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”I’m not an unreasonable man Beth Smith, I know children are everything to a mammal. I will spare one of their lives.”
Morty is watching the scene with wide eyes, screams strangled by the vines that wrap over his mouth. He’s turning to look between his sister and his mother, bound and trapped in the same manner as him, only his mother’s mouth is free, and she is silent. Morty wishes Rick would just show up and rescue them already, but he probably didn't even realize they were missing. The large and looming alien was trying to bargain with Morty’s mom, and every passing moment made Morty more anxious, limbs shaking beneath their restraints.
”You simply have to…” the alien emphasizes his next word with a careful and slow pronunciation, “…choose.”
”Summer!” Silence echoes through the thick air, and in his peripheral vision Morty sees his sister look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Morty’s heart is pounding in his chest. Did he hear that right? The moment of silence is interrupted by a quieter affirmation. “…Summer.”
His mother just killed him. Morty was going to die, and he was going to die knowing that his mother loved Summer more than him, so much so that she was ready to watch her son die without even a moment of hesitation.
Tears brimmed in Morty’s eyes, his heart pounding. His limbs would be shaking if they weren’t bound so tightly, and his chest is constricted, rendering him unable to breathe with the vine bounding his mouth and the anxiety that aided in the strangling. Time crawled by so slowly, Morty wished the alien would just get it over with and shoot him already, but looking across the empty land, the alien seemed just as shocked as the rest of them. The sound of a portal opening made Morty jolt.
“You’re not gonna believe this! I went to Phoebe instead of Titan!” Rick drops down from the portal, and Morty’s tears finally escape to cascade down his cheeks. He thrashes against his restraints, begging to be released. Rick came to rescue them. But Morty was still trapped; he just wanted to go home. “It’s like, hello Saturn, after ten moons it's time to start naming and start numbering.” Rick turns around to look at Morty and Summer, tension coursing through the air like a river of lava, thick and burning. “Wh-What’s with you assholes?” Rick belches.
Rick shoots the alien that had them held captive, and the vines unravel immediately, setting the family free. Rick makes some joke about the alien’s awful plan, and they retreat through the portal, Rick’s hand guiding Morty through with a hand on his back. The touch burns, guilt consuming Morty completely. He doesn’t deserve this. He pushes away from the touch, and observes Rick’s confused eyebrow raise.
Morty immediately runs up the stairs to his room as Rick turns to the garage, and Summer and his mother head into the kitchen. The walls of the house are pretty thin, and it’s fairly easy to hear everything that goes on, which gets really inconvenient in the evening when Summer sneaks out or when Morty is having some alone time. To summarize, Morty hears every word from downstairs.
”What the fuck, Mom!” He hears Summer’s annoyed voice, something that always sets Morty on edge. Everyone in the family was pretty scary when angry.
”I-It’s not a big deal, Summer.” He hears the clinking of glass accompanying his mother’s voice, and she’s likely filling up a wine glass to the brim.
“Fuck yes its a big deal! You almost killed Morty! Your son? Remember?”
”I- I didn’t kill him. The- The alien would’ve.”
”Does it fucking matter? I’m the accident. You’re supposed to want Morty around.” Morty sighed. He wished Summer could see her value to the family, he always felt bad when the topic of abortion was brought up.
” I didn’t want Morty! I was drunk, I got pregnant, I wanted to keep my marriage together!”
Morty sat in shock, staring at his wall blinking rapidly. There was no way. Morty was just as much of an accident as Summer, except he was a repeated mistake. He was the product of a dysfunctional family that thought alcohol and drugs and misery could solve all their problems. Big surprise, it only caused more.
“Get help, Mom! Or you’re going to tear this family apart.”
”It’s none of your business Summer. I love you and Morty- I love you both the same.”
”Just as much as you love wine, and as much as you love lying! Fuck you.”
Morty hears footsteps retreating, and then clambering up the stairs. The noise stops outside of his door, a hesitation before knocking.
”Morty?”
He rolls over, ignoring his sister.
”Morty, I know you’re mad… I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t Summer’s fault, Morty knew that. He wanted to tell her that, but he wanted to blame her more. He wanted to blame her for being the favorite child, he wanted to blame his whole family for letting him exist. He wanted to blame himself for not dying on adventures with Rick. He wanted to blame Rick for not replacing him sooner.
”I love you, bro. Or whatever. I know we don't say that shit but, I will now.”
The sentiment made Morty’s heart clench, and he almost said it back, but his throat was dry and opening his mouth made him nearly sob. He listened as Summer’s footsteps quieted, and a door closed down the hall. Morty didn’t feel like showering, he didn’t feel like changing, so he just laid in his bed and waited. He waited for the tears to turn into strangled sobs, muffled by his pillow, scared of alerting his family of his misery…not that they care enough to do anything about it. They never did.
