
“Baby, you’re about to get one hell of a reward right now.”
“No, I want something specific, I mean.”
Rick hung his head a second and made a frustrated sigh. “Okay, fair’s fair.
What?”
“Tell me o-one of your k-kinks.”
The laugh Rick made was both surprised and a bit breathless. “Other than having
a memory of us fucking stuck in my brain? Oh shit, Morty, there are so many,
and you’ve already found some if you think about it. I’ll give you an easy one.
I like you submissive, but I like it when you challenge me back even better.
That enough?”
Morty took the hint and kissed him hard.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you for reading! I hope you are enjoying this...let's just say
     shit's about to get real. If you follow my Evil Morty stories, I
     recently updated, so please check it out! Also, follow_me!
***** All These Things into Position *****
Chapter Summary
     “Rick Sanchez…Morty Smith…I’ll get a promotion for this.”
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Rick wracked his memory and tried to ignore his grumbling stomach. He hadn’t
entered these coordinates in so long that he wasn’t sure he was right. One of
his watches indicated that he and Morty were well past dinnertime and getting
something to eat was becoming more and more of a priority. Mentally crossing
his fingers, he typed in a sequence of numbers and altered their path.
“Where are we going, Rick?” Morty was sitting sideways on the passenger seat,
his knees pressed into Rick’s thigh.
Rick slumped back and patted one of Morty’s knees absently. “I hope we’re going
to an outpost that’s not allied with the Galactic Federation. I used to go
there all the time. There’s a restaurant, we can get supplies, check the ship
over. I just know if we don’t eat soon, shit’s going to get miserable.”
“Is it safe?” There was worry in Morty’s voice.
“Eh.” Rick shrugged. “Safe as possible. There was never a GF raid there that I
know of.” He looked over at Morty’s serious face. “We’ve got to eat sometime.
We have burned a lot of calories.” He gave Morty a flirty look and was rewarded
with downcast eyes and a smile.
And then there’s the opportunity for using his powers on a third party, Rick
thought, but didn’t want to broach the issue too soon for fear Morty would
psych himself out. If he can access minds other than people he is close to,
he’s golden.
His amazement at Morty was growing steadily by the hour. When he had known
nothing about Morty’s power, Rick’s attraction for him had been a source of
confusion and self-revulsion. He didn’t want to take advantage of someone who
was innocent, and the overtones of the typical Rick and Morty distribution of
power only made it worse. The last thing Rick wanted to be was a Rick who had a
Morty that was no better than a slave to his orders. He had the opportunity to
pick up a “free” Morty at the Citadel once, but the thought had sickened him.
What would he have done with the boy, other than carry him around for his
shielding ability? Rick didn’t need that.
Then he had wound up with this Morty. He had tried to view the boy in an
amicable but overall neutral way as he had grown. Really, Rick viewed the whole
family in this light, except Jerry, who had managed to dig his way under Rick’s
skin as time went on. Rick had no patience for idiocy or missing common sense.
Morty, though, had potential that his own family seemed to be unable to see. He
was bright, curious, and he had a compassion and respect for life that touched
Rick through his jadedness. Rick had grown fond of him easily, adopting him as
his sidekick of sorts, and the more time he spent with Morty, the more that
fondness and a desire blossomed. He had fought the physical attraction at
first, but every time he was around Morty, it grew worse. He never introspected
on why; it wasn’t in his nature. Finally, he had been forced to admit to
himself that those feelings were not going to go away.
And now this. The rapidly growing mental powers, the sex and reciprocated
feelings…Rick’s head wanted to spin, but he couldn’t let it. The ship was a
nice shelter for now, but the threat was real. All he needed to do was remember
the red of the robot-Jerry’s eyes and the feel of the gun in his hand.
How long were they there? How did I let that slip by?
He had so many questions. It made no sense. Why would the GF infiltrate the
house, when they could have scooped Morty up and killed a fugitive on their way
out the door? Morty would have no defense and Rick didn’t think that the GF
would find an ex-prisoner useful, especially since he had committed no crimes
against them since his escape.  
Oh, God, unless they wanted us to run.
Rick put his hand to his eyes involuntarily.
He felt Morty’s hand on his shoulder. “Rick? Are you okay?”
Rick squeezed the bridge of his nose and forced out the lie. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
He dropped his hand to his back pocket and grabbed his flask. “Wubba lubba dub
dub, am I right, Morty?” Morty’s brow furrowed, but Rick didn’t wait for an
answer. He leaned forward to inspect the keypad while unscrewing the flask’s
cap. “We’re closer than I thought,” he said with relief and took a long pull of
whiskey with a dash of altered mega seed juice. “Good.” 
“Rick?”
“Yeah?” He slipped the flask back in its pocket, estimating that they had about
fifteen minutes or so.
“I don’t w-want you to shelter me, okay?” Morty grabbed Rick’s arm, his voice
firm despite the stutter.
