Don't Think About It

Summary: An extended, alternate version of the scene in Meeseeks and Destroy where Morty is attacked by King Jellybean in the bathroom, where Morty doesn't escape so easily. Includes Morty's thoughts during and Rick's thoughts afterwards.

Author's Notes: Rick and Morty is a fucking heavy show, guys... I'm loving this trend lately of extremely comedic shows being simultaneously extremely dark - because that's what comedy often is - people in a lot of pain making others laugh. It's so much easier to repress things and make light of life than to actually confront certain thoughts and feelings - Comedy and anguish go often hand in hand. I think the funniest fuckers out there often want to be dead half the time.

This story isn't a comedy, even though the show very much is... The show seems to know when to take itself seriously, and I think the viewers generally do too. There might be a few aspects that are a little funny in here somewhere, just because these characters are funny people and sometimes I can't help myself - but the overall tone here is not at all humorous. I'm kinda just delving deeper into what the show already not so subtly hints at - you know... emotions.

Before you start reading, I'll let you know that I'm not going to let anything too awful happen in this. I'm glad Morty escaped before things progressed too far in the episode and absolutely will not make Morty suffer much more than he already did in the original story... I mostly wanted to focus on Rick's bond with and care for Morty and needed for Morty to not be able to fend for himself so much to better illustrate this. The show did a really great job showing the same thing, really... I just want to elaborate on it...

I took most of the beginning dialogue directly from a transcript of the episode. I may have altered it slightly, but it's pretty much word-for-word how the scene started but with more of Morty's thoughts included. After that first bit, I change it up and the rest of the story is pretty much my own creation. (There are going to be three chapters, so stay tuned.)

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Chapter 1

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Morty frowned as he made his way into the bathroom of the Thirsty Step. The longer he and his grandfather spent making their way through this adventure, the more Morty feared Rick would be proven right. They'd made a bet, in which Morty hoped to prove an adventure led by him would be safer and more successful than the hectic, terrifying adventures led by Rick. While Morty had been confident his own adventure would be the greatest, he wasn't so sure anymore. His grandpa always seemed so reckless, and Morty always seemed to be the one to suffer from his poor decision-making, which was precisely why Morty wanted so desperately to prove to the man once and for all that an adventure directed by his own more careful watch would turn out better. If Morty made the choices, they'd be the right ones. No one would be nearly killed. Nothing horrible would happen. It would just be a fun adventure, with only enough danger to make it more exciting.

He wasn't sure if his hopes were going to become reality at this point, however. Morty's more careful approach didn't necessarily prevent rather difficult obstacles from getting in their way. First they'd had to face a murder trial because of a freak accident. Now they were at the very top of a very large staircase made of very tall stairs, and he wasn't sure how they were going to get back down... The whole purpose of Morty's adventure had also become to help out the villagers who lived at the bottom of these steps, and he hadn't found a way to do that either.

Deep in thought, Morty looked down as water from the sink dribbled over his fingertips. He hadn't been paying attention when he walked in, but now noticed another person was also standing at the sink, and was now speaking to him.

"How are you today?" The person asked in a friendly voice. "I'm Mr. Jellybean."

Morty couldn't help but to smile. Rick seemed to think Morty's idea of an adventure was a lame joke, but how much more whimsical could an adventure get? Here he was talking to a Jellybean person... A guy actually shaped like a jellybean... Even if Morty and his grandfather were stuck at the top of a giant set of stairs, that alone was pretty cool.

"Hi, Mr. Jellybean. I'm Morty," He introduced himself and then answered the guy's question. "My grandpa and I are on an adventure."

"Nice," Mr. Jellybean grinned. "Is it a fun adventure?"

"I hope so..." Morty let his uncertainty be known as he turned off the sink's water and shook his hands off slightly. "But I'm starting to get nervous that maybe it's gone a little too far off the rails..." He grabbed a paper towel and dried his hands the rest of the way.

Mr. Jellybean smiled at him encouragingly. "Isn't that what adventures do?" He asked in a kindly voice.

Morty smiled back. "Hey... You know what? Y-you're right." Morty reassured himself while agreeing with his new friend. Mr. Jellybean was right. Things weren't going that badly. Being stuck at the top of an unusually large set of stairs wasn't the worst predicament Morty had found himself in during an adventure with his grandpa. "Everything's going fine..." He continued, "I just gotta relax and go with the flow," He added with a smile as he felt his tension begin to melt away. He really did often find that he worried way too much. His adventure was still salvageable... He'd gone on adventures with his grandfather during which he was certain one or both of them would actually die. The issues with this particular quest were nothing compared to that.

