Chapter Text
The duo stared at each other, one with shocked relief and the other with hollowness. Their breaths echoed in the heavy emptiness of the cold disgusting room.
Rick swallowed, still wide eyed and very much covered in blood of various repulsing colors. "Morty." He said, the name sounding weird rolling off his tongue after months of absence.
The boy didn't answer, and Rick realized Morty was never looking at him anyway. He was gazing far away. Through the thick walls and beyond reality perhaps.
Morty's face could only show that much. He looked extremely pale and underweight, as if all he was fed to this day had only meant to keep him alive, not sustain him, and he hadn't seen the light of day for years. Though his skin color was barely recognizable through the bruises, rashes and burns.
Rick knew that he was wearing the same clothes he last saw him in. He remembered the ketchup stain they laughed about the last meal they had together. Before he lost Morty. And as worn out, dirty and torn the outfit was, it sat on him, the only thing keeping the limp body warm.
The thing that stopped Rick from just throwing Morty over his shoulder and leaving was his face. The haunted look on his expression, like he had seen things that no one had. Things that were to be kept a secret, for the sake of people's sanity. And even in the dim light, Morty's irises flashed a near white color, indicating the loss of the usual blue one.
"Grandpa Rick!"
Summer's annoyed voice startled him.
"What's taking you so long? Did you find him?"
"I, I think." Rick eyed the beaten up figure. "I'm not even sure if that's a body or a corpse, to be honest."
"What?!" She suddenly sounded alert and panicked, a few gunshots being heard from wherever she was sending signals from.
"Relax! I was just joking, sheesh." Rick assured loudly, forced. "I'll get him out- Jesus Christ."
"Is he really dead?" Summer sounded on the verge of crying.
"No! He- he's breathing and all, his chest and shit- just get the ship ready alright?" He snapped into the communicator. "This isn't the time for getting fucking emotional. How are you with distracting the bastards?"
A sniff was heard. "I got in the ship. They should be falling into the volcano… okay, done. They're dead." She sounded calmer.
"For the thousandth fucking time, it's not a goddamn volcano- oh, fuck it."
He went to drag Morty out of the dark basement, but as he touched the boy's wrist, he recoiled harshly, letting out an ear-scratching screech. "No!"
Rick jumped back, not expecting the harsh reaction. His pants were the only heard sounds in the silence.
"Rick."
The genius gritted his teeth, refusing to answer the call.
"Rick, what the hell was that?"
"Your beloved brother is beyond traumatized." He finally answered as a matter of factly.
"Is he-"
"No more teen angst Summer, the whole situation is a bit fucked up already." Rick cut her off. "I'll meet you at the gate, I have to teleport him there. Don't fuck up the coordination I gave you or we'll end up with our dicks in the engine. Got it?" He didn't wait for an answer before muting her.
"Summers, am I right?" He attempted to joke. Morty didn't reply, only staring ahead with an open mouth and terror on his face. His eyes were just so hollow. "Are you… blind?" Rick asked with shock, his eyes widening at the realization. "You're literally fucking blind. Wow." He said awkwardly.
With another glance at the face he'd been searching for, for more than four months, Rick went to his portal gun, wondering if getting the teen back home would be as the family had hoped.
Rick tried to avoid his daughter as she followed him into the garage where he had his stash of strong liquor.
"Dad, wait a second- answer me!" She tried to catch up and Rick ignored her. "What happened to Morty?" She demanded. "You said you'll bring him back, you said it'll be a piece of cake to get him back-"
"I brought him back, didn't I?" He gritted out, picking out a random drink. It didn't matter to him at that point. "I said I'll get your son back home and I did it. Leave me the fuck alone."
"But he won't talk to us!" She said angrily. "He doesn't look at us, he always looks terrified! And no one can touch him, what am I supposed to do?!"
"Why are you yelling at me?!" He snapped back. "I told you I'd just pick another random mentally stable Morty- relatively speaking. They're the same person, Beth. You wouldn't feel the difference."
"We couldn't have abandoned him!"
