You allowed him to string you along to his garage. His momentum was the only thing making you walk; had he let go of your hand, you’d have stood idle and probably crumpled against the nearest chair. He pressed a button and a flat table rose out of the garage floor. He let go of you to strip to his slacks and lay back on the surface, exposing the panel in his chest. 

You dragged your feet over to his side. It was way too early for any kind of hard thinking. 

“Here’s the deal—” he started. 

“Don’t you have some protocol or mini robots to sort through this mess?” You raised an eyebrow at the tangled cords in his chest cavity. “Wait, back up. Why do you have this in the first place? Where are your organs?”

“All very good questions, sweetheart. Love– love your curiosity. Not my concern though. If you don’t untangle this, I’m gonna explode.” He said calmly.

The declaration was like a bucket of cold water to your face. “What?!” 

“In…” A screen was projected from his wrist with a big, red countdown. “Three minutes.”

“Holy shit,” you whispered, not feeling the slightest bit tired anymore. You dove into the panel and threaded your fingers through the mess of wires, pulling them free as fast as possible. “You’re the worst.”

“You know, I don’t believe you anymore,” he grinned, folding his arms behind his head, as if you were lathering him up with sunscreen on a casual beach day.

“Believe it,” you mumbled. You yanked one cable especially hard, causing Rick to wince and lose his nonchalant demeanor. 

“You really need your sleep, huh?” He met your glare with a smile. “You’re doing so good, baby, look– look at those hands go, huh? Got some experience with those? What you’re used to s’probably sooo, so much bigger than these wires, am I right?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to focus,” your eyes flickered to the countdown. One minute left. You sucked in a breath. “Please, please, please—” you begged the last chunk of wires to be agreeable with your detangling. 

“Begging, now? You must like me or something,” he teased. 

Your face grew hot. He just loved holding that blatant confession over your head—barely went a day without mentioning it. 

“Oh– oh, we’re getting down to it. Oh, here we go, ten seconds left— oh, I really hope I don’t blow up, that— that would seriously suck—”

Your fingers flew through the last of the wires and detangled them fully before the clock hit zero. Simulated cheers and digital fireworks went off all around you but you were in no mood to enjoy them. “You’re okay now, right? You’re not gonna blow up?”

“Never was,” Rick groaned and stretched, sitting up and closing the chest panel. “They were itching and I didn’t want to sort it out, so.” He kissed your cheek. “You did good, though, tha– thank you sweetie.”

You stared at him as he pulled up scans on his computer to ensure all systems were still functional. Before you could yell at him, Morty stepped into the garage. You both spun to see him in his PJs, a set that you were fairly certain matched with his sister. Morty’s expectant eyes bounced between you and Rick, his expression falling every time he looked at you. 

“What?” Rick asked hastily. Morty’s frown deepened at his tone.  

“N– Nothing, I guess. Since you’re already occu– occupied.” Morty glared at the floor, leaving the way he came just as fast as he arrived. The house creaked as he stomped his way up the stairs back into his room, slamming the door shut. 

“Morty’s pissed off, Beth’s passive aggressive, Jerry’s… Jerry. Summer is the only one who doesn’t give a shit. The whole house is basically against me,” you said defeatedly. You sat on Rick’s workbench as he scrolled through his digital files. “I… I think I should move out.”

“Nope.” He said without raising his head. 

“They’re clearly uncomfortable with me being here, and being around you. I can hold my own, -ish… kinda. Your tech will do the heavy lifting anyway.” 

“I don’t care.”

“You should care. They’re your family.”

Rick slammed his fist on the table. “S– So– So, what? I get something good going for myself and because they feel put out, I have to give up to make them feel better? Fuck that.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Your brows knitted. “Just… Did you see his little face? He always looks like that these days. He’s just a baby.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “He’s fourteen.”

“He’s lonely, and he needs attention. I feel… I dunno, maternal about him, okay? He’s been nice to me and stood up to his parents on my behalf a few times. His own parents, Rick. I don’t wanna be the reason he feels sad.” You pouted, kicking your feet absently. 

“Fine, fine, fine,” Rick sighed, logging out of his computer and pushing his chair away from the workbench to look up at you. “We’ll a–uuurp—ll go on an adventure to– together.”