"Yeah," Mr. Jellybean agreed in a very cheerful voice as he threw his arms happily in the air and took a step closer to Morty.

Morty smiled until he felt large hands come down on his shoulders. He grimaced and shrunk down ever-so-slightly when he felt his friend's fingers moving softly over his shirt, rubbing his shoulders.

"O-okay," Morty felt entirely awkward at this point as he tried to shrug out of Mr. Jellybean's grip without offending him. He had no doubt in his mind that this conversation had just turned extremely creepy extremely fast, but he still didn't want to offend the guy. Maybe in Jellybean culture, people were a little more handsy. The guy had been so nice up until now, so Morty didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing. "Uh... B-bye..." Morty tried to force another smile as he took a step toward the door. He wasn't exactly good at social interactions even on a normal day. This conversation had gone south so fast that he was actually sweating now.

Before Morty could reach the door, he felt a hard hand grip his arm and pull him back. "Uh, No, stay!" Mr. Jellybean's voice was still deceivingly sweet, but his hands were rough - even bruising. "Go with the flow," The guy said as he moved his hands over Morty's stomach and chest.

With panic beginning to bubble up to the surface, Morty struggled against his attacker. He didn't care if this was just a cultural thing anymore. He wasn't going to play along. "Stop!" He said in as assertive a voice as he could muster. He ended up sounding a lot less strong than he wanted. He shrunk out of Mr. Jellybean's hands and shoved the guy away. "You-you're making me really uncomfortable..." He added as he stepped more quickly toward the door again. He was feeling a lot more desperate to get out of there now. This person clearly had boundary issues.

Mr. Jellybean was much more quick to grab him this time, pulling him back with hard, rough hands and shoving him forward against the cold, hard surface of the bathroom's sink. Morty winced as his chest was crushed against the sink's surface and as his legs were pressed painfully against the front.

"Stop fighting me," The kindly voice from before was gone, along with any bit of gentleness that went along with it. There was nothing careful or at all kind about Mr. Jellybean now. The whimsy of the situation was gone. Morty was only left with terror and dread in his heart and pain in his limbs as he struggled to pull out of the guy's grip. "Just let this happen," his attacker growled as he shoved Morty roughly down and as Morty continued to push against the sink as hard as his arms would allow.

"Get off me!" Morty demanded in a shaking voice. He could feel warm, sticky drool dripping down onto his cheek as he continued trying to push his assailant off of him, and for a moment, he thought he may have actually succeeded when the weight was no longer pressing him harshly into the sink. But his relief was short-lived when he realized he hadn't pushed his aggressor away at all. Mr. Jellybean was simply yanking him up away from the sink by his arms.

With another wince, Morty felt himself thrown harshly into one of the stalls. He stumbled back, landing against a toilet and immediately standing back up and frantically rushing toward the stall's door.

Mr. Jellybean was on him again instantly, pushing him back against the toilet and shoving him down, holding him painfully in place. One of his assailant's hands rested on Morty's leg, pushing down to keep him from standing again while the other pressed against his chest.

"No!" Morty yelped in a panicked, shaking voice. "Stop! Please!" He begged. He wanted to scream, but his breath felt caught in his throat as his attacker began licking his face while still holding him harshly down.

"Stop being such a fucking tease, you sweet little twat," Mr. Jellybean's voice sounded more cruel than ever as he growled into Morty's ear and gripped him harder, running his tongue over the boy's cheek.

Morty squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered as he tried to push his assailant away again. The guy was way too strong - much stronger than Morty would have ever guessed considering he had introduced himself as 'Mr. Jellybean,' and was barely any taller than Morty himself. Now that the guy was on top of him, however, pinning him down with large, strong, bruising hands, Morty realized he seemed bigger now. Maybe he wasn't tall, but he was still sort of bulky, and felt very heavy as he crushed Morty down in the bathroom stall.

With a pained, terrified whimper, Morty opened his eyes when he felt his attacker grip a fist-full of his hair and pull his head back. "Let me go!" Morty screamed as he felt Mr. Jellybean's large hand slide up under his shirt.

"I'm gonna have to get some pictures of you," Mr. Jellybean cooed as he rubbed his hand over Morty's chest, under his clothing.

Morty whimpered and fumbled at his attacker's groping hand, trying desperately to pull it away from him. Mr. Jellybean was too strong.

At that point, Morty knew begging for this to stop wasn't going to work. Struggling to push the guy off of him with his only thought being escape wasn't going to work. He was going to have to do more than that. He was going to have to fight back harder - not just to get himself out of this situation, but to hurt his attacker enough so that he couldn't come after him again.

