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Everyone thought of Rick Sanchez as God-like. Or they thought that he was actually a God in human form. Except, Rick himself was feeling anything but like a God in this particular moment.
He’d just let his last, now-sentient memory of his dead wife drift off into space with his best friend’s sentient memory of himself. Nobody but (possibly) a God could do such things (or maybe a crazy mad-genius scientist).
He sat in the spaceship, staring out into the vast emptiness of space, trying to remember his dead wife’s face.
Di— wait .
Anne— something .
Bug-Anne—? (NO! That was his (ex?) girlfriend’s name!)
He’d tried texting her just then, a simple ‘Hey’, because no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it, the last thing he wanted was to be alone right now. He’d been alone for so long he’d forgotten what not being alone felt like. He missed being Rick + 1.
Now he was Rick -1 and he felt like a 0. He wanted to go to a bar and get wasted and forget about everything that had happened that day—from Beth’s meltdown (holding a gun to her head) to almost losing Space Beth completely—he really needed a drink….but it was more than that….he needed something nobody could give him:
Her.
He started to drive, but his hands were shaking and he had to stop, putting the car in floating standstill once more. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so weak as he did just then, but he couldn’t stop himself from dialing her number.
It was late on her planet—probably 3 am in Earth time terms—but he didn’t care. He wanted to hear her voice. Anyone’s voice. Someone that wasn’t in his replacement family. Bug-Anne wasn’t like others he’d been with—she got it. She knew. (He didn’t want to know how she knew, but she did.) That alone was enough to give him second thoughts, but right now, when he was feeling vulnerable, she was the first one that came to his mind.
“Rick—” Her tone was taught, almost sharp, cutting through him like a knife, twisting his gut. “--this isn’t working—”
“I-I know I fucked up—” His voice betrayed him. “--What do you want me to say? I’m—” he grit his teeth, “I’m not good at relationships, okay? I-I-I’m sorry , Bug-Anne! Does that help—?” he blurted, feeling like a fool (because since when did he care about anyone else’s approval?)
“No, Rick.” Her tone was farther away than the farthest galaxies. “It doesn’t help. You embarrassed me in front of my parents—” Her voice faltered slightly and he grimaced, pained, “---my—entire family! Everyone —”
“I know !” he interjected, completely fed up and silently cursing himself, “I-I was an idiot , okay? I-I shouldn’t have bailed like that and—”
“It’s more than that Rick.” She sounded ashamed and he bit his lip until it bled, “You—you’re so closed off and—I don’t know how to reach you—”
“I know—” he slumped into the back of the seat feeling strangely defeated and hating it. “Look—I’ve had a shit day,” he confessed, “a-and I really want to drink myself into fucking oblivion right now but—guess what? I didn’t do it.” He waited for her to call him a weak and pathetic shithead, but when she didn’t, he added flatly, “I called you .”
“....”
“I can’t remember her name.” He swallowed back the bile in his throat as he tried to picture his wife’s face and couldn’t. “I can’t remember her face—” He choked back a sob as he leaned his forehead against the wheel. “...I can’t remember the sound of her voice when she said my name—”
“---Rick—” she stopped him abruptly. “Where are you right now?”
“In the space cruiser—” his voice hitched. “---in the middle of nowhere—”
“Please come to my house, Rick.” She spoke softer then, more familiar and like the one he knew—and he felt his voice caught in his throat, releasing a silent sigh of relief he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Right now,” she told him, calmly but urgently, “and we’ll talk….okay?”
“...Okay.” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve (she didn’t need to know).
“...Rick…”
“Yeah….” He was holding onto the phone for dear life.
“...Drive safely.”
She hung up and finally he felt like he could breathe. He set the coordinates and put the ship on autopilot, letting his head rest back against the seat as the ship took a now familiar route through the cosmos.
He couldn’t go back just yet….but at least where he was going, someone was waiting for him, and they hadn’t forgotten his name.