You threw your hands up. “You’re not hearing me. The whole point is for you to spend time with him, like you used to. You know, Rick and Morty, hundred years forever and ever.”

He huffed. “That’s not changing but nei–uuurp—ther is this,” he gestured between the two of you. Your spirits lifted at the sweet assertation. “He needs to get used to you, ‘cause you’re not going anywhere. They all need to get used to you, get– get their shit together.”

You turned the scenario over in your mind, every outcome coming out negative. “He’s just going to be agitated.”

“When he sees that you’re not Morty and he’s not you, he’ll come around. The kid really likes you, honey, don’t stress about it.” Rick stood and cupped your chin, tilting it up to kiss the anxiety out of you. He was always so good at that. “And don’t bring up that moving out shit again.”

[ ]

“Y– You sure you really need me here, Rick?” Morty’s arms were crossed and he sank far into the passenger seat. 

“Shut up, Morty, this is the fifth time you’ve asked that,” Rick took his eyes off the windshield to glare at his grandson. 

“Whatever,” Morty muttered, turning to the far window stubbornly. You and Rick exchanged a look through the rearview mirror. 

“If you’re gonna be a brat, we can go back home right now,” Rick threatened. “An– An– And you’ll be lucky to get the chance to… to scrape gum off the garage floor.”

“Oh, sure, Rick,” Morty said sarcastically. “You know, there’s nothing more I wanna do than clean gum off the floor. ‘Cause– ‘Cause that’s what I am, r– right? A gum cleaner?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rick’s aggravation came through his tone loud and clear, serving to activate more of Morty’s anger. 

He waved his hands around, gesturing to the three of you. “I– I’m talking about this! We– We– This was supposed to be our trip, just cruising around in space, you know… cruising around as Rick and Morty! But it’s not Rick and Morty, it’s Rick, her, and then Morty! Why am I even here?!” 

“Morty, relax,” You shifted to the edge of your seat to hold onto his shoulder sympathetically. 

He blinked and slumped back down. “L– Let’s just get this dumb adventure over with.”

A bug slapped against the windshield, startling all three of you. Rick tried to wipe it off the glass, but instead smeared its multicolored exterior all over it. Morty recoiled in disgust. 

“Guess I’m out of wiper fluid.” Rick surveyed the nearby planets. “One of these has to have some.”

He brought the ship down to the nearest planet, parking the car in the middle of a strip of wooden buildings, like a frontier settlement in the old days. The ship sent a plume of dust from the dirt road below. When it settled, a local approached the car.

Rick rolled down his window. “Hey, muchacho, does your planet have wiper fluid yet, or are you gonna freak out and start worshipping us?”

The guy looked fairly old. He was some sort of hybrid with fur for skin and puppy ears sticking out of his head. “The general store ought to have what you need.”

“Thanks.” Rick’s eyes searched the line of buildings for the general store while winding up the window. 

“Of course, you’ll be wanting to be gone from here by sundown.”

“Yeah, sure thing. Wait a minute. What? Why?” Rick’s full interest returned to the local. You craned your neck around Rick’s seat to get a better look at the guy as he explained about a festival that was going to happen that same night. He was smiling as he recounted the history of this festival, but an impending sense of doom started to set in.

“For millennia, our society has been free of crime and war, living in perfect peace—”

“Oh, oh, I know what this is! You’ve been able to sustain world peace because you have one night a year where you all run around robbing and murdering each other without consequence!” Rick cut in giddily. You and Morty sent an incredulous look his way. 

“That’s right.” The local chirped happily. 

“What?!” Morty exclaimed, the fear in his voice evident. 

“It’s like ‘The Purge,’ Morty. That movie, ‘The Purge?’” Rick explained. “You know, sometimes it’s called The Cleansing or The Red Time. There was this one world that called it just Murder Night. I– It’s a purge planet. They’re peaceful, and then, you know. They just purge.”

“Th– That’s horrible!” Morty reached over Rick to force the window all the way up. His fearful gaze swept their surroundings, every person passing by potentially a murderer. You were more concerned with the fleeting sunlight.

“Yeah.” Rick relented, but you knew his thoughts were on fire. “...You want to check it out?”

You and Morty sighed. You both knew it was coming.