“Morty…” Rick looked down at the boy’s hand, having the grace to feel guilty.
“I don’t want to burden you with my speculation, especially when you can’t do
anything about it.”
“That’s bullshit, Rick!” Morty snapped, and Rick’s head shot up in surprise.
“We-we’ve spent all this time learning what my brain does and having s-sex and
now you want to act like I can’t handle it? That isn’t fair, Rick!” His face
was hurt and anger, mingled.
Rick had to turn away from that look, shamed by it. He was silent before he put
enough words together to say, “You’re right, it’s not fair. Maybe I’m just used
to not having a partner.” He missed the surprise and blush that crept into
Morty’s face. “Even when it was me, Birdperson, and Squanchy, I had to rely on
myself first.” He looked back to Morty. “I’m fucked up in a lot of ways, Morty,
but I don’t want to hurt you or treat you wrong.” Rick watched Morty bite his
lip and stare back at him. He waited for the boy to speak, not knowing what
else to say himself. Voicing his feelings was alien at best.
“I know you don’t, Rick. I’ve seenwhat you want. What the hell, that’s why you
should trust me. Just…just give me some…some consideration, okay? Okay?” Morty
squeezed Rick’s forearm, hoping his words would get through.
Rick nodded slowly and took a breath. “You’re right. I’m being an asshole.”
“You’re trying to protect me. That’s not bad, just…not necessary.”
Morty surprised him by letting go of his arm, climbing over him, and straddling
his lap. Rick felt arms encircle his neck and he let himself bury his face in
Morty’s shoulder. He pulled the boy closer. But I’ll never stop trying to
protect you.
“What weren’t you saying, Rick?”
He struggled with how to tell the truth in the least threatening way. He was
just guessing; there was no need to scare the shit out of Morty with his
suppositions. What Rick really wanted was to just sit here and smell Morty’s
shirt until they arrived at their destination. “I don’t understand why the GF
acted the way they did,” he finally admitted. “It’s not their usual behavior.
Why not grab you, me, or both, if that’s what they wanted? Why send robots and
not soldiers? Why let us get away?”
“Maybe…maybe they were doing, like, surveillance?”
“Mmm. I don’t know. There’s more subtle ways to spy. I – it makes no sense,
Morty! It’s like there’s a big fucking piece of the puzzle I can’t see.” He
pushed Morty back and rested his hands on either side of the boy’s neck so they
could look each other in the eye. “I’ve dealt with them my whole life. They are
regimented. Cruel. Predictable. Sometimes to the point of being stupid. They’re
a militia, Morty, in every sense.”
“If you feel something isn’t right, Rick, I believe you.” Morty was earnest.
“What do we do?”
Rick sighed and shrugged. “For now? Keep moving and try to get any information
we can. I don’t like going up against the unknown, at all.” The dashboard
chirped a warning time. “We’ll have to think of a strategy, because we can only
fly around aimlessly for so long. I don’t know, call in some favors…but,
there’s something I want you to do, babe, when we land.”
“W-What’s that?”
“I’m going to pick someone and you’re going to enter their mind. If you can do
something while you’re in there, even better.”
Morty instantly looked worried and Rick could feel him tense up. “Aw, Rick.”
“Hey.” Rick made sure Morty was focused on him. “You can do this. Morty, we
need to know if you can do this to anyone or just people you know. I’m sure you
can think of reasons why.”
Nodding, Morty conceded, “Yeah.”
Rick found himself being hugged again. He relished the moment of closeness
before saying reluctantly, “Not to be a buzzkill, but I need to land manually.”
He brushed his lips across Morty’s cheek as the boy sat up. “To be continued.”
“Good. I’ll, uh, hold you to that.” Morty gave him a smile, and Rick felt
reassured that even though Morty might be worried, he was bearing up okay.
Morty returned to the passenger seat, and Rick directed his concentration to
landing on the small asteroid that held their target outpost.
Morty watched through the windshield as Rick guided them in. They had been to
similar places before, where it seemed like it was just a floating rock with a
few shops and a place to eat on it. Now he wondered if all those places were
resisting the Galactic Federation in some way. Rick usually had his reasons, so
Morty was betting they were. They floated down and Rick settled the ship right
next to the entrance of a well-lit restaurant.
“Let’s go. I’m starving.”
“You’re taking those guns?” Morty raised his eyebrows, looking at Rick’s pants.
“Oh shit! Good point.” Rick reached behind Morty’s seat and pulled out a rifle
and handed it to him. “Here. Just in case.” He pulled a pistol off his right
leg and passed that over too. “And that.” He got another rifle from behind the
seat for himself.
“Th-they’re going to let us in with these?” Morty balanced the rifle across his
knees and tried to jam the pistol into the waistband of his jeans without
blowing his junk off.
Rick opened his door. “Oh yeah. Besides, I know the owner.” He got out and
closed the door behind him.
