A/N: I own nothing! Don't sue me. I-I-I'm poor, ya' know. Don't sue.
I really don't know where I am going with this. I am pretty sure some smutty stuff is going to happen and allll the drama that comes with it. Stay tuned. Sorry for any typos. I don't have any beta readers. This is my very first fic, like, ever. If you have tips or comments or whatever, comment.
Leave comments. I need validation for my continued existence...

Chapter One:

It was a chilly night outside, but stifling in the two-bedroom house which was full of sweating, drunk, and mostly topless strangers. It was his third frat party this month and Morty was sure he would be attending another after his final next Friday.

He didn't enjoy them as much as he did freshman year, staring at the women who shook what their mama's gave them. Freely. Just like that. Without paying them a few dollars or anything.

So much better than a strip club, Morty remembered thinking. Now though, everything was too loud, and the people were so single-universe minded. Slurring through the same boring topics.

"I'm failing my Calculus class."

"I'm gonna get laid tonight! Be my wingman?"

"Dude, I need money for ramen or I am going to starve. Can I borrow ten dollars?"

"Amy, where have you been girl? Did you even HEAR what Angelica did last weekend?"

No one ever mentioned any Bythemium crystals that only grow in a dimension where the sea plants can disintegrate your flesh if you get too close. Or pondered the mystery of the large oak tree growing in cold dark space, millions of light years from the nearest sun. Not one word of the going on's of the universal planetary president elections being held this year for the first time in fifty years.

No interdimensional cable.

.

A long sensual frame with large hips and swinging blonde hair interrupted his self-pity party by backing in front of him as he tried to get to the only bathroom in the house. Man, he really had to go, Morty had prepped for tonight by drinking a gallon of water.

The girl swung in a circle and he caught a glimpse of metal laced lips and a butterfly tattoo on her face. Morgan, he should have known. Morty sighed. She was, as always, unaware of her own body space entering everyone else's while she danced to a beat that didn't match the music. Morty had to roll his eyes in fake exasperation to break his concentration from her behemoth ass bouncing in front of him.

He tried not to think about why he had to fake faking exasperation. When he failed, his hands began to sweat.

"Morty! There he is everyone! Happy birthday, dawg!" Jeffrey yelled into a microphone. "Let's welcome this legend to the stage for a few words!"

The party go-ers cheered.

"Sur-Alright. I mean, I could do that." Morty called out, latching onto the distraction. He wiped his palms on his jeans and half walked half pushed toward the "stage" which was really just the couch. This was something he could do. Something he didn't have to fake. Fake like every relationship he had started in the past two years.

People slapped him on the back as he passed and someone grabbed his crotch. He pulled at the shirt itching his neck, cleared his throat, and stretched his mouth into a wide toothy grin. Morty didn't know what his problem was, this was the life he had always dreamed of having. He winked at a cheerleader and she sagged a little, giving him a dreamy sigh and a slutty stare. He chuckled. Yeah, that never got old.

Morty had never expected to be popular in college. He figured if he were lucky, he could scrape and beg and pity his way into bed, like his father, but his life was dramatically changed after the first frat party his freshman year.

Jeffrey held the microphone out and Morty swiped it out of his hand.

"Hey. Hi, everybody. How are you doing tonight you, fuck, you bunch of fuckers!"

The seniors cheered the loudest. They had something to prove, it seemed, trying to get their kicks in, he supposed, before they graduated and real life set in. Depressing. Repetitive. Expensive.

"Ah Jeez, yeah. Heck yeah. I thought so. Ya' know, me too!. Ready to get w-wrecked? Anyone think they have the balls to try and out drink me on my own birthday!?"

The new faces of the freshman cried out loudly with the seniors this time. So ready. So eager.

Eager like Morty had been as he sat in the garage one lazy Saturday night after his second or third adventure. He was thirteen, almost fourteen, and it was past midnight and the only sound was the familiar squeak squeak of his grandfather's screwdriver. Everyone else was asleep. The flask was full and just... sitting there. Morty picked it up and brought it to his lips, looking over to the hunched, yet still intimidating figure that his Grandfather painted in his element. He waited for the chastising tone, it didn't come. He took a sip. Then another...then another.

Sweaty palms. Think of something else.

Someone handed him a beer. He tried not to turn up his nose. Weak stuff. He continued into the microphone. "What no one? Not one person? Common guys, give me, you gotta give me something to work with here." His voice rebounded back into his ears, sounding too loud, but no one else seemed to mind.