You tried to stay out of their bickering to make it seem like this adventure was a Rick and Morty thing, not a Rick, ‘her’, and Morty thing, as Morty had so eloquently described it. Over the next hour, Rick replaced his wiper fluid and parked the car among the clouds to get a front row seat to the purging, much to Morty’s distaste. He argued that it was morally wrong and a horrible thing to get enjoyment from, but of course Rick didn’t really care. 

Morty gained the upper hand when he caught feelings for a helpless girl being cornered below, threatening to tell Beth about where Rick had brought him if he didn’t help her out. Rick reluctantly landed the ship to save the girl, ushering her into the ship for safety. Morty gave up the passenger seat to her, squishing into the backseat beside you. 

He tried to engage in conversation with Arthricia. You couldn’t take the second hand embarrassment anymore and leaned over the driver’s seat to have a hushed conversation. “I’m bored.”

“Makes two of us, sweetie.” Rick flipped open a handheld console, playing some generic video game. 

“Told you you should’ve left me home.”

“And force myself to listen to Morty’s version of flirting? No chance.”

“My nana!” Arthricia shrieked, shocking everyone out of the sense of safety that had settled inside the ship. All eyes looked over at her. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You just remembered your nana?”

“Shut up, she’s– she’s probably traumatized!” Morty turned on you, glaring venomously. 

You held your hands up in surrender, feeling a twinge in your heart at his quick outburst. Rick crossed his arms. “Holy shit, get over yourself, Morty. Ho– How are you talking to her like this?”

“Well, excuuuse me if I– if– if I don’t take you guys seriously! You– You don’t care about anyone else but yourselves! Somebody has to be the good guy here and– and it’s gonna be me!” Morty shoved Rick to the steering wheel. “Go, go, go!” 

Rick flew the ship to Arthricia’s nana’s house. “I don’t mean to– I don’t wanna get Morty’s balls in a twist, but haven’t you been through, like– I dunno, fifteen purges already? Wouldn’t nana become routine by this point?”

“I– Can you just help me save her?!” Arthricia pleaded desperately. 

“Fine, whatever.” Rick and Arthricia got out of the car, running over to the house to find her nana. Morty leaned over the center console in anticipation, laser focused on the house. 

“Morty, are you okay?” You took the opportunity to speak up and get to the root of the problem. 

Morty didn’t respond but his frown deepened. 

You continued against your better judgement. “I’m sorry if I’m ‘occupying’ your grandpa too much. I like you guys as much as I like him, and it’s never my intention to take him from you or from the family. You know that, right? ”

“Well, you are, s– so.” Morty snapped.

You didn’t know how to explain. You weren’t going to apologize for liking Rick, or him liking you—you’d gone through so much to get to this point, and you liked where you were. But you knew from the moment you stepped foot in the Smith household that everyone fiended for Rick’s approval and attention. It probably united them to have a common ‘enemy’—someone who’s not even family that captured the full intensity of Rick’s affection before any of them did. 

You pulled him back and held his shoulders firmly. He blinked up at you. “Morty, be so for real. Everyone knows it’s Rick and Morty. Your mom knows it, your dad knows it, your sister knows it. You see how they kinda get jealous of the relationship you have with Rick; Summer split time because of it. Because he came back to the family for you—because you’re his first adventure buddy before anyone else is, okay?”

“Not anymore.” Morty’s shoulders drooped, but he didn’t push you away. Progress.

You sighed. “Morty… Rick and I are getting used to each other. I’m new to him, he’s new to me. I saw you with Jessica—you were gonna allow Rick to rot in his Tiny Rick body if it meant getting closer to her.”

Morty’s face turned red. “Wh– What? Wh– What does that have to do with anything?” 

“I mean that you were gonna brush off your own family to get a chance with Jessica. You don’t think Rick would do the same, too? Not saying it’s right, but… The novelty of me will fade and it’ll go back to business as usual, I promise.”

Morty shook his head and pulled back from you. “It– it’s whatever.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “It’s not whatever. This is the most upset I’ve seen you the entire time I’ve been here.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, o– okay?!”  

You didn’t have the time to feel hurt—gunshots went off in nana’s house. Arthricia ran out with Rick’s gun. Morty’s breathing picked up beside you, eyes widening when Arthricia pointed the gun at the two of you.  

“Oh, crap, oh man! D– D– D- Did she just kill Rick?!” Morty whined. You climbed into the driver’s seat and locked the doors just as Arthricia pulled on the handle. She grunted in frustration and stepped back, aiming the gun again at your head. 