Morty scrambled to do the same, feeling awkward with this firepower. Outside,
Rick was waiting, taking a hit from his flask. When Morty was free of the
doorway, he put the flask away.
“Ship.” The ship chirped at Rick’s command. “Protect yourself.”
“Ship…armed,” the ship’s female voice replied.
“Ready?” Rick’s hand pressed against Morty’s back, below where the rifle hung
from its strap. Morty allowed himself to be guided toward the restaurant door.
“Remember, I’m going to pick someone.”
“R-Right.” The doors slid open and they passed into the cool air inside.
“Rick Sanchez?” a garbled voice called out immediately.
“The very same,” Rick responded easily. Morty looked up at him and caught a
wicked grin. “Nodlon, you motherfucker, what’s up?”
Nodlon was apparently the large, red, octopus-esque creature that was coming
around the side of the counter. “Same old shit, Rick. I haven’t seen you in
what, five glaagnars? What can I do for you? Need supplies? Weapons? Are you on
the run? Who’s the kid?”
“Whoa, hey! Watch the third degree. This is Morty. We’re, uh, going to take a
seat and then I’ll fill you in.”
Nodlon gestured to a row of booths with one of his tentacles. “You got it,
Rick. Good to meet ya, Morty.” 
Morty and Rick took a booth directly behind a pair of aliens. Rick’s back was
against an open booth, Morty across from him. Morty struggled with his rifle
and managed to get it so that it was mostly under the table, but resting
against his leg. A large-breasted, blue-furred woman took their orders. Morty
picked something at random. None of the words were familiar, but this was what
he usually did in that situation. Rick would have rescued him if he had made
terrible choice.
Rick leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “When he comes over, read
Nodlon.”
Morty nodded and swallowed. A stranger and nonhuman. Rick did not pick an easy
target. He willed himself to relax immediately, knowing that he might not have
much time, depending on how long Rick could keep this guy at their booth. Rick
kicked him playfully under the table and Morty exhaled and smiled, the
lightheartedness helping.
The waitress returned with their drinks and food. Whatever Morty had ordered
looked like some strange orange pasta with unknown vegetables. He tasted it
apprehensively, but found it was good. It tasted like squash and zucchini, with
heavy spices. He glanced up from shoveling the food down and saw Rick was doing
the same. Until he started eating, Morty hadn’t realized how hollow his stomach
was.
When he was about three-quarters done, Morty started to slow down. Rick was
drinking from a large bottle, holding it in one hand and balancing a full fork
with the other. He set the bottle down and belched.
“Oh fuck, I needed that.” He ate from his fork and then gestured to Morty’s
mostly empty plate. “Good?” Morty nodded, chewing. “Good.” He glanced to his
left. “Here comes Nodlon. Game’s on, babe.”
Morty looked over at his target. Nodlon came up to their table and instead of
using a chair, balanced himself on some tentacles, somewhat reclined, while he
folded the others like arms. Morty took himself as far to openness as he could,
and only caught the beginning of Rick and Nodlon’s conversation.
“Well, Rick, what’s going on? I know you, something must be up.”
“I’m in some shit, Nod. We could use those supplies. We’re good on weapons, but
food and healing stuff are a problem. I got flurbos with your name on them.”
“I don’t need your money. You’re a friend.”
“You might need it…”
Rick’s voice faded from his ears as Morty focused on Nodlon. Not having any
idea what to expect, Morty was shocked when Nodlon’s mind opened at his first
attempt to access it. It was not as easy as Rick’s mind, but it was like he had
a skeleton key that just required a little jiggle on his part. When he stepped
inside, though, it was as weird as the alien’s appearance was to him. He tried
to orient himself. The “front” still seemed to be surface thoughts, memories,
and feelings, but the space was red and throbbing. Morty walked around and saw
webbing on nearly every wall and the ceiling in a myriad of colors. What he
identified as old memories were not the simple images he saw in Rick’s mind,
but piles of balls and other spheroid shapes. Morty retreated to the surface
area and tried to get a read on what was currently happening. He noticed there
was a large ball that was floating in mid-air and quickly spinning. He went to
touch it, but found he could sense things from it as soon as his hand got
close. He was washed with Nodlon’s opinions of Rick and his current thoughts.
Morty sighed in relief. Nodlon was a friend and viewed Rick as a hero of sorts.
He wanted to help. Rick had placed his trust wisely. Satisfied, Morty pulled
back.
He blinked and realized he was staring at the table. He looked up at Rick, who
was still engaged in conversation. Rick’s eyes flicked in his direction and
Morty gave him a nod. Rick looked away, but Morty felt Rick nudge his leg in
answer.
He finished his dinner while Rick and Nodlon discussed supply specifics. While
he ate, he noticed something he never had before. He could sense where everyone
was in the room. Rick was easiest, but Morty knew he could close his eyes and
point to every being in the restaurant. Did I not notice this before? Have I
really gotten that much stronger? Morty felt like he and Rick had tapped into
something that had depths he couldn’t fathom.