"Well, we didn't! There you go! The rest is on you, it's not my fucking responsibility anymore!" Rick snarled. "Have fun with a breathing corpse that's not even your original son!" He turned his back on the blonde, taking a long swig of the drink. He didn't plan on staying sober.
"Are you really that heartless?" Her voice lowered, shaking. "You're not even going to try to help him?"
"Do I look like I majored in psychology?" He deadpanned. "Even if I did, this kid is unfixable. Rip the band aid off now and just let me get rid of him. He'll thank you for that."
"He's just a kid- he's your grandson! How could you kill him?!"
"Easy. Just as he'd have killed me if he ever had to."
"Unbelievable." She hissed incredulously before storming out.
Rick let out a long sigh, grabbing a few bottles and collapsing in a corner of the garage. "While you asshats torture the poor guy by keeping him alive, I have my good friends to keep me company." He mumbled dryly to the empty room and gulped the drink down.
"Yup. No guilt. Who needs that when I have alcohol?" He let out a forced chuckle, then quieted down. "Who the fuck am I kidding?" Another gulp.
As he expected, it didn't take the family more than an hour to get tired of trying to take care of an intensified equivalent of a paralytic person. Their yells of frustration could be heard from the living room.
"Ugh, so fucking loud." He groaned with annoyance. "Maybe I'll get Morty for an adven..ture.." He trailed off, remembering the horrid state of his former partner in crime. The boy was probably lost in his broken mind while his mother was actually talking about killing him.
Rick couldn't help but shudder at the thought. Even though he was the one making the suggestion of execution, he admitted to himself that they were mostly bluffs. That Beth took it abnormally serious was greatly disturbing.
"Grandpa Rick?" Rick looked up to see his granddaughter's pitying face. He must have looked miserable. "Have you tried the gun yet? The discussion is starting to get a bit violent in there. I think it's time."
"I'll do it." Rick groaned out as he struggled to stand up, ignoring the screaming protests of his exhausted muscles. "Calm those dumbasses down. It'll work."
She nodded and left. After a moment of hesitance, he headed up to Morty's room.
The door opened with a dramatic creak. Walking in the room, Morty, tense and unresponsive, was laid down on his bed with those white open eyes.
A flood of fond memories and held back emotions crashed into Rick's mind and he cringed.
Just remembered why I didn't wanna come here.
"Let's get this shit over with." He grumbled, pulling out a memory-erasing gun. "It'll be over before you know it. It'll all be over, M-Morty. You're gonna be fine." He didn't notice his tone going soft until it embarrassingly cracked and he cleared his throat, composing himself.
He had the gun pointed at the horrified and frozen teen and was about to pull the trigger, erasing any memories of the last four months when Morty spoke evenly for the first time, startling him.
"Don't hunt me, Rick." He monotoned, sounding confused and lost as the white eyes stared at him, but not really. "I'm not a ghost."
For a moment, Rick rolled his eyes and was about to brush it off when he stilled.
Morty's mindblowers.
"Bebo, no…"
"What the fucking shit?" Rick cussed genuinely. Did the gun not work at all?
Perhaps he hadn't risked to dive deep enough into the mind and the horror stayed in Morty's subconsciousness, haunting his sleep.
Was he sleeping though?
Gritting his teeth, the scientist hurled his invention at the wall, taking delight of the shattering sound. "Fuck!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, making Morty scream once more.
Rick ran a hand down his face, falling on his knees by the edge of the bed. His face fell on the mattress. "I guess you're really dying then, Morty." He tried to sound casual, but it felt wrong.
Morty wasn't special. None of his versions were. He was replaceable. But his laugh kept echoing in Rick's mind every time he thought of killing the younger one. His lame jokes and annoying stammers. Of course no one needed those, right? But it nagged at him in a passive-aggressive manner, manipulating his intentions.
He could almost imagine the Morty in his head giving him an unimpressed glare, saying 'T-that's called missing people, you robot.'
Rick tugged on his hair, letting out frustrated noises. He dared look up, and seeing Morty's frame, his face morphed into pure determination.
"I'm gonna bring you back to fucking life, you weak bitch." He whispered, promising him.