“Get out!” She yelled. “Get out now, or I’ll shoot you!” 

“Can’t hear you through the glass, bitch,” you ignored her, pressing some buttons on the dashboard. “Ship, can you purge this backstabbing piece of shit?”

“Affirmative,” the ship chirped. A machine gun emerged from the trunk, leering over the glass dome and pointing its barrel at Arthricia. Her grip on the gun slackened and fear flashed across her face. Morty screamed in protest, pulling on your arm urgently. 

“No, no, no you– you can’t kill her! No purging!”

“Morty, she’s gonna steal the ship and leave us behind, and then we’ll be the ones being purged.” You pushed him into the passenger’s seat. “She shot Rick! Let’s just get rid of her, grab Rick, and head home.”

“We– we’re the good guys, we’re better than them! Just– Would you put the giant gun away!” Morty wrestled with you for the controls. In the midst of all his interference, the machine gun retreated into the trunk but the doors also popped open in complete surrender. 

His eyes shot up at your deadpan expression sheepishly. 

“Get out of the flying machine!” Arthricia jabbed the gun into your arm. You and Morty tumbled out of the car, backing up slowly. She climbed inside and locked the doors, booting up the engine. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Y– You can’t leave us here! You’re killing us! You hear me? Come back!” Morty yelled to no avail as Arthricia clumsily piloted the ship towards the town. “Oh, man. We’re gonna get purged, aren’t we?”  

You rolled your eyes and hustled back to ‘nana’s’ house. Morty followed behind. “Rick!” He screamed upon seeing Rick bleeding out on the ground. You knelt at his side and pulled him to sit up, assessing the state of his wound—a clean shot through his liver. 

“Fucking Amish bitch shot me! She tried to purge me, Morty. You let your wiener do the walking, and now I’m dead, Morty!” He snarled, blood leaking from the shot wound in his abdomen. 

“Rick, she, uh…” Morty glanced at you guiltily. “She took the car.”

“You fucking kidding me, Morty?! She took my car and the gun—we’re like the rest of these assholes now. W– W– We’re gonna get purged, Morty.”

“That’s what I told him,” you muttered under your breath. You helped Rick up to his feet, acting as a crutch to get him out of the burning house. “I think I remember that healing juice you made me. Morty, you need to make it, okay?”

“Me? I don’t– No, you should do it, you’re the one that remembers!” Morty protested, jogging to catch up to you two. 

“I’m sorry but you’re useless with a gun, and Rick is bleeding out. I’ll tell you what to do.” You said firmly. 

“Uh– Why don’t we just use Rick’s portal gun?” 

“It’s in the car, dip-ass. Fuck, it hurts.” Rick whined and leaned into your shoulder. “It hurts so much. She got me right in the fucking liver. It’s the hardest-working liver in the galaxy, Morty, and now it has a hole in it. I hope she was worth it.”

“I was just trying to do right.” Morty pouted. 

“Yeah, well, that’s not really the theme of tonight’s party.” Rick nodded ahead of you where a crowd of bloodcrazed locals were approaching with stakes and clubs. “Heads up.”

“Take him, Morty.” You passed Rick over to Morty, stepping in front of the two of them. You hadn’t fought since the Citadel, but you trusted your instincts enough to brute force your way through this. 

“Wait! You’re gonna get purged!” Morty said frantically, looking up at Rick. “Help her, Rick!”

“I wanna, but somebody’s little sidequest got me shot in the liver. Should– Should I rub my liver hole on them, Morty? That’ll show them, won’t it?” Rick pulled you back by your shoulder. “And you, do you have a death wish or something? Let me—”

One murderer charged at you. Morty screamed and cowered behind you, dragging Rick back down with him, immune to Rick’s instructions. Your fight or flight kicked in, grabbing the man’s wrist to stop his swing and kicking him in the chest. He toppled back and left his sword in your hands. You used the blade to slice his limbs off before finally decapitating him. His blood splattered over you, and when his twitching finally stopped, you pulled back. 

“Damn.” Rick whistled behind you.

“Look at that, I still got it,” you smiled to yourself, flipping the bloodied sword between your hands. Leftover adrenaline pulsed through your body.

“Still?” Rick’s eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah,” you said.