“I’ll meet you out back, Rick, when you’re ready to leave. Morty, you’re quiet,
son, but I hope to see you again.”
“Thanks, Nodlon. For everything,” Morty said with sincerity.
“No problem.”
Morty watched him shuffle and slither off, then turned to Rick, “I did it!” he
whispered.
“Good! I want to hear everything.” Rick squeezed Morty’s arm. “Tell me when
we’re in the ship. Want some ice cream?”
“Ice cream sounds great, Rick.” Morty relaxed against the booth cushion as Rick
twined their fingers together. The other beings in the room were like little
glowing constellations all around. The person behind him was extremely close.
“Rick Sanchez…Morty Smith…I’ll get a promotion for this.”
Morty sat bolt upright, but not before he saw the image of a medal decorated
with a blood red cross.
“Morty?” Rick squeezed his hand, concerned. “What –”
“U-Uh, Rick?” Morty struggled to make up a coded message. “Uh, you know what
the ship said? Before we came in? The ship?”
“Yes…” Rick spoke slowly, sitting up and withdrawing his hand.
“I think we should take her advice. Now.” Morty jerked his head back to
indicate the booth behind them. Rick stared over Morty’s head and quietly
withdrew his rifle from under the table. He started to slide out of his seat,
and Morty hurried to do the same.
By the time the occupants of the other booth noticed, Rick and Morty were
standing side by side, rifles drawn. The GF agent, a one-eyed skinny yellow
being, started to reach for something, and Rick loudly cocked his rifle.
“Anybody else fucking move and this will be a bloodbath,” Rick snarled. “Morty,
get behind me.” Morty did as he said, and Rick shot the agent in the head,
blowing green liquid all over the wall. Gasps went up. “That’s a fucking
warning.” He started to slowly back up, scanning the room, and Morty stayed
behind, also walking backwards.
In a flash of inspiration, he started tapping the minds of everyone in the
room, starting with the dead alien’s seatmate, just to get their immediate
thoughts. The thoughts of agents were obvious. “Them!” he pointed. Another
mind. “Them!” And another. “Them!”
Rick dispatched all three with the rifle. “Shit, Morty, run!”
Morty turned and sprinted out the door while Rick covered them with rifle fire.
“Ship!” Rick yelled. “Remote start!”
The ship came to life and Morty threw himself at the passenger door. He and
Rick jumped in at the same time. Rick grabbed the wheel and lifted them off the
ground as several beings streamed out of the restaurant, weapons drawn.
“Ship! Keep us safe!” Rick was struggling with holding his rifle and buckling
his seatbelt at the same time. “Buckle up, Morty!”
Morty tossed his rifle between the seats as the ship started to fire on the
beings. He belted himself in and watched the ship mow down everyone outside.
Rick threw down the rifle with a snarl and took the wheel again, taking them
off the asteroid at a rapid speed.
“Goddammit – motherfuckin’ – GF – fucking bastards –” Rick swore, leaning
forward as if he could make the ship go faster with willpower. “Ship! Access
auxiliary power!” The ship chirped in compliance. “Increase speed twenty
percent!”
“R-Rick?” Morty asked, and gripped the seat nervously. “Are we safe?”
Rick shook his head, his jaw set. “No. No, we aren’t.” He suddenly cut a hard
left. “How did they know where we were going, Morty? I didn’t know where we
were going until right before I set the coordinates. You never knew where we
were going. The ship must be bugged somehow, that’s the only thing that makes
sense. The ship was sitting in the garage the whole time the GF were in the
house. Fuck. We have to get out of here.”
“Out of the ship?”
Rick turned, and his expression made the danger even more real for Morty. “Yes.
We have to portal out. The question is, where do we go? Where is safe?”
“Okay, Rick, l-let’s slow down. We need to think this out.” He reached out and
touched Rick’s shoulder, and the man was clearly wound. “I-If they’re
following, they’re following. We have to plan.”
Rick was breathing hard, taking the ship through twists and turns, and Morty
wondered if he’d even heard. He didn’t like invading Rick’s mind without
permission, but he knew time was critical now.
A blink and he was below the nest of cables. He grabbed a blue cable and
channeled waves of calm and comfort down it. Letting go, he quickly returned to
the interior of the ship and saw that Rick had rested his forehead on the
wheel, eyes closed.
“Rick, I’m sorry.” Morty pressed his shoulder.
“No,” Rick’s eyes fluttered open and he raised his head. “I wasn’t being
rational. Okay, let’s think.” He slumped back, making his flask appear and
letting the ship take a direct course for a minute.
Morty grabbed Rick’s right hand while Rick drank using his left. “Is there
anywhere they won’t go? What if we went back to the house? Maybe they’re gone?”
He felt safer holding onto the older man.
