Everyone noticed the way Rick was fidgeting with the rubber band around his wrist during dinner, but the only one to bring it up was Beth.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Hm?" He grunted. She cleared her throat.

"Um... is there something wrong?"

He forced a smile. "Does something have to be wrong?"

She shook her head. "I just... noticed that band on your arm. Is it there for a particular reason?"

Rick shrugged. "For all the faults humans have, this thing is almost always helpful. I keep a couple on my person all the time."

Beth sighed, knowing she wouldn't get the real answer. "Okay. Just wondering."

Morty headed into the garage after he finished helping with the dinner cleanup, and found Rick exactly where he had expected him to be. However...

"Rick?"

Rick grimaced as he pressed down the plunger on a syringe filled with a glowing purple liquid, the needle being pressed into his neck. He turned when he heard Morty's voice.

"Oh. Uh, hey." He quickly removed the syringe from his flesh, tossing it across the room where it shattered on the ground.

Morty didn't respond, instead listening to... something. "There's a hum..." His eyes widened. "You turned the field on again?"

Rick avoided looking at his grandson. Morty's voice shook more than usual.

"W- what the fuck, Rick? I- I thought- I thought you were getting b- better!"

"Come on, M- Morty," Rick hissed, pulling his arms into his stomach. "Just leave me alone. It'll be over soon."

"Wh- what was that?"

"Poison," Rick mumbled.

Morty took a deep breath. "How long?"

He shrugged. "About five minutes?"

"I'm assuming there's no antidote?"

Rick shook his head. "Not here, at least."

Morty walked forwards, coming to stand next to Rick. "Th- then I'll just have to wait with you."

Rick groaned, though not entirely in pain. "No, Morty. Go. I w- wanna be alone."

"No." Even with his voice shaking, he was still stubborn as ever. He let out a sob he had been trying to hold back. "Rick... you promised."

"I promised what, exactly?" Rick snapped.

"Th- that you wouldn't hurt y- yourself anymore."

Rick sighed. "You're right." His eyes flickered across the desk to a remote. Morty sensed something was off and grabbed the remote, moving away from Rick.

Rick weakly reached for it. "Come on, Morty. L- let me have it."

Morty shook his head. "N- no. You're gonna turn the field off."

Rick managed a tiny grin. "You're smart." He coughed, blood trickling down his chin. He stood shakily, lunging towards his grandson. Morty stepped back again, and with a stagger Rick collapsed onto the floor.

"Morty..." Rick hacked onto his pristine white coat, staining it red. "Please... just wanna die."

"The only reason you're dying at all is there's no chance of me finding an antidote. But so help me, you are coming back."

Rich shook his head. "I... I'm done... I don't want to... just want it to stop..." He laughed weakly. "Finally got the balls to do it. Please."

"No!" Morty took another step backwards, only to trip over a cord running across the floor. He dropped the remote with a gasp, and instantly the sound of the field deactivating could be heard.

Morty picked the remote back up, frantically pushing at buttons and turning dials. "No, no!"

"I- it's no use..." Rick coughed again, blood beginning to drip from his nose now. "It's a specific combination."

"T- turn it back on!" Morty thrust the remote into Rick's face. Rick shook his head.

"No." He managed firmly.

Morty's eyes scanned the room wildly, until his gaze fell upon a small, open black box. The glowing purple liquid was visible. He grabbed one and held it above his own arm.

"R- Rick, y- you turn that b- back on or- or-" He shook. "Or I'll do it!"

Rick winced. "Don't."

"Turn it back on."

"No."

Morty squeezed his eyes shut, then plunged the syringe into his arm. He depressed the plunger, crying out as he did. He pulled away, dropping it to the ground. He met his grandfather's eyes, which were full of horror.

"Y- you turn it b- back on."

Rick's eyes filled with tears, but when they began to fall he noticed they were made of blood. "Morty... I- I just..."

Morty doubled over in pain, whining softly. "Either we both live, o- or neither of us do," He gritted.

With shaking hands, Rick picked up the remote. It was hard to focus, but he still frantically pressed at the buttons. He kept glancing at Morty, who had fallen to the ground and was writhing in pain.

"Fuck, Rick," He cried. "It hurts. It hurts so much. How- how are you so calm?"

Rick shook his head to clear it. "I'm used to it," He muttered. His vision was starting to fade. Only a few more...

The remote fell to the ground, and Rick took one final haggard breath before laying limp on the ground, eyes fixed on nothing.

Morty crawled his way over to him, sobbing. "Rick? R- Rick, please wake up! I- did it get fixed?"

He was answered by the familiar hum surrounding the garage. He took Rick's hand, squeezing tightly. "Come on... you can't... I... you have to wake up... it's working... you should be back by now..."

Morty sat there in silence, moaning softly to himself as he felt the poison slowly shutting his body down.

Suddenly, Rick's chest rose with a sharp intake of air. He gasped for breath, coughing. He looked up at Morty, who was close to falling over.

"Hey, hey..." He murmured. He sat up, pulling Morty close to his chest. "It's okay. I'm here."

Morty sobbed softly, though from pain or the idea of losing Rick, he didn't know. "Rick..."

Rick swallowed. "I know it hurts. It- it'll be over soon."

Morty gripped tightly to the scientist's now bloodstained coat, fingers turning white as he groaned. "H- hurts... hurts so bad..."

Rick began to say something as an idea appeared, but he pushed it away. Morty looked up at him. "Wh- what?"

Rick shook his head. "I... I was gonna offer..." He clenched his teeth. "No, you're not a dog."

Morty met his grandfather's gaze. "H- hey..." He managed. "P- please... put me out of my misery."

Rick grimaced. "I don't want to hurt you. Again."

Morty let out a short, harsh laugh. "It won't make a difference. I'll die either way."

Rick took a shaky breath, reaching up to the desk and wrapping his fingers around the gun he had left there earlier. He slowly brought the barrel to rest against Morty's forehead, which was beaded with sweat.

"I..."

Morty wrapped his hand around Rick's. "It's okay."

Rick turned away, shutting his eyes. He pulled the trigger, feeling Morty's body go limp against his own.

He dropped the gun, and ran a hand through the brunet's hair. "Shh... it's alright. I've got you." He pressed a gentle kiss on Morty's forehead as the teen's eyes fluttered open.

Morty slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings. "S- so that's what it feels like." He shakily got to his feet, helping Rick up as well.

Rick's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, Morty. I know what I promised... and because I wasn't strong enough I caused you to get hurt."

Morty shook his head. "I know how hard it is to stop something like this. You just need another chance to resist the urge."

Rick let his stained coat drop to the floor. "I'm... I'm just gonna go to bed and clean up in the morning." Morty nodded, following him.

As they got to his room, Rick stepped inside and collapsed on his bed, exhausted. Morty entered the room behind him, and quietly asked, "You think I could... could maybe sleep in here?"

Rick glanced sideways at him. "Why? To keep an eye on me? Don't you trust me?"

Morty shook his head, although Rick could tell that was at least part of the reason. "I just figured you wouldn't want to be alone."

Rick smiled weakly. "Be my guest."

Morty nodded. "I'll go get my pillow. Be right back."

When he returned, he laid down a pile of blankets on the floor. Then, satisfied with the pallet, he turned the light off and laid down.

"Goodnight, Rick." He murmured sleepily.

"Night, Morty."

There was silence expect the sound of the two breathing, until Morty spoke up.

"D- did you kiss me?"

Rick hid a smile. "No."

"I think you did. Gay."

"Hey