“Wh- What’s that supposed to mean? Who’d you ‘get?’”

“You,” you answered. “A version of you, at the Citadel.”

The wheels turned behind Rick’s eyes. All he said was, “Nice,” with a dumb smile on his face. 

The four other murderers hesitated but probably found strength in numbers, rushing at you at once. When you ran at them with equal determination, their trajectory slowed, and you used their moment of hesitation to drive the sword clean through two of them, twisting and leaving them to bleed out. The other two switched up their tune and turned on their heel, running back the way they came.

“Okay, let’s find somewhere to hunker down.” You waved Morty through the pile of bodies. Morty whimpered as he slid through the blood, foot tapping one of the dismembered limbs. You flashed him an awkward smile. “You’re… you’re okay, honey, come on.”

“I hate this planet,” he cried, earning an annoyed sigh from Rick. 

You boarded the new house you found with any heavy crates and boards you could find. All the while, you were listing the ingredients and steps for Rick’s healing juice. 

“W– Wait, go back– What was the last step?” Morty asked hurriedly. 

“For fuck’s sake, just let me,” Rick groaned, painfully picking himself off the ground. 

“You shut up and call Summer to get whatever ‘game-changer’ you said we needed.” You glared at him, your stress levels rising to an all time high. You hoped Morty realized that though you were Rick’s girl, the last thing you wanted was to go on every single adventure Rick decided to entertain himself with. 

Rick cursed and pulled out a traditional phone, dialing Summer and immediately finding himself in an argument with Jerry. Once the house was purge-proofed to your satisfaction, you approached Morty’s table and assessed his progress. “This is good. Put that entire thing in the vial and you’re done.”

“O– Okay,” Morty snatched the ingredient you pointed to and dumped it into the serum. It hissed and sizzled. “Okay, I did it!”

“Good job, Morty,” you ruffled his head and finally, finally got a smile out of him. You grabbed the serum and knelt beside Rick, lifting his shirt and pouring the serum onto his wound. He choked and cursed when it set in, but like your leg, his skin was good as new within the minute.

He coughed and peeked at you through his pained expression. “Bet you’re— shit, bet you’re enjoying this, huh?”

“So much,” you confirmed, pulling him up. The three of you headed to a nearby lighthouse to set up a beacon for the package Summer was supposed to send Rick. The way there seemed clear as far as you could see—most of the people were lifeless on the ground, blood and weapons scattered throughout the meadow. 

“Just remember, if there’s people in there and they try to purge us, we gotta purge them first.” Rick said, eyeing Morty sternly. 

Morty narrowed his eyes up at Rick. “We’re not purging anyone, Rick, all right? W– Will you stop suggesting it?”

“Morty, if we’re gonna survive tonight, you’re gonna need to harness your repressed rage.”

“I don’t have any!” Morty insisted, earning a look from both you and Rick. 

“Spoken like a person with repressed rage,” Rick mumbled. 

You rang the lighthouse’s doorbell when you stepped onto the porch. An older local opened the door, thinly-framed glasses perched upon his nose. His eyes darted between you three. He sighed. 

“I take no part in the festival,” he said. “If you desire to kill me, I only ask you do it quickly.”

“We’re not too keen on the purge, either, sir. We were just hoping to get on the roof of your lighthouse so we can send a beacon to my sister on earth. It’s a different planet tha– that we need to get back to.”

The lighthouse keeper hummed in thought. It didn’t take very long. “I’ll let you use my lighthouse for shelter and beacon-sending… on the condition that you listen to my tale.” 

“Your…?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

Rick pushed past you, Morty, and the keeper, jabbing a thumb upstairs. “Deal. I’m gonna go to the roof and set things up. You guys listen to his tale.” 

You and Morty exchanged a look and sat with the keeper to hear this big tale of his. He brought out a giant stack of paper that was loosely bound, and started reading off a screenplay. You got comfortable on the couch and tried not to doze off. The keeper wasn’t as concerned with you as he was with Morty, whose expression he checked every five minutes. 

“Fade out. Title: ‘the end’... question mark?" The keeper flipped the last page and looked up expectantly.

“Wow.” Morty said blankly. He cleared his throat and eyed you out of the corner of his eye with a clear cry for help. “It’s... G– Good job… Yeah. Good job.”