Swallowing, Rick shook his head. “Too much chance they left someone or
something behind. They might have expected us not to run.” He took another
swallow. “Not too many places they won’t go either; they’re bold, entitled
fuckers. There are some holdouts that they aren’t likely to approach, but I’m
not sure how determined they are.”
“What about friends?”
“Heh. Slim pickings now, after they rounded a bunch of us up on Gromflom Prime.
I’d try Unity…but it was trying to negotiate with the GF. I don’t know if it
would hide me. And the, you know, break up.”
Morty raised an eyebrow at him.
Rick drank again. “Birdperson and Squanchy’s home planets are GF holdouts, but
they’d probably expect us to go there.” He belched and muttered, “Fuck.”
Morty looked up as he heard the ship raising phaser cannons. “U-U-Uh, Rick!”
“Oh shit!” A huge black and red spaceship glided into view from their right.
Morty could only assume it was a Galactic Federation ship. “Shit motherfucker!”
Rick rummaged with his pants and pulled out his portal gun. “Ship! Protect
yourself!” He reached out and hauled Morty onto the seat beside him. “We’re
going to run this way. Grab the rifles.” Morty grabbed their straps. “Planet
Squanch it is.” He started punching the portal gun’s keypad.
“Wait! I know where, Rick!” The man looked over at him sharply. “The Citadel!
They’ll never follow us there.”
“Oh, oh fuck no, Morty.” Rick shook his head violently.
Chapter End Notes
     Happy holidays! Thank you for reading the next chapter. I will be
     changing my posting schedule in a month or so, which I will update on
     my profile.
     Give_me_a_follow if you like!
***** Hijacked Affairs *****
Chapter Summary
     When you're surrounded by yourselves, can you hide, or do you only
     stand out more?
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“But they hate the Council! We could blend in with all the other Ricks and
Mortys –”
“The Citadel’s just as dangerous as the GF, Morty! You have no idea, and
they’ll take everything we have to defend ourselves – guns, the portal gun,
everything. The Council’s another fucking government!” A blast from the GF
cruiser rocked their small ship. Rick grabbed Morty by the arm and braced them
both.
“They won’t have my mind, Rick.”
“That’s what I’m afraid they will get.” Rick’s voice was low. A loud whir came
from Rick’s ship and it began firing back at the GF cruiser in streaks of pink
light. “No time.” He began to key a number in again.
“Rick. We have no place to run to! W-We’ll just keep running! Maybe we can
hide…please trustme.” Morty implored Rick his expression and tried to hit
Rick’s mind with what he feared: that they would just hop from place to place
with no plan, until they were finally caught.
Another volley hit the ship, making the lights flicker. Rick hung his head.
“Under your seat, there’s a wooden box. Grab it.”
Morty hurried for the box while Rick rekeyed the portal gun. The box was about
the size of a paperback book, with a sliding lid.
As he sat back down beside Rick, the older man said in a voice that was almost
sad, “Ship. Start sequence lambda-four-seven-one-nine-three.”
Chirp. “Authorization?”
“Authorization Rick Sanchez two-seven-delta-phi-five.”
“Self-destruct initiated, in thirty…twenty-nine…”
Rick grabbed Morty by the chin and kissed him hard and quick. “Follow my lead.”
He fired the portal gun, and the swirling green disk covered most of the
interior of the ship.
“Twenty-five…twenty-four…”
Morty let Rick pull him up by the arm and followed one pace behind, the box
clutched to his chest. There was the normal momentary portal disorientation and
the sound of blood pounding in his ears.
Cool air hit Morty in the face. He blinked and saw they were surrounded by a
ring of Ricks, all in uniforms of white, navy, gold. The sight made Morty
dizzy; he had never seen more than one Rick at a time before. He looked from
each to each, and they were nearly identical in appearance. Some of the
uniforms were different, but most held black rifles stiffly against their
chests.
One that had more medals and a smart looking cap stepped forward and addressed
his Rick. “You should know that the Council forbids unauthorized portal gun use
within the Citadel.”
“I’m sure. Couldn’t be helped. Send my apologies to the Council, Captain.” Rick
returned the portal gun to its loop on his black pants.
The uniformed Rick smirked. “It’s Major. Identification?” He pulled a thick
keypad off his belt and held it out to Rick.
Rick held out his hand to Morty. “Box, Morty.” Morty passed it over and watched
Rick slide the lid back and pull out a gold card. He waved it over the keypad,
then pressed his thumb to the top surface.
The Major held the keypad so he could read the screen. “Rick H-923. You haven’t
been here in a while.”
Rick returned the card to the box and passed it back to Morty. “I can only
spend so much time around you d-bags.”
“Where’d you get the Morty? Says here, you don’t have one.” The Major’s
expression was sharp.
Rick crossed his arms and looked pissed. “Check your fucking readout, Major. I
had a free Morty certificate the last time I was here and I got this one then.
Get your shit straight.”
