A Swig That Burns the Whole Way Down

Part 2

XxX

"Oh, Goddamn it, Morty!"

Rick seethed at his grandson, who was blinking blearily up at the streetlamps. They'd landed harshly on graveled blacktop, and Rick had a cut on his thumb that stung like a bitch.

"Where are we?" spluttered Morty.

"Wouldn't you like to kn-know," Rick snapped. He checked the coordinates set into his portal gun and groaned.

"What?" Morty demanded.

"We're not where I wanted to be." Rick checked and frowned. "Oh, goody. C-201. Exactly where I wanted to spend my night."

"R-Rick! We've—we've gotta get back!" Morty said, eyes wide. "Mom'll kill me if I'm not a-at my own grad party!"

"Me, me, me," Rick mocked, fishing a screwdriver out from his coat pocket.

"Rick, you're—you're being a j-jerk on p-purpose!" Morty said, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's y-your deal?"

"I don't haUUGHHve a deal," Rick replied. "You're—you're just a frustrating kid. Always—always have been, and always w-will be."

"H-how is my graduation from high school frustrating?" Morty yelled. Then he squinted at something over Rick's shoulder. "Is that…our h-house?"
Rick raised a brow. It was their house, but it was nowhere near as nice as the one from their universe. It was on the cusp of disrepair, with the garage door hanging half open, the gutter overflowing with dirty leaves, a couple of windows broken, and the walls darkened with age. A storm cloud seemed to hover over the house, making it look almost haunted.

"What the hell happened?" Morty asked.

Rick, too, was curious. "Only one way to find out."

The two approached the house, trudging through the overgrown grass and bushels of weeds. Morty went to knock on the front door, but Rick rolled his eyes and turned the knob.

The house was dusty, but judging from the pizza and Chinese takeout boxes that littered the tables, someone was definitely living there. Rick and Morty moved through the eerily familiar home, taking note of the flickering lamps and musty air.

There was a sharp clang that rattled the house.

"Garage," Rick grunted.

Tiptoeing down the hall, they came to the door that led into the garage. Rick was about to open it when the knob started twisting on its own.

"Shit," Rick hissed. He pushed Morty into the coat closet, ran in, and closed the door, leaving it ajar.

A tall, lean figure emerged from the garage, coughing and waving away smoke. "Ugh, da-damnit…Goddamn calibr-bration issues…I'll—I'll work on that l-later…"

Rick and Morty's jaws dropped simultaneously.

C-201 Morty must have been at least forty. He wore a lab coat, no different from the one Rick wore all the time, and baggy black pants. His face was red and wrinkly, the bags under his eyes purpling like bruises. There was a bald spot on the back of his head, shining like oil under the receding lights.

"Oh, my God…" Morty choked.

"Goddamn Morty," Rick whispered. "That bald spot's s-separating y-your peach fuzz like Moses separated the d-damn red sea."

"Rick!" Morty hissed.

"Wh-what? You know you were thinkin' it."

C-201 Morty wandered into the kitchen, yanked open the refrigerator, and removed a bottle of whisky. As he chugged, Rick went rigid.

"Shit," he whispered. Déjà vu sucked, but this was way worse.

C-201 Morty wiped his mouth and burped, staggering into the hall. A goofy, drunk grin spread across his face as he pulled a crumpled up photo out of his coat pocket.

"Ch-cheers to you, RUUGHHick," he slurred, bumping into the wall as he took a swig. "I—I miss y-ya everyday, man…sucks you k-kicked the bucket so sooUGHn…I was on-only like, what, fifteen? Sure does s-suck…but hey…" He dropped the photo. "'Least n-now we have m-more in common!"

When C-201 had returned to the garage, Rick slowly opened the closet door. Morty was trembling behind him.

Silent, Rick picked up the photo C-201 Morty had dropped. It depicted Rick and fourteen year old Morty taking a selfie in front of the hovercraft, looking happier than Rick had felt in days.

Without a word, Rick and Morty left the house and went back out into the street. There were no stars that night, the sky endless and black.

"God," Morty gasped. "What—what happened to me?"

"L-looks like we're in a re-reality where I died when y-you were st-still a teen," Rick said, emotionless.

"But—where're my pa-parents? Where's Summer? I was—I was—"

"You were me," Rick filled in. "Y-you were me."

Morty frowned and wrung his hands. "I guess…you weren't there to help me, s-so I kinda went off th-the deep end."

"I wasn't there?" Rick demanded, incredulous. "Morty, that should've been a good th-thing! But…y-you still fucking lost all your marbles."

"A good thing? Rick, I don't—"

"Morty—Morty, don't you g-get it?" Rick yelled. "You don't need m-me! Morty, I'm—I'm your weirdo gr-grandpa that sits in the Goddamn garage all day and makes d-death traps! You've—you've almost died before 'cause of me! Once…once you leave f-for school, you won't n-need me. You're gr-growing up and doin' stuff on your own. You don't need me," he repeated, clarifying and panting. "So what's even th-the point?"

Morty was so speechless, his mouth formed a perfect little "o" as he gaped as his grandpa. "I…I don't need you?"

"Goddamn it, Morty, yes, weren't y-you fucking—"

"I don't need you?" Morty continued, outraged. "Rick—lemme tell you, Rick, you've said some cr-cr-crazy stuff before, but…God!" he said suddenly, gazing at Rick with shock. "You really d-don't think I n-need you?"

Rick kept his glare locked on his grandson.

"Rick—of course I need you!" shouted Morty, throwing his hands into the air. "How in G-God's name could y-you think I don't need you? Rick, you were the one who motivated m-me through h-high school. You were the one who h-helped me gain the c-confidence I needed to even bother applying to c-college! You've been the one who's helped m-me through these f-four, long awful years!"

Rick didn't reply.

"And y-ya know what? You're the one who in-inspired me to even want to want to become a science teacher!" Morty went on. "B-because you've taught me s-so much, and you've be-been there for me wh-when no else has. Rick—you're, l-like, my best friend. So what if I'm…if I'm busier the next couple years? I'll always make t-time for you and our a-adventures! Rick, th-the reason C-201 Morty is like that is because C-201 Rick wasn't there for him, wasn't there to help him and en-encourage him, l-like you do for m-me!"

"Morty—" Rick tried.

"You're one of th-the best things to ever h-happen to me," Morty said quietly, scrubbing at his eyes. "And I'm—I'm always gonna need you. You mean a lot. Please…please c-come to my grad party?"

Rick's thin lips flattened. He fired up the portal gun, thumbed in the coordinates, and shot.

They stepped through, and the portal closed cleanly behind them. Morty ran a hand through his hair and looked to Rick, hope in his eyes.

"Rick?"

Rick put the portal gun on his work desk and grinned slightly at his grandson, fixing his lab coat. "How much d-dip didja say your mom got?"

Morty's face lit up. "Tons. Probably t-too much."

"T-typical of your mom. Okay, show me th-the way, grad boy."

Morty scrambled for the door, beaming like an idiot.

Oh, what the hell? Rick thought, stepping into the hall, the buzz of guests reaching him instantly. Anything for this kid.

Reaching the kitchen, Rick's eyes widened when he saw how many people were really here. He bit back a groan: Jerry's side of the family had come.

I'm gonna need to refill my flask, though.