“You didn’t laugh at the scene in the bar.”

“I… thought it was funny, but I wanted to hear the rest.”

“Do you have any thoughts? Notes?”

“No. I— I just enjoyed it. That’s my note— you know? Please– uh, please write more.” Morty flashed a big smile. 

The keeper was silent for a moment, studying Morty’s expression. “Hm. Seems a little insincere.” 

Even you were getting annoyed. With a sigh, you stood to your feet and crossed your arms. Morty scrambled to follow. “Okay, we listened to your tale. We’re gonna check on our beacon now.”

“Oh, you misunderstand me, miss! I was only trying to get the boy’s true thoughts. I want to improve my writing, you see.” The keeper stood, hugging his manuscript to his chest. 

You were about to push back again when Morty obliged his request. “All right. Well, um… I’m not a huge fan, personally, of the whole ‘three weeks earlier’ teaser thing. I feel like, you know, we should start our stories where they begin, not start them where they get interesting—”

“Get out.” The keeper’s tone flipped completely. He threw his script onto his chair and pointed at the door.

“What?” You and Morty said simultaneously. 

“I’m sick of this. You bang on my door, you beg me to help you, I share something personal with you, and you take a giant shit on it.”

Your bewilderment was painful to bear. “You just said—”

“Hey! Nobody asked you to speak, lady. You’re not even in my target audience.” The keeper interrupted, completely consumed by his offense. 

“Woah– uh, you can’t talk to her like that! Or– or me! We’re guests here!” Morty yelled, marching away from the keeper up the stairs. The keeper was hot on his tail, barking insults at him. You quickly followed behind them both, sensing tensions rising. 

“You’re not guests here anymore! I want you out!” The keeper shouted once you reached the top of the lighthouse. Rick spun around, clearly not expecting a fight to unfold with a local that seemed far removed from the planet’s purging traditions. “Take that thing down. Your grandson and this lady are shitty people. Leave now.”

“What did you do?” Rick narrowed his eyes at Morty. 

“I didn’t do anything! I listened to his entire screenplay—  tell– you tell him!” Morty spun to you for support. 

“It’s true. We both sat through it.” You confirmed. You peered over the local’s head and beyond Rick and Morty. The beacon seemed to be set up properly, at least. Hopefully whatever you needed to get out of there would be here before you had to seriously argue with this insecure freak. 

Speaking of, the keeper whirled on you accusingly. He sized you up and stepped into your space. “I’m sorry. You ‘sat through it?’”

“We sat through it,” you doubled down, tilting your head to deliberately provoke him. After the twenty minutes of redundancy you just sat through, the horrible night you had to fight through, and the prospect of getting home within the hour entirely uncertain, you were ready to pick a fight. Maybe it’d make you feel better. 

“Yeah, did you want us to weep with joy? It’s terrible!” Morty piled on, his voice rising. 

“Morty, shut up!” Rick’s eyes swung between you and Morty. “You guys were just supposed to smile and nod, how– how fucking hard could that possibly be?”

You and Morty both sent bad vibes in Rick’s direction. Of course Mr. ‘dump all the shitty work on everyone else’ had the breeziest time at the lighthouse. 

The keeper snarled and used his last power play. “That’s it– I’m taking down this beacon.” 

Morty scrambled to block the doorway. “Hey, that’s not fair! Just because you hate your own writing doesn’t make us bad people!” 

You pulled the keeper back by his shoulder to get him off of Morty and step around him, only for the keeper to find the backbone he’d been lacking all the years and push you down the stairs in anger. You didn’t even hear what stupid catchphrase he spat out—the motion was so swift that you offered no resistance when your foot slipped into a free fall. You tumbled down a few stairs with a pained scream until a thick, cold metal arm snapped tight around your body before your feet rolled over your head for a third time and stopped your sharp descent; the abrupt stop made your head jerk back and hit the edge of a step hard. 

Morty’s voice was muddy and faraway. Black dots dotted your vision before overtaking it completely. 

[ ]

“What the fuck?!” Rick yelled over Morty’s head, glaring at the lighthouse keeper. With Morty in the doorway and the keeper taking up the landing, he couldn’t even get a visual on you. Your scream came to a blunt end and he didn’t like that one bit. 