Unfortunately, sleep was not going to come easy for him tonight. Of course, his family would never learn how to shut up, all of them tended to ramble on until they dug their own graves. Morty hears something he hears often, but almost more extreme. It’s Rick shouting some angry nonsense. The difference is that this time he sounds really angry; not as a bit or off of something stupid, but really, truly angry. This makes Morty zone in, taking his face out of his pillow and drying his tears to fully focus on the downstairs argument.
”What the fuck happened back there, Beth? The-the kids looked miserable.” He belched, his voice an uncommon stern tone.
“N-Nothing, Dad.”
”There are l-like forty wine bottles in here. What the fuck happened?” Rick is barely stuttering, and this makes Morty even more intimidated than he usually was by the old man. “Don’t make me scan your brain, Beth.”
”T-The alien guy told me to choose- to choose between Morty and Summer…” Beth trailed off.
”And you chose Summer,” Rick finished.
In the silence, Morty could only assume his mother simply nodded, or maybe looked down in shame. He really hoped for the latter. The darkness in his room accompanied by the silence leaves a sickening feeling of despair, and Morty’s chest still aches the way it did when he was bound to the red wall of stone, vines binding him tight. Morty is focusing on the feeling in his bones, tensing his muscles to avoid the cascade of tears. He had been through worse, he had killed people, and he was upset about this? This wasn’t even his real family, maybe his real mother wanted him. Morty doubted it; the two universes were almost exactly identical, according to Rick. Morty is so absorbed in his own thoughts that he barely hears the swirling sound of a portal opening, the green light cascading across his room. Morty turns to take in the illuminated face of his grandfather, the light fading quickly as the portal disappears.
”G-Geez Rick, y-you know you can knock.” Morty murmurs, wiping his eyes before Rick can make fun of him for his sensitivity.
“Morty…” Rick is unusually calm, and that scares Morty more than when Rick is angry. Morty doesn't reply. It doesn't look like Rick knows what to say, either. His eyes are simply staring at Morty, eyebrow furrowed. He looks old; tired. Morty has never seen Rick like this, the limited light from the moon pouring in and accentuating his wrinkles. In a flash of confidence, the old man sits on the bed next to his grandson, who reluctantly sits up from his previous position, crossing his legs in front of himself and holding the blanket between his hands. Morty looks at his lap, unwilling to meet his grandpa’s eyes.
”Morty,” Rick repeats. “I…”
”It’s fine, R-Rick. D-Don’t bother.”
”No, N-No Morty. Y-you don’t gotta deal with- with this shit.”
Morty meets Rick’s eyes. “What do you care?”
”’Cause…” Rick clears his throat. “Cause you’re better than what- than what your stupid mom thinks.”
Morty can’t help it, but he chokes on his next breath, anxiety and anger resurfacing. “Sh-She doesn’t w-want me, Rick.” Morty’s hands are on his face, rubbing furiously at his eyes, before moving to rapidly slam into his head. He can’t stop, and it hurts but he’s crying and he’s hitting himself and he’s miserable and he just wishes he could forget.
Suddenly, there’s large, cold hands wrapping around Morty’s own, pulling his hands away from his face, Morty’s eyes red, swollen, and wide. “Fuck her, kid. I want yo-you around, y’know. You’re a cool kid.”
Morty laughs. Rick always knows how to cheer him up with a clever joke, and even though this one twists his gut a little with the sarcastic implications, he can't help but giggle. He wipes a tear away, his voice trembling between laughter and sobs. “T-That’s a good one, Rick.”
Rick places two firm hands on Morty’s shoulders. “I’m only gonna say this once, Morty. It’s not a joke, I’m not joking.”
Morty is silent, unblinking as he and Rick stare at each other. As if he’s been possessed, Morty lunges forward, holding onto the folds of Rick’s lab coat as he sobs into his grandfather’s chest. He’s mumbling between sobs, he’s useless and stupid and unwanted and a mistake and he just wants to forget, please please please. He’s begging into his grandfather’s shirt, certainly covered in Morty’s snot, which he feels guilty for, which makes him cry harder. There’s a firm hand on his back, tracing circles. Morty’s eyes feel heavy, sobs quieting as he feels the exhaustion of his sadness take over.
“Shh. It’s gonna be okay, bud…”
Morty takes a deep breath, the smell of alien alcohol, an old musk, and grimy oil invading his nostrils in a strangely comforting manner. Morty was confused about his grandfather’s new demeanor, but he would take advantage of it now. Rick shifts Morty to lay down in his bed, placing the blanket over his grandson.
Morty’s eyes are flickering shut, and a hand combs through his hair. The mattress rises up as a weight leaves it, and Morty hears the rustling of fabric, a subtle blue light sneaking past his nearly closed eyelids before he hears one final sound.
“…I love ya, Morty. I’m sorry you were born into this family…”
The blue light brightens, and Morty’s eyes shut, an innocent smile creeping back onto his face as he dozed off. Everything would be normal in the morning.