With a frightened shriek, Morty balled his hand into a fist and brought his arm back, fully prepared to punch his attacker as hard as he possibly could. Unfortunately, Mr. Jellybean seemed to be prepared for this, and grabbed his wrist in a painful, bruising grip before he could land his punch.

Morty whimpered a pained sob as he pulled uselessly at his arm, but felt hope rise in his chest when he heard footfalls nearing the bathroom door.

"Help!" Morty screamed "Hel-" His voice was cut off as his assailant slammed a hard hand over his face. Mr. Jellybean reached back and slammed the stall's door shut behind them and then used his free hand to threateningly squeeze around Morty's neck as the boy reached up with his own hands and gripped at the guy's arms, trying desperately to pull them off of him.

"Shut the fuck up," Mr. Jellybean growled in a low whisper, not even having to tell Morty what would happen if he didn't as he tightened his grip and pressed harder against his captive's face.

Morty whimpered, but didn't try to scream again as the bathroom's door opened. As Morty remained still, crushed down against the toilet as Mr. Jellybean pushed one of his legs between Morty's, he saw a shadow of someone entering the bathroom and walking across the floor.

Mr. Jellybean used his own leg to push Morty's to the side slightly as his grip around his throat and over his mouth and nose increased. Morty found he could barely even breathe under the guy's huge paw, which was making his panic even worse. Did his attacker realize that he was smothering his victim? How long was this part going to go on for? He could kill Morty on accident before whoever had walked into the bathroom finally left.

Morty struggled to move his head back as his lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen. The hand over his face was pressing down harder and harder. He tried to gasp, but could not intake any air, so he struggled harder, causing Mr. Jellybean to grip him harder.

The person in the bathroom with them seemed to be looking for something, as they paced across the floor, opened the door to the stall on the far end, and then started walking back toward the door. Morty knew that even though the hand around his neck would surely tighten, and he might be killed as a result, he had to do something. He had to alert this person of what was happening. His only other choices were to be accidentally smothered to death, or sexually assaulted... or maybe both.

So he attempted to scream under his assailant's hand. Only a tiny, muffled whimper was able to escape Morty's lips, but it seemed to be enough to alert the mystery person that something in the stall was amiss, as the footsteps paused in front of the door.

Morty felt his vision clouding as the hand covering the lower half of his face crushed down even harder, making what teeny, tiny bit of oxygen he had been able to inhale dwindle down to none. He whimpered very softly again as he heard a soft knock at the door.

"You- uh, doin' okay in there?" Morty's eyes widened as he heard Rick's voice on the other side of the door. He thrashed his legs as best as Mr. Jellybean's body would allow and frantically grasped at the hand covering his face, trying to pull it off him long enough to scream to his grandfather that he was in fact not doing okay in here.

But his attacker only gripped him harder, and leaned down closer, crushing him painfully as he stared with angry, threatening eyes into Morty's terrified ones. "Doing fine," Mr. Jellybean called in the falsely cheerful voice he'd used when he first spoke to Morty. "Food poisoning, I guess... Don't order the skarlog poppies," He added with a sarcastic laugh.

"Uh- yeah... I wasn't going to, man..." Rick sounded skeptical. "Hey, have you seen a kid around here? About, uh... four foot... something - uh five... five foot? Four foot... Brown hair, yellow shirt, big dumb eyes... He's like four foot si-sev- like maybe five foot or four... uh... Just.. Have you? Have you seen a kid around here?"

Morty felt tears streaming down his face and catching on the hand still pressing hard over his mouth and nose as Mr. Jellybean grinned down at him and squeezed his throat tighter. "No," He answered in a very upbeat-sounding voice. "No kids..."

With weakening hands, Morty pulled desperately at his aggressor's arms, but simply could not get the guy to budge. He tried his best to scream or whimper or even sniffle or even make a choking sound, but he couldn't. So he settled, once again, on trying to hurt his attacker instead, punching feebly at the guy's broad, thick chest. With each passing moment he felt weaker and weaker as oxygen failed to reach his lungs.

"You sure?" Rick still sounded very suspicious. "He said he was coming in here... That was, uh- like ten minutes ago..."

With pain in his lungs, at this throat, and basically all over his body, Morty stared down under the stall door at his grandfather's feet. It was a sickening feeling to know that his grandfather was only a few feet away, so close to saving him from this, but didn't even know Morty needed saving. Even worse - the man was clearly suspicious, but not suspicious enough. Morty's attacker seemed determined to keep this going even while the boy's grandfather stood a few feet away, so close to rescuing him.

