"I hope your sister secretly thinks that sweater is as ugly as I do, Morty," Rick mused.
"She doesn't," Morty said, aggrieved, glancing down at the grimacing Christmas Garfield on his chest that he'd managed to bleed all over. He flapped a flannel at a wet pink smudge.

Rick scrutinised the pile of dirty laundry that he'd tipped all over the floor. He rummaged a pair of Morty's own filthy pyjama bottoms (fire hydrants?) from the mess and offered them placidly. "You're doing her a favour. These are gross - you're gross, Morty," he added, grinning, as Morty stepped clumsily onto-into them. Morty laughed a little giddily.

"I-i-it's the dirty laundry? Wha- whaddayou want from me? Why would I put- put clean-" Morty tipped spacily to the side, pulling them up. Rick caught him lightly at the shoulders, half-balancing him against a knee.

"Po-Oint taken. Eaaaaasy does it, party girl."

Morty laughed helplessly. The room continued to oscillate in smudges. "Okay," he said, uselessly.

Morty looked small, kiddish, inside Summer's hood and big sleeves, Rick thought. Morty was leant carelessly up against him with a child-like acceptance, studiously pushing the stained cuffs up his arms, breathing softly through his mouth. Rick immediately transposed a little Beth, less than ten years old - very seriously showing him a bug in a butter container.

"Who's this?" He'd said, stretching around her at eye-level.
"It's a Tobacco Hornworm Caterpillar," She said carefully, pointing. "He was eating a tomato!"
"Whoa! Little guy knows how to party!"
Beth had leant back into Rick's stomach trustingly and giggled, her hand alighting on his arm.

Rick sucked in a breath. The sedative smoothed over the irritable, guilty spider that usually crawled around in his stomach whenever he remembered Beth's weird, shitty childhood, and replaced it with a soft little beat of affection. Still holding Morty's shoulders, Rick squeezed. Morty looked up at Rick in the mirror's reflection.

"Yeah, Rick?"

Rick shook his head. "Nothin', Morty." He stepped around and stooped down, looking into Morty's face. "Let's get down to business, huh? We've fuck-assed around long enough." Rick clicked and pointed gunfingers at Morty's nose. "Y-you ready?"

Morty frowned. Garfield frowned. A low prickle of fear wormed its way to the surface. "This is gonna suck, isn't it."

"Uh-huh. But only for, like, a second."

Rick snagged the flannel from Morty's hand and tossed it on the counter. Turning back into a kneel, he held his hands out in front of his face, pressed together at the palms, thumbs extended. "Do this. Like, like-like you're praying, Morty." Rick affected a mock-beatific expression, touching his clasped hands to his nose.

Morty did, and looked at himself in the mirror, over his fingers. He touched his nose and winced. "I'm such an idiot."

"True that-"

"No, I'm serious, Rick! It su-"

"Look, Morty, I'd love to endulge your attempt to sidetrack me," Rick cut in, unmoved, "but I'm trying to make you less of an idiot just now, so." He tipped his fingers towards Morty and cocked a brow.

Morty breathed out hard, replaced his hands over his nose and nodded. Rick nodded back.
"You're gonna be doped up enough for this to be fine, I think. Close your eyes and think about Jessica's boobs."

Morty laughed nervously, spacily, from between his hands. He did, despite himself.

"Hands tight, like this-" Rick reached over and adjusted Morty's fingers. "When I count to three, I want you to pull down quick and pop your nose back in place." Rick dropped his hands down and tapped his knees. "Yes? Yes. Boobs."

"Nnnnnnnnn-" Morty hummed, fidgeting nervously on the spot.

"Make as much noise as you want, it's cool. Ready? One-"

Morty's humming increased in volume and he scrunched his eyes closed.

"Two-"

Morty snapped his hands down. His nose crunched audibly into place.

"JESUS-FUCK," Morty collapsed over on himself and buried his head into his knees. He split into immediate, uncontrollable laughter, muffled into himself.

"Hoo, Morty!" Said Rick, clearly amused. He reached over and slapped Morty on the back. "You got an interesting concept of 'on three,' huh."

"Haaaaa," Morty gulped in air between shuddering laughs. "That was, like, INSANELY painful. Aah, wow." He sat up. Rick's eyes scrolled over his face with a brief, clinical gaze. He winked and gave two thumbs up.

"Less dumb and less ugly, though! Nice."

Morty gave a watery laugh. "Thanks, Rick. H-hopefully it doesn't happen again, but -"

"Now you can fix it, if it does," Rick agreed. He stood up, jostling Morty up with him. "S-s- the same as everything. You wanna learn how to do a thing - i'm probably smart enough to figure out how to teach you." Rick rubbed the back of his neck and squinted.

"Probably don't tell your mom about the drugs though, uh."

"Yeah," Morty agreed.

"Yeah. Ball Fondlers reruns?" Rick opened the bathroom door and stepped back, patting a nodding, laughing Morty through.