“Haha,” the keeper panted, the rush of his deed catching up to him. His smile grew. “Haha! I’m not petty or insecure! You want to walk all over me? Not in my lighthouse! See what happens to anyone who wants to shit on my shit!” 

Morty yelled out and surged forward, violently shoving the keeper down the stairs. No one to save him—he rolled and flopped all the way to the bottom, breaking and cracking bones with every few steps. He hit the ground at an odd angle and broke his neck. 

“You like that? You want me to cut to three weeks earlier when you were alive? Fuck– Fucking annoying piece of shit!” Morty called down the stairs to the keeper’s dead body. 

Rick retracted his metal arm with you in tow and quickly assessed your vitals. You were alive, just unconscious. His fingers worked their way through your hair to feel where you got hit. His frown was unmistakable when he brushed over the throbbing bump at the back of our skull. 

“She’s okay, right? Did– did she get purged?” Morty’s bravado momentarily took the backseat as he approached Rick’s side. “Holy shit–”

“Shut up, Morty, she’s not dead.” Rick said. He glanced at his grandson and quirked a smile. “You just purged that guy. Told you that you were suppressing something.” 

Morty didn’t respond, as if reminiscing about it. The beacon beeped, signalling his package was nearby. Rick attached you to his back like a backpack, fastening you snug against him, before he raced to grab up the package that crashed on the gallery deck—two superpowered exosuits that could take out every bloodlusted native on this planet. 

The minute Morty was clothed in impenetrable armor and equipped with a myriad of weapons, he went crazy—flying through the town and sending missiles at the locals without a second thought. Rick, for once, was surprised at how eager Morty was to take advantage of Purge rules where he was once so adamant at denouncing them. It freaked him out. Morty was never like this— never supposed to be like this. Being timid and a pushover was kind of the kid’s thing, and it was what made their thing work so well.

“Okay,” Rick put his hands on Morty’s shoulders, patting him. “You’re just shooting corpses.” Morty let another round of bullets fly on the piles of flesh at his feet. “Okay, buddy, that’s good. Good job. Time to go home.”

Morty panted wildly and shoved Rick off of him. “Screw you, Rick! I'll purge you, too, you old, rickety piece of crap! This has been a long time coming— you know what? Why don’t you take your new sidekick and fuck off?” 

“Sidekick’s kinda need to be conscious to be– to be useful, don’t they? You– do you see who’s conscious right now, Morty?” Rick snatched Morty’s wrist before he could get far. “Would you get the trigger happy out of your system already?”

“It’s be– because I’m expendable, right? ‘Cause– ‘Cause– ‘Cause you can dump allll your shit on me and go on about your day?”

“No you fucking idiot, it’s because I put so much effort into getting your parents to let you come on adventures that it’d be the biggest fucking mistake to let that all go to waste. Morty, do you think I want to go through the hassle of making her do all the meaningless shit that you do? Nobody’s quite as spineless. We all good and square? G– Good.” Rick’s grip tightened around Morty’s wrist as he took off to the skies and pulled him along with him, ignoring any further protests. 

[ ]

Your eyes fluttered open, staring up at the stars whizzing by through the glass of Rick’s ship. You had been tucked in the backseat, sheets fluffed up all around you. Curtains separated the driver’s area and the back, allowing you the darkness to rest. You sat up slowly, peering through the curtains to see Rick tapping his fingers on the center console with his other hand hanging off the steering wheel. 

Morty was resting across from you, stirring in his sleep. You recalled the last events you remembered clearly, questions burning your tongue. 

A beep made Rick look down at the dash. He cursed and descended to a nearby planet, storming out of the car and slamming the door shut. A series of clicks told you that you were safely locked inside. Rick walked off to an alien gas station and almost instantly got sidetracked by all the snacks shelved inside.

Morty blinked awake when the ship shook after Rick’s rough exit. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Are we home…?”

“No,” you answered gently. You didn’t want to force a conversation like you’d done the last time. 

Morty stretched his arms over his head. “You– You okay? You’re not, like, brain damaged or anything, right? Rick said you’d hit your head pretty hard.”

You hummed, rubbing the back of your head and feeling the swollen point of impact. “It’s aching, but that’s about it. Hopefully no brain damage,” you joked.

“I… I pushed the guy. I purged him. Pushed him down the stairs and he…” Morty gulped. “Died.” 