Mr. Jellybean released the grip around his captive's throat in favor of continuing his assault instead, as he answered Rick with indifference. "I'm sure. I wasn't in here ten minutes ago. I haven't seen him. I'd like to be left alone, if you don't mind though. I'm feelin' kinda sick..." He smiled down at Morty as he said this, and as he pushed his hand slowly up under the boy's shirt, while pressing his other hard down over Morty's lips and nose. He knew Morty couldn't scream with his hand over his mouth. The hand around his throat wasn't necessary, but Mr. Jellybean seemed to not know that he was still very much restricting his captive's breathing too... either that, or he didn't care.

Morty didn't know whether to try to pry the hand off his face so he could breathe and maybe get out a good scream or if he should try to stop the guy from touching him. For now, he settled on both, reaching one hand toward his face and prying desperately at the fingers there, and fumbling with panicking, shaking fingers toward the large, bruising hand pushing itself up under his shirt.

Tears streamed down Morty's face as his thin, shaking arms failed to pull his attacker's bruising hands away.

He listened as Rick knocked against the door again, "Morty, you in- Are you in there?"

Morty tried to make any kind of noise as Mr. Jellybean's hand slid down his chest and toward the button of his jeans. More tears gushed over his cheeks as he felt his attacker's rough, strong hand pull the button completely off of his jeans and yank down the zipper.

"He's not in here. Fuck!" Mr. Jellybean's fake-sweet voice was gone again as his frustration with Rick was clearly increasing. "Could you leave me alone? Damn!"

"Morty?" Rick's voice seemed more concerned now as he knocked on the door again, harder and louder this time.

As his assailant's hand pulled at Morty's jeans, tugging them down over his thighs, Morty slammed his foot down as hard as he could, fortunately making contact with Mr. Jellybean's foot and causing the guy to grunt and relax his grip over Morty's mouth just long enough.

Morty inhaled a shaking, pained, desperate gasp of air before screaming in a strained, weak voice, "Rick! Help me!" He managed to squeak before his attacker's hand crushed back down.

It was too late for Mr. Jellybean now. Rick had heard Morty's plea, and nothing could explain that away. Within half a second, the man had kicked at the door hard enough to break the lock. The flimsy door swung inward, slamming loudly against the stall's wall.

Before Morty could even process what was happening, he felt his attacker pulled up off of him. Even so, however, the boy frantically shrunk down, trying to get as far away from the guy as possible as he fell clumsily off the toilet and down onto the floor. Breathing in pained, desperate breaths, he crawled backwards until he was in the corner of the stall as he watched his grandpa punch his aggressor across the face.

Morty whimpered as he inhaled deep, desperate breaths, trying to make up for the several minutes he spent unable to breathe, as he stared with wide, tear-filled eyes as Mr. Jellybean and Rick swung punches at each other. What was he going to do if Rick didn't win this fight?

With a pained groan, Morty dragged himself up to his feet, standing on shaking legs as he pulled his sagging jeans up with one hand and held them in place rather than re-zipping them. There wasn't time for that.

Gripping his pants with one hand, Morty took a few fearful steps forward as Mr. Jellybean landed a particularly hard blow against Rick's ribs, knocking the tall, slender man back against the sink with a loud thud. With an angry shriek, Morty slammed his fish hard into Mr. Jellybean's back and kicked out at the guy's ankles, catching him off-guard enough for him to stumble slightly before turning around and setting his attention back on Morty.

Morty shook his head very slightly as he raised his hands in defense. He already knew he was quite incapable of winning a fight against this guy. He took a step back before he felt a hard hand slam against the side of his face, causing him to stumble back against the toilet in a way that mirrored how Mr. Jellybean had thrown him into the stall earlier.

With a whimper, Morty tried to stand only to find that his attacker was on him again already gripping his wrists in one hand and swinging a hard punch at his ribs with the other.

Morty coughed as pain radiated through his torso and as he kicked out at his attacker. Mr. Jellybean stumbled a step back, but then scowled down at him with fury in his eyes. He raised a fist up, preparing to hit Morty again as all Morty could do was raise his arms up to shield his face and squeeze his eyes shut.

Before he felt the harsh blow, however, he heard a familiar noise followed by what sounded like a watermelon hitting a sidewalk and breaking into a hundred pieces. Before he opened his eyes to see what had happened, he felt a warm, gooey, jelly-like substance rain down on him. He could guess what it was, and really didn't want to actually see it, but he knew he had to come back to reality sooner or later.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a greenish goo exploded all over the stall, all the way up to the ceiling, where it stuck, but also dripped down. The goo covered Morty as well as Rick who stood in the stall's doorway and stared back at him with what could only be described as concern mixed with shock etched in his features.

As Morty stared back at his grandfather and did his best to ignore the disgusting, sticky substance all over the room, he felt a fresh wave of tears overcome him as he brought his hands up to his face, curled in on himself, and began to sob.

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