#surgeonrick

Why not

Getting so wet over this man

Surgeon Rick - Pocket Mortys

Rick knew he should have stayed home to begin with, but he’d felt like he was getting too close to finding a cure to even take a sick day. It doesn’t help that every time he gets sick, he nearly lands himself in the hospital every time. He kept himself in the lab, wearing a medical mask and staying away from the Mortys, completely unaware of the fact that there was anyone watching him as he went into another violent coughing fit. Much less, would he think that it’d be Surge. The guy was pale and tired, probably contracted some type of flu or other from a Morty. He couldn’t even focus properly on his work. With a small, sickly sniffle, Rick wiped his watery eyes. “Shit,” he mumbled, before sending himself into another coughing fit.

“Is that even a question?” he muttered, not even turning around.

Rick had managed to find a small area in the back of the medical center to read a letter he’d received, away from the prying eyes of his coworkers. He tucked himself into a corner, quietly reading the letter over, each time looking more distraught. By the fourth time, Rick had his head in his hands, letting out quiet sobs as he held the now-crumpled paper. His dimension’s family was gone, a fire had burnt away their home, with the Smiths still inside. Of course, Rick wasn’t going to approach anyone about this. He pulled his legs up, resting his elbows on his knees, his crying getting worse the more he thought about the fact that his family was just… Gone.