The sophomores and juniors and even the seniors suddenly huddled in on themselves despite all the ruckus they had just been making. Morty understood. The last two weekends had been hard on them. No one had even come close to winning this popular drinking game. "Joey?" Morty asked, but the bearded, scraggly- looking guy held his hands in the air in mock surrender and shook his head. Joey was an alcoholic if Morty ever saw one, but it seems even he knew when to throw in the towel.

A long minute passed, growing awkward and Morty wondered if he laid it on too thick, I mean, Christ, how cocky could he be? He was about to make an excuse and back out to bee-line for the restroom, when suddenly, answering his unspoken plea, four freshmen with interlocking arms, stood up. Morty almost laughed outright at how they looked ready for a protest and glaring at him as if he were a godless monster trying to destroy their favorite tree.

One of them, the leader, an over-confident jock-type pretty-boy with spiky hair and a thick build spoke first. "Alright Mortster. The name is Preston, I've heard of you. Legendary is right... although I figured you would be a little more…" He cut off there, and gestured to all of Morty's person, blowing out a disbelieving breath. "Um, you know…."

" ...Tall?" Morty provided, brushing it off. He had heard worse.

"Yeah, t-that is what I was gonna say. Go figure. Anyway." Preston said. "I figured we would give you a little bit of a unique challenge. You know, something worthy of your birthday. Obviously, no one here can hold a candle to you by themselves, from what I have heard you can drink anyone into an early grave, so how would you feel about going against all four of us? One at a time?"

The crowd buzzed. Stunned that they didn't think of it first.

"Fine," Morty said.

"Wait! I want to raise the stakes." Preston demanded.

Morty's eyebrows rose. This was different. "What did you have in - what are the stakes?"

"Loser has to run around the campus, naked!" The girl to the right of Preston cut in.

Figures. Linear thinking.

Morty smirked, a bitter taste in his mouth. If only they knew...you didn't grow up with a man like Rick Sanchez and not know how to drown a fish with water.

"Sure, but - Ok fine, but it has to be in the morning, right before the announcements start." Morty countered.

If Preston was suspicious or wary of Morty's certainty, he didn't show it.

So it began. One beer after another, they chugged. Fifteen minutes passed. The first two competitors, Morty didn't even bother to learn their names, didn't last more than 4 beers each. It was rather disappointing, halfway over and Morty hadn't even really gotten into his groove yet.

Next came the girl, Maria she introduced herself, holding out a cool thin hand which Morty took. Maria was presumably Preston's girlfriend. She lasted longer than Morty had expected, but that was only because it took a while for the alcohol to hit her bloodstream. When it did, she went down hard. Morty put a hand over his mouth, wondering if he had overdone it. He watched for red warning signs when her head lulled to the left as she tried to stay conscious.

"Someone...Can someone get her out of here. To the restroom. She's going to be sick." Morty spoke a little too loudly.

Preston had little regard for his girlfriend being carted off by a couple of her friends, instead, he plopped down on the makeshift couch-stage and roared as he stabbed the can with a little red swiss army knife, then popped the lid, and put his lips to the hole, shotgunning the beer. He roared again when he finished, and the crowd responded with enthusiasm.

Oh Please, Morty thought, frowning. Rick invented that move. Morty didn't say that though. He just popped another lid and drank.

Two more for Preston. Three for Morty. Three more for Preston. Three for Morty. Two for Morty, Four for Preston. Five for Morty. Two for Preston.

Morty had to hand it to Preston, he was eleven beers in and going strong. Morty felt reasonably buzzed now, the world became shiny and his worries melted like butter. A burp- chuckle escaped Morty's lips when he thought of the butter robot, encouraging Preston to chug faster. One, Two, Three, more beers.

My god, he thinks he is winning, Morty thought, keeping pace and glancing over at the swaying mess that was once his savior of a boring night. Better finish this before he gets hurt.

Morty stood and walked over to his competition.

"Dih-ja...Do...Are you calling it quitsies, Mo-Mortster?" Preston slurred. Morty tried not to stare at his right eyelid, which was half closed. The other compensated by widening. He was trashed.

Morty held out another beer to him. Preston looked at it in confusion, and possibly disgust, as the Freshman took it, Morty poked him in the stomach.

"Uuuuaaaaaaaaggggghhhh" Preston was on his knees, blowing chunks. The house, which had been quiet as the intensity of the battle built their anticipation, suddenly burst into cheers.