The Major sniffed and rehung his touchpad on his belt. “I’ll have the
administration look into that. Take his guns.” Four guard Ricks swarmed Rick,
pushing Morty out of the way. “I’m sure you know the drill, H-923.”
Morty watched Rick stand there, arms still folded, as each gun was yanked from
him. It was like seeing him stripped, and Morty couldn’t help but cringe. And
yet, Rick was defiant, all the same.
“Pat him down.”
One of the guard Ricks did so, roughly running his hands all down Rick, who
remained motionless. “He’s clean, Major.”
Rick looked over at that guard. “Enjoy copping that feel?”
“He’s doing his job, H-923.” The Major was clearly annoyed now. “You’re free to
go. We’ll hold your belongings in the spacecraft wing. But I’m sure you
remember.”
“Yep. Have a great fuckin’ day.” Rick turned around and grabbed Morty by the
shoulder. “Come on, Morty.” The guards broke their ring and followed the Major
in a single-file line. Rick started to lead Morty in the opposite direction.
The sights of the Citadel were both amazing and horrifying at the same time.
Pairs of Ricks and Mortys swarmed everywhere. Morty had never seen another
Morty, and it creeped him out. It was like looking into a living mirror,
everywhere he turned. Looking around again, he saw that many of the Ricks
looked like his grandfather: same lab coat, spiky hair, everything. That was
worse than seeing himself everywhere, because now he was seeing his Grandpa
Rick’s ghost. Morty was so focused on the Ricks and Mortys that he didn’t even
notice there were aliens scattered throughout the crowds.
“Hey! Would you like to insure your Morty? For just a thousand schmeckles –”
Morty’s head snapped to his left and saw that a Rick in a blue suit and tie was
hassling his Rick, trying to shove a piece of paper in his face.
“No.” Rick shrugged the other Rick off. “I don’t need insurance.”
“If you change your mind, come on by to Salesman Rick’s! We have all kinds of
useful items!”
“Fine. Great.” Rick pushed Morty faster.
Morty kept up, pulling his eyes from all the alternate versions of themselves
to look around. The ceiling was impossibly high and all the walls were a white
stone or marble. Huge, long windows near the ceiling revealed views of space,
and there was a surprising amount of greenery about. Morty also couldn’t help
but notice yellow banners that hung from nearly every wall.
“Rick?” he asked. “What a-are Morty Games?”
“No idea…that wasn’t here before.”
Rick was guiding him toward a narrower hall, and Morty could see a long counter
off to the right, with several Ricks behind it. That must have been Rick’s
destination, because they were soon standing at the counter in front of a Rick
dressed in a smart charcoal colored suit. Morty peered around him and could see
a row of glass-walled offices in the back, with Mortys working at sleek wooden
desks. The Mortys were also in suits.
“Good evening, how can I help you?” the Rick in front of them asked.
Rick held out his hand for the box again. “Yeah, I need a room.” He took the
box from Morty and pulled out his card, passing it to the Rick behind the
counter.  
The Rick scanned it on a touchpad that was similar to the one the Major had.
“Well. Your account is good. Do you know you have a lot of investments that
could be cashed out as well? I could get Investment Rick for you.”
Rick shook his head. “I’ll find him later. How good is my account?”
“Very good. Cash out those investments and it would be exceptional.”
“Excellent. I want a very nice room. Huge bed. Huge bath. You get me. Oh, and a
rollaway for my Morty.”
Morty couldn’t help but give Rick a dirty look at that.
The hotel Rick tapped the screen a few times and waved Rick’s card again.
“Length of stay?”
“Indefinite.”
Tap, tap. “Very well.” He handed the card back to Rick. “Your room is 736 and
the elevators are behind you. Your card will open the door. Remember, the main
area of the Citadel is on level five. I’ll have a Morty bring your rollaway
around in a few minutes. Room service is always available. If you need
anything, call the desk.”
“Thanks.” He turned and started for the elevators. “Let’s go, Morty.”
Morty hurried to keep up, honestly stunned at Rick’s shift in attitude. It was
like a light switch he had turned on. He wanted to read Rick, but the thought
of doing it in the open like this was scary and too risky. Rick was already
stepping on the elevator when he caught up, and Morty followed him on.
When the doors closed, he looked at Rick, who was leaning against the wall.
“What the hell, Rick?”
“What the hell what?” Rick snapped, but his eyes flicked to the corner of the
elevator, up by the ceiling. “Press seven.”
Morty turned around and pushed the button. As he stepped back, he glanced up
and saw a small camera. “Y-You don’t have to be a dick, all right?” He hoped he
was playing along properly.
Rick rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “Oh no, so sorry to offend your
fucking sensibilities, Morty. Shit.” He pulled out his flask and took a long
drink.
The elevator chimed and the door slid open with no sound. “W-Whatever, Rick.”