“Oh. Uh… thanks, Morty. Wouldn’t expect that from you, being all anti-purge and all.” You smiled. “Did you feel good about it at least?”

“I did, yeah, when it happened. Now, it’s like— it’s like how was I able to do that, you know? I think I was just angry. Rick said I had repr– suppressed rage or something, so. I think he knocked me out to stop me from going crazy.” Morty mumbled. You nodded and looked out the window to pass the time when he spoke up again. “I’m– um… I’m sorry.”

Your focus snapped back to him. “What?”

“You know, for… for being mean to you.” He said, physically shrinking into his corner.

You softened. “You don’t have to be sorry, Morty. You weren’t being mean to me. I get it. The last thing I want is to take your grandpa from you, or Beth, or Summer. Or– Or Jerry…? I guess? I’d get a little territorial too if some random came into my family and started to monopolize someone.”

“But– But you’re not random. We know you. You can’t take him away if you’re one of us, I guess. You’re like— you actually listen to me, and you hang out with Summer, and you take care of Mom and Dad’s house and stuff, so… It’s stupid.” Morty’s expression turned downcast. “It’s like every time I try to talk to anybody, they act like they’re– like a literal piece of shit is trying to talk to them. Rick does that less than everyone else, kinda. And if he has you then he doesn’t need me and if he doesn’t need me, then– then my parents are right. I have no friends and I can just be left behind to die whenever, at any time, you know?” He laughed it off nervously. 

“It’s not stupid,” you insisted. It was usually easy to ignore how broken the Smith family was as a unit when you knew how broken they were as individuals. Beth had her drinking, Jerry had his general uselessness, Summer struggled with feeling unimportant or inadequate, and Morty had a laundry list of trauma you were sure he wasn’t even aware of. Hearing Morty say it in his words nearly immobilized you, but you weren’t exactly surprised he was carrying this with him. You felt so bad that you didn’t even have any profound words to string together; you wanted to offer comfort as soon as possible. “Your family needs you, especially your grandpa. No one would leave you behind, certainly not– certainly not to die. Rick would never.”

He shrugged and laid back against the ship. 

“Half of the reason I’ve adjusted is because you’d been there to tell me how to cope. That shouldn’t be on you, but you went out of your way to help me anyway. I’d have drank myself to death otherwise.” You reminded him. “You’re my little buddy, too, okay? If you’re ever feeling like that, you can come to me. We’re in this Rick thing together.” You offered your pinky. “Are we good?”

He perked up, smiling. He hooked his pinky around yours in a promise. “We– We’re good. Does this make you, like, step— step-grandma, or—?”

“Omg, no,” you said quickly with a laugh, pulling back and settling against the pillows behind you. “No way. Don’t let that stick. Pretty sure Summer would run with that if she heard it.”

[ ]

That night, Rick came into your room a little after 2AM. You didn’t know that he’d listen to the ship’s playback after you and Morty went back to your rooms for the night, and he didn’t plan on telling you. It was good you were around to coddle Morty’s angst. The kid needed that sort of thing. He heard the faith you’d placed in him—a little optimistic, especially after what you’d been through, but that was what made the declaration that much sweeter. He sat with the dangerous feeling you’d instilled in him until he needed to be beside you again. He needed that sort of thing.

He climbed under the sheets and felt around your head again, pleased to find the swelling of your bump had gone down. You shifted as he got comfortable, turning around in his arms and nudging into his side. His arm came around to rest around your shoulder. 

“You okay?” You mumbled sleepily. He was sure you wouldn’t even register what he’d say.

He hummed affirmatively. “The Morty problem should be– should be fixed after the day we had. ”

He felt you frown against his skin. “Morty’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rick rolled his eyes. It was rational to assume that if you were soft on him, you’d be soft with the rest of the family. He’d have to mentally prepare for all the guilting you’d partake in, and how easy it’d be to bend him to your will for his family’s sake if you wanted to. Morty had learned how to do so recently and he fell for it every time. Now that you and him were in some sort of alliance, he could only imagine what boring activities he'd be made to do in the near future... He guessed he could make little concessions here and there to keep his adventure buddy and his girl happy enough to avoid complaints.

At his acceptance, you snuggled closer. “Don’t wanna go on any adventures for a while,” you said.

He huffed a short laugh. That was his and Morty’s gig, anyway.