"Morty! Morty! Morty!" They cried.

Feeling good, Morty flung himself off the couch and into the arms of his colleagues. "Bathroom! I gotta... Man, I have been holding it for ages." Morty shouted at them, and with another cheer, they obliged, forgetting all about poor Preston as the party broke up into bouts of dancing and heavy drinking.

Morty shut the noise out with a click of the door lock. He did his business and scrolled through his phone, not wanting to go back out until he was sure he could take on another competitor. Preston's little gimmick had taken more out of him than he had thought. Maybe he was just getting soft. He hadn't partied with Rick since the summer before he left for college.

Sweaty palms.

Morty tried to block the image out, playing solitaire and scrolling through Facebook on his android. The videos of him and Preston were already circulating, but his mind was loosey goosey now and susceptible to triggers. The memory of Rick's haggard voice popped into his head.

"So, so what, MoOURGHty? Y- you're just going to go- go off and learn, what Morty? Math Morty? Psychology Morty? What, what's your plan, Morty?"

His Grandfather was in a good mood that night. Morty clearly remembered the smell and texture of alien blood that was soaking into the couch from their clothes as he flipped through the Interdimensional cable channels. They had just stolen Phippifino beam rifles from the Phippfinoians, a race that looked to end all other lifeforms in the galaxy. Rick said the weapons sold for a high price because they could melt through a human skull on the lowest setting of one out of thirteen.

"Well, you know Rick. I thought maybe, I mean, what if I just didn't go. Ya' know?" Morty suggested, lighting the bong and inhaling whatever Rick had handed to him.

"Didn't go, Morty? Didn't go to what, school? What, l-like just stay in town and get a job or something?"

"Yeah. Well kinda, like, what if I just did what you do, with you, like we always do. Except for full time." Morty said casually.

"Morty, what kind of du-OUGH-mb dumb idea is that, Morty? You fucking idiot. You have to have a job, Morty." Rick said. Except he yelled it. Rick always yelled, it was his way of saying he cared, but that didn't stop Morty from taking it personally.

"Hey. Ok, Rick. Jeez, you're the one always saying that school is for losers and how pointless it is to even go and stuff."

"Yeah Morty, but, how are you going to make money Morty? I am no-OUGH-t, not going to be around forever Morty. What will you do then? You- you're not like me, Morty. You can't do this kinda dangerous stuff on your own. You're too dumb"

"Rick, what are you even saying? Not around, what you're going to bail again? How could you do this to Mom, Rick?

"No you dumb fuck. Jesus, you're dumb. I am going to DIE M-morty!"

"What? Die? DIE! Rick why? W-why would you die?"

"Everyone dies, Morty!"

"No. You won't die. You can't die. Look at you! You- you're timeless! Not a single wrinkle, Rick. I am pretty confident about this one, Rick."

"That's it, I need to take you to a- a fucking ph-phys- a therapist, Morty. A fucking shrink huh, Morty? I kind of always knew you needed medication Mo-OURGH-ty, but damn."

"What the fuck Rick. I don't need a shrink, I am being serious here. How old even are you?"

"That's rude Morty, you little shit, but, uh, I don't know I lost track...seventy-five, seventy-eight, Morty."

"See, most people your age already have one foot in the grave!" Morty countered, taking another hit. This was good shit.

"Yeah. Well, I guess I have messed around with a few chemicals and there was that one time I ate a- Hey, wait, that doesn't mean you get to skip out on college, Morty. You can't freeload. Riding my coattails to success, Morty. Do you want to be your fucking da-OUGH-d, you want to be a Jerry, Morty?"

"Oh-Oh god, no Rick. Oh Jeez, I- I can't be my dad. I would probably kill myself, but-but isn't there some way, Ya' know, some way for me to get by in life, doing what you do?" Morty took another pull to try and calm himself, how many was that now?

"Jesus Morty, you little needy bitch. What? What, can't be away from your 'ol grandpa for a few years while you have the fu-OUGH-cking decency to get yourself a-an education, Morty? Do I have to do everything for you, Morty?"

"I….well… I-I…just..." Morty stammered, at a loss for words.

" I- I- I-" Mimicked Rick.

Morty thought about it and his cheeks burned in shame. Shame and something else, anger, the knowledge that there was a little nigglet of the truth in his harsh words.

