A/N: Takes place after "Auto Erotic Assimilation" (Season 2, Episode 3). Rated K for referenced suicide attempt (canon), and light swearing. Title references pieces in a chess game.

Jerry Smith had never pegged Rick Sanchez as the kind of man who would attempt suicide. Yet here he was sitting across from a man who, in all regards, should have been dead.. If he hadn't stumbled upon Rick, passed out cold in the garage, barely breathing, and if he hadn't known CPR, he would be telling his wife that her father was dead. To lose her father right after he'd come back He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or punch the man in the face. He wanted to yell but he was completely in shock.

Meanwhile, Rick just sat there, glaring vengefully at him, as if he'd done something wrong in saving him.

"So," Jerry sighed and crossed his arms with disgust. "Do you want to explain yourself? Or should I call Beth and have you explain this to her? Or perhaps maybe you should explain it to your grandson, Morty? Why you'd be selfish as to leave him right after just coming back into his life-"

Rick responded first by burping, then yawning loudly for emphasis on boredom. He proceeded to then drink more than half of a beer without a single word. He really detested this man, and he wanted nothing to do with him. None of them knew who Rick Sanchez was. What he'd done, or what he'd seen. They thought they knew, but none of them did. He was toxic. He shouldn't have come home at all. They would have all been better of without him.

"Why'd you do it, Rick." It was a demand, not a question.

Rick simply rolled his eyes and looked away; there was no point in answering; it wasn't like this guy cared anyway.

"Don't you know how devestated Beth would be if you-"

"Fuck you, Jerry." He didn't look up.

"What?" Jerry's eyes were on him but still he didn't look up.

"You really fucked up, Jerry." Rick's eyes were cold. He really was getting fed up with this whole conversation. He wanted no part in it.

Jerry's eyes widened in disbelief. "...What…?"

"You fucked up again Jerry. Big fucking surprise. That's what you do. You always fuck up."

"What-" Jerry's sexpression darkened quickly into crimson-filled rage. "You selfish sonofabitch!" He lowered his voice to a fierce whisper, so as not to wake the rest of the household. "You almost died! And you have the gall to tell me that I 'fucked up'? Seriously!? What the hell is wrong with you, Rick!?"

Slowly, Rick stood. He didn't have the stomach for more beer. Instead he simply gave Jerry a long and pitying stare before backing swiftly away from the table. "You're a fucking idiot, Jerry," he sneered as he stared down at his son-in-law. "You think you know everything….but you don't know shit."

Jerry stood as well, but simply seethed, glaring dangerously back at Rick.

"You better not tell Beth a single word about this," Rick said low and carefully, "or you'll wish you never saved me to begin with." After a pause he added darkly, "Because that's what you should have done, you stupid selfish prick."