He stepped off the elevator first, but Rick quickly outpaced him. The hallway
was opulent: white walls with ornate gold trim-work, red and gold carpet. Rick
led them down the hall and found their room. He let them in with his card and
ushered Morty in first. Morty walked in, staring at the huge room, and the door
shut hard behind him. He whirled around and saw Rick leaning against the door,
looking relieved.
“Don’t worry,” Rick closed his eyes a moment, “they don’t bug the private
areas. No Rick would put up with that shit.” He held out his hand and, when
Morty took it, pulled him into an embrace. Morty wrapped his arms around Rick’s
waist and pressed his face into Rick’s chest. “You did very, very good,” Rick
said into his hair. “And that look you gave me. Holy shit, priceless.”
“I hope I’m n-not sleeping on the rollaway bed, Rick.” Morty wanted to stand
like this forever, no running, no being shot at, no weird Rick and Morty
doppelgangers, just him and Rick.
“Not a chance in hell.” Morty smiled as Rick pressed a kiss to the top of his
head. They stood a minute, before Rick sighed. “Okay, I’m going to run some
errands and take care of my investments now, just to be safe. A Morty will
bring up the bed. Play along or be quiet if that feels safer. Do you want
anything?”
Morty thought about it. “I’m not hungry after…after all that. I can’t think of
anything else.”
“If you change your mind, call downstairs. They’ll charge my card. I recommend
the TV, though. Unbelievable cable package.” He pushed Morty back enough to
give him a quick peck on the lips. “I will be back soon.”
Nervous at the idea of being separated, Morty kissed him back, a little harder.
“When should I worry?”
“Give me forty-five minutes, at most. Then call for a guard. Don’t come look
for me yourself and don’t try your power yet.” Rick stroked his cheek. “But I
won’t need forty-five minutes, okay?”
Morty took a deep breath. “Okay. B-Be careful.”
“Always, babe.” Rick untangled from him before opening the door. “You’re too
good to me, you know?”
With that, the door shut behind him, and Morty was alone for the first time in
what felt like weeks. It was so hard to believe that only a little more than a
day had passed. One long insane day. “You’re too good to me, Rick,” he said
aloud to the room.
Morty took a tour of the room; it was a suite, really. The hall door opened
into a living room, with a large couch and two overstuffed chairs surrounding a
coffee table. He had tossed Rick’s box onto the coffee table without thought
when he came in. Up against the wall was a large flat-screen TV on a stand,
with a carved wood desk to its left. Off the living room was a short hallway,
with the bedroom to the left and the bath to the right. He peeked into the
bedroom and a giant bed took up most of the space, with another flat-screen TV
and the usual bedroom furniture finishing the room out. In the bathroom was a
deep jacuzzi tub and a stand-alone shower. There was also a stackable washer-
dryer in one corner. Morty was impressed and couldn’t help but wonder how many
schmeckles this set Rick back per night. How many does he have, anyway?
There was a faint rapping on the suite door. Morty hurried out of the bathroom
to answer it. When he swung the door opened, he was face-to-face with a copy of
himself, dressed in a suit and towing a rollaway bed. Morty opened the door all
the way and gestured for the hotel Morty to come inside.
“G-Good evening, sir. Where w-would you like the bed?”
Morty had his mental guard up – he hadn’t let it down since they had portaled
in – but looking at this other Morty, he felt a strange resonance. It was as if
they shared a connection of some kind, and it was something beyond mental and
physical similarity. He wanted to explore, but knew he would have to open
himself to do so. Maybe I’ll have another chance later, he thought.
“Uh, just over there.” He pointed to the far corner of the living room.
Hotel Morty started wheeling the bed in that direction. “Very g-good.” When he
got the bed in position, he asked, “Would you like me to o-open it for you?”
“No, t-thanks.” Morty just wanted him to go. He wanted to investigate this
sensation, but he also couldn’t stop feeling weirded out. “I’ll get it later.”
Hotel Morty nodded and walked toward the door. “Very good. If you n-need
anything, please call.”
Morty sighed with relief when his duplicate let himself out. He flopped on the
couch, sinking into the comfortable brocade cushions. He found the remote and
started flipping, quickly settling on a science fiction movie that he
remembered seeing the commercials for. There were a lot of alien channels,
which must have been what Rick was referring to. Morty propped his feet on the
coffee table and immediately kicked Rick’s box with his foot. He managed to
grab it before it hit the floor, but the lid slid off. Pulling both onto his
lap, he looked inside, curiosity getting the better of him.
The box was almost empty. The only thing inside was a flat green packet that
looked like it had the flexible circuit board of a calculator glued to it.
Morty frowned, unable to identify it, and closed the box back up. He put the
box back on the coffee table and watched his movie.
Before even a half-hour had passed, the door opened, and Rick walked in,
carrying a brown grocery sack. The door shut behind him, and he walked over to
Morty. “I see you found the TV. Not bad, right?”