"You- You know what? Fine. You win, Rick. I'll go to college, but I can't be having you drop in every class, every test I have, Rick. It is not fair. It is distracting. It is why I have barely skated through High School. You- you kinda ruined any chance of me getting into a go- a good- a decent college, Rick."

"Oh, so everything is my fault now. So I-I am th-OUGH-e, the reason you are a fucking dumb idiot, a-a stupid moron, eh, Morty? It's my fault too. C-Cause from where I am sitting, you, I, you, the most action you were ever going to get was going to come from the adventures we went on together, Morty. You lost your virginity because of me Morty. You're fucking welcome!"

"What? What does my virginity have to do with this, Rick?" Morty cried, throwing his hands in the air.

"Nothing. Jes-OUGH-us Morty. I am saying I did you a favor." Rick shot back, crossing his arms.

"A favor? Rick, a FAVOR!? My whole childhood was capsized by those adventures! I never got to do a-anything normal. I'll never know if I had a shot with Jessica because you were dragging me off to a dimension where squirrels had taken over the world!"

"Don't talk about them out loud you dummy! They could be listening!"

"Cut the shit, Rick." Morty ground his teeth. " You- you ruined my childhood because you co- you couldn't handle the multiverse without me, Rick! You like to say it is our compatible brainwaves, that I hide you from the galactic federation, Rick. But do you know what I think? You were just LONELY."

"Lonely, fuck, Morty! What the-"

"No Rick! No! I have to finish saying this! Because I was only fourteen, Rick, damn it, Rick.. I, I, I should have been attending classes, ya' know, worrying about tests and pubic hairs, and dating...Instead, I was galavanting all over the- all over space with you're drunk, high, ass and playing god with aliens!-"

"Morty...Oh shit, Morty. How much of this space weed have you had? There is a limit on that stuff Morty. I think I mentioned that." Rick interrupted.

"-All because you have some weird attachment to your grandson, making me want- need your approval and praise. When all the while, Rick, you just wanted someone to talk to so you wouldn't blow your brains out.-"

"Woah there, Morty. Wh-OAGH-at What are you doing there… w-watch what you're, where you're putting your hands, Morty. Let go of my fucking shirt."

"-And another thing. You can't be talking about dying Rick, y-you can't ever die Rick. I'll show you, Rick. 100 years Rick and Morty, Forever, Rick. And oh-OH, I'll go to college and I'll ace whatever class I take. I don't need you to make me feel dumb and weak. I don't need this and I don't need you."

"Morty, what are you doing!? Morty, get off of my lap."

"-And oh, I will graduate college and come back here and stand next to you and not feel like a child, Rick. I am not a child anymore. Do you realize that, Rick?"

"Morty, damn it, what the fuck, M-m-morty, go to your room."

"No Rick, I won't. I won't go to my room. Do you want to know why? Because I am an adult. I am an adult and you are an adult. I am not going to my room because I am an adult and I think I am not the only one ya' know, h-here who is, who's- who feels..."

Morty cringed hard into his hands which were squeezing his arms hard enough to leave bruises. He was staring blankly, looking at the patterns on the bathroom tile. His shoulders were shaking. That was the last thing he remembered. That had been the last time he saw Rick. Morty had woken up in his bed the next morning, his Mom was calling for him from downstairs, telling him to grab breakfast and pack the last of his things into the car, so they could beat traffic and get him settled into his dorm. His Dad was moping in the living room., It would be just him and Rick in the house during the day now and no Morty to distract Rick from how much he liked to torture Jerry.

Head pounding, Morty looked all over for Rick. He was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in his garage and his portal gun wasn't in the safe. Morty had the sinking feeling then, way down in the pit of his stomach, that he had broken something between him and his Grandfather.

As the days and weeks passed with no word from him, the feeling began to grow. Mom would write letters about how Rick had invented some crazy science thing and now they owned a three-headed cat, or how Jerry had been zapped to the middle of the Amazon "accidentally", but there was never any direct communication between him and Rick anymore.

Now, after a year and a half, he had Christmas break coming up. Morty was off of work. A part-time job he had taken as a distraction. Now he was going to be trapped in that house with Rick. Not knowing what he had said. Not knowing what he had done. Not knowing how to fix…everything.

Morty walked over to the sink and glanced into the tortured eyes reflecting back at him through the mirror. He splashed his face with cold water, then threw a punch at them, creating an intricate spider web pattern in the glass.

Morty shoved his bleeding hand in his pocket, walked back out to more cheers and three new competitors.