"Uh, Rick. What's this sign on the garage door?"
"Whatever the hell it says on it. Do you know how to fucking read?" Rick spat out moodily, but it was strained. He focused his attention on the task at hand.
"Well, mom and dad were looking for Morty and- oh, that explains it." She stopped when she got through the wires and got a full view of the ongoing procedure.
"I decided to patch him up a little bit." He shrugged, speaking honestly.
"Bye taking out his eyeballs?" She didn't sound too concerned though.
"He's blind, Summer." She fell silent. "You didn't even notice it, did you? Well it doesn't matter anyway." He shrugged again. "I keep a physical clone of everyone just in case I needed the body parts. Right now, I'm replacing his eyes- not only is he blind, but the right eye is stabbed with what looks like a spoon." He said a bit awkwardly.
"How isn't he screaming right now?" Summer asked, walking slightly closer.
"Sedatives. It's not that fucking complicated." Rick went back to putting the new eye inside Morty's empty socket.
"Why fix him if you want to get rid of him later on?"
Rick pursed his lips, not turning back to face the girl. "… Maybe I'm not going to get rid of him."
"Mom's wrong." Her voice softened to an annoying degree. "You care more than any of us."
"Fuck off, I'm in the middle of a medical procedure here?" He snapped loudly, tensing. "Go get your parents on a leash- god, they should've gotten a divorce when they had the chance."
"Yeah, I love you too, grandpa Rick." Her smirk was audible in her voice.
"Smartass." He grumbled, leaning back to see his work. "Symmetric angles, no damage done to the optic nerves.. that's good." He murmured, checking the computer. "Broken and healed bones in the thorax area and... the wrist? Huh. No wonder it looks weird." He continued to talk to himself as he took the patient's vitals and gave him injections.
"Is it okay if I sit here?" He saw Summer scratch the back of her neck from the corner of his eye. "I promise I won't talk a lot."
"Nah, that's what you do." Rick said half heartedly, eyes not leaving the panel. The girl took that as a yes and sat down, watching his brother breathe with concern. "Do you know what happened to him?"
"If those guards were the same race that imprisoned him, I'll say something close to white torture."
"What's that?" She asked, failing to look nonchalant.
"Psychological torture. It works with sensory deprivation." He explained, swiftly checking the monitor to rub a healing cream on the dying skin that needed it the most. "They don't let you hear, won't let you speak, see colors. The cells are painted white. The guards are dressed fucking white. The food is bland and tasteless.. they deprive you of your senses, driving you mad." He shook his head. "Once you're broken enough, they start brainwashing you, fucking with your head. Convincing you that they have your family. That they hate and literally will leave you unless you give the captors what they want."
"Who wouldn't call their bullshit?" She snickered.
"Someone who doesn't know what bullshit even is anymore." He snarled. "Someone who just wants to hear something- anything to hang on to and anything that sounds real! Anything that saves him from the projections of his own fucking mind!"
He stilled, realizing his outburst and went back silently to the task at hand.
"Uh, that sounds a little too specific to be just general knowledge." Summer broke the silence awkwardly and with hesitance.
Rick stopped in his tracks. "Yep. Thankfully someone broke me out before it got to the worst parts. I'm not sure how bad it got for Morty. That's why I wanna bring him out of shock."
"Would he be functional?" Summer sounded nervous.
"If you mean his body, I'm almost done. I fixed him up good as new. Maybe the bones and skin will take some more time to heal right." He answered easily. "His brain, though? I doubt it. But this is worse, trust me."
"What did Morty have that they wanted so bad?" The question Rick was trying to avoid thinking about all day.
"Me." He intoned. "They thought he knew about my plans and blueprints."
"Shit."
Rick mentally agreed. "Anyway, the drugs should be wearing off." He stretched, changing the subject. "Nothing wakes you up better than a taste of electricity, baby!" He whooped, picking up the defibrillator and readying it. Inside, he felt rather uncomfortable.
But he brushed it off and stuck the metallic surfaces on Morty's chest.
Surprise, surprise. Morty screamed.