“It’s good.” Morty scooted over. “Wanna sit?”
“Oh no.” Rick shook his head. “Get the channel for that show. I’m lying down.
Come on.” Morty began fumbling with the remote, and Rick carried the bag back
to the bedroom. Once he got the channel number, Morty flipped off the TV and
followed.
Rick had set the bag on the floor and pulled out a liquor bottle. He placed it
on the nightstand and tossed his flask beside it. “Turn on the TV, Morty.”
Morty found the remote on his nightstand and put the movie on, while Rick sat
on the edge of the bed and unlaced his boots. Morty did the same, kicking off
his shoes and socks, and then climbed on the bed next to Rick.
“Oh, holy shit, a flat surface,” Rick groaned, stretching out. He rested his
head on the pillows and pulled Morty close. “No more sitting.”
Morty relaxed against him, draping himself across Rick while Rick’s arms
wrapped around his back. Rick was right; after an entire day trapped in the
ship, lying down was pure contentment. “What’d you buy?” he mumbled into Rick’s
shirt.
“Mmm, booze, soap and other stuff like that, junk food, surprises…”
“Surprises?”
Morty felt Rick’s hand rub the back of his neck. “Can’t tell you. They’re
surprises.”
“I can j-just look in the bag, Rick.” He felt like he was slowly melting under
the firm pressure of Rick’s fingers.   
“Humor me, baby.”
Each point of pressure on his neck was making his spine loosen. Morty didn’t
think he could deny Rick anything right now. “Okay…” He brought his arm up so
that it draped over Rick’s shoulder. “What about y-your investments? Were they
good?”
Rick smiled up at the ceiling, feeling Morty continuously relaxing against him.
He focused on making slow circles right at the base of Morty’s skull. “The last
time I was here, I put a lot of schmeckles into a few funds that they run. They
were low-risk, high-reward, on the condition that I not withdraw the money for
a set period. I passed that period and they continued to mature. Long story
short, we have plenty of schmeckles.”
“Were you planning on coming back here?”
“No.” Rick let his other hand start rubbing Morty’s lower back. “I wanted to be
prepared, though. I try to keep caches of money in different places. Comes in
handy.”
Morty was quiet, listening to Rick’s heartbeat while he formed his question.
“How do you…how do you stand seeing other Ricks?”
Surprised, Rick almost stopped massaging, but caught himself. “Uh, I guess
you’re referring to the Morty that came to the room? And all the other Mortys
you saw.”
“Y-Yeah.”
Rick sighed and tried to think of how he initially reacted to other Ricks. He
didn’t encounter a swarm of himselves at a place like the Citadel as his first
experience. He first came across other Ricks through portaling to other
dimensions, then through resistance efforts against the GF, and sometimes he
would encounter Ricks when visiting attractions like Blips and Chitz. Even
after years of exposure, the Citadel had been a shock. “It was weird. Really
fucking weird. I didn’t get the firehose that you did, either. Anyway, it gets
easier with time, and I’ve had a lot of time. I’m not quite sure what else to
tell you.”
Morty squirmed and somehow managed to get a little closer. “When you see them,
d-do you…feel something?”
“Feel something? Like what?” Rick’s brow furrowed. He usually felt irritated.
“Like a connection? A connection that isn’t just because you’re different
versions of each other?”
“No. I guess they feel like brothers, sort of, but I don’t think that’s what
you mean.”
“N-No, it’s not.” Morty sounded dejected.
Concerned, Rick curled his fingers into Morty’s hair for a moment. “Did you use
your power around that Morty?”
“No, Rick.” He lifted his head enough to meet Rick’s eyes. “I haven’t let my
guard down the whole time we’ve been h-here. It was something different. I w-
wasn’t around him long enough to figure it out.”
“Okay.” Rick brushed Morty’s hair back with one hand. “You’ll figure it out.
I’m proud of you, you know.” 
“W-Why?”
Rick couldn’t help but laugh a little. “After all you’ve done today? Mind
blown, babe.”
Morty cast his eyes down, looking embarrassed. “A-Aw, jeez.”
Dropping his arms down, Rick rolled over with Morty in one neat motion. With
Morty lying on his back, Rick propped himself up over him. “I’d like to show
you how impressed I am…and take advantage of this bed.”
Chapter End Notes
     Hello! Thank you for reading. I hope you liked this chapter.
     I feel like we're all in this terrible R&M hiatus desert until Season
     4 comes out. Visiting Pocket Mortys like this helps!
     Give_me_a_follow_if_you_like! See you with EM in a few weeks.
End Notes
     I actually started writing this story before my The Rickest Morty
     series. I've sort of blended elements of Pocket Mortys and the show
     itself in this story. It's already pretty long, so I'm not sure how
     many chapters there will be...
     Anyway! I am starting this in honor of the real launch of Season 3.
     My plan is to alternate this story with The Rickest Morty, one every
     two weeks or so.
     Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
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