Disclaimer: I don't own "Rick and Morty".

Author's Note: Have gotten a little writer's block with Rick and Morty" as often happens in between seasons. Got this idea and couldn't let go of it. So here you go. Won't be a lot of chapters, maybe two. Enjoy!

Morty was getting nervous.

More so than he was usually nervous.

Rick's birthday was just around the corner and he wanted to give him something...special, to show his appreciation of how much his life had improved since Rick's arrival. He never would have gotten the chance, let alone the courage, to go on these trips, and he wanted to do something to let Rick know he was grateful. (Secretly...more than grateful. He was relieved to have the first friend he'd had in...well...it sounded pathetic but...years.)

He'd made something himself and he was anxious for the day to arrive. It was a surprise and he was proud of the fact he'd come up with the idea all by himself. It had come together almost flawlessly and he couldn't be happier with the outcome.

Now...if only Rick would feel the same way...it would be one of the happiest moments of his life.

It took all of his strength not to blurt out the secret and give everything away. To make matters worse Rick was in a sour mood worse than usual. He'd gone on a couple of runs lately that hadn't turned out as well as he'd hoped; they'd been ambushed and lost most of their loot in the process-and this had happened twice, all in the span of one week. Meanwhile, Rick seemed to be drinking more heavily than usual, and this worried Morty, but he knew better than to bring it up; it was an unspoken rule not to mention Rick's substance abuse habits. He also seemed bizarrely focused on examining himself in the mirror, which Morty found extremely odd, because Rick's appearance didn't exactly suggest fine grooming.

"Damn gray hairs," Morty had heard him mutter to himself more than once, when he thought nobody could hear him. It hadn't gone unnoticed to Morty that Rick wasn't as agile and spirited as he'd been when he'd first arrived. Even though Morty was certain that Rick had to be at least over 80, it seemed that Rick's sense of mortality was catching up to him. It was one of the reasons that Rick had been more grumpy than usual (he hadn't been able to outrun their ambushers) and it was as if he was just noticing he wasn't the youngest guy driving a spaceship all over the universe. Somehow, the concept of age had managed to escape Rick for awhile, and now, it was becoming painfully clear he was no longer in his prime.

It saddened Morty to think of Rick secretly obsessing over his age. He hoped his present would cheer Rick up and get him out of this strange funk he was in.

The day of Rick's birthday, Rick sat down as usual to eat with the family, only to leave shortly after breakfast was served. It was mainly Jerry's fault, as his son-in-law not only had bad comic timing, but didn't have any kind of sense of what to say to "old guys" on their birthday.

"How's the view?" Jerry had greeted his father-in-law as he sat down to eat.

"What view?" Rick scowled questioningly in Jerry's direction.

"From the top," Jerry snickered.

" 'Top'?" Rick's eyes narrowed discerningly and with growing suspicion.

"Yeah, the top," Jerry replied as casually as possible without looking up from his game, "you know, of the hill? Because by now you must have had a lot of time to appreciate it!"

A sharp clang caused Jerry to practically jump right out of his skin. "What," Rick hissed darkly, "does that...mean?"

"Well...haha...not like you're...uh...getting any...younger," Jerry chuckled with a profusely red blush, as he grew quickly aware of his unfortunate mistake. Now it was too late to backtrack.

"JERRY!" Beth gasped, staring wide-eyed at her husband. "Dad-just ignore him," she pleaded quickly to her father, who was sliding himself out from the table in a huff, "he doesn't realize what he's saying-"

"Geeze, people! It was a joke!" Jerry exclaimed with exasperation, "Man, Rick, I'd think that of all people you would understand, you know, being the genius you are and all-"

"SHUT UP," Rick snarled as he swung around to spit with abandon in his son-in-law's face, "JERRY!" before abruptly storming off, leaving the rest of the family wide-eyed and stunned into an awkward and painful silence.

It was a while before Morty found himself able to breath again. "I-I'll be right back," he excused himself, "I...gotta use the bathroom."

"Jeeze," Summer muttered as she typed away on her phone, "What the hell's the matter with him?"

Morty actually did have to use the bathroom, but he couldn't help but make a quick beeline to the garage door. He was about to prop open the door when a loud CLANG startled him freezing him in place-peeking through the door, his heart began racing with fear as he watched Rick-a man he looked up to, and admired-having what appeared to be a complete and utter...meltdown. Rick was going ballistic. His grandfather had kicked over the desk, items strewn about everywhere but it didn't seem like Rick even noticed or cared. He tore items from shelves, unleashing an almost unearthly growl as he did so. Morty's heart dropped to his toes as he watched Rick repeatedly connect his foot with the bookshelf, tearing books from the shelves and ripping them apart.

Morty watched, horrified, as Rick slumped to the floor and, to Morty's stifled gasps of horror, his grandfather sat in a crouched position, put his head in his hands, and...

...unable to help himself...

...sobbed quietly, brokenly, into his own arms.

Morty was more than a little shocked. He had never seen his grandfather portray such emotion. He'd almost wondered at times if Rick was capable of tears...but this...this was something he wasn't prepared for at all.

Heart thumping wildly in his chest, Morty backed slowly away from the door, knowing he'd probably only make things worse if Rick knew he'd witnessed...everything. He stole back down the hall and into the bathroom (he'd almost forgotten he actually had to use it). When he returned to the dining room table, it seemed like nobody had any idea what had occurred just then in the garage, as breakfast continued as though nothing strange had happened.

And it just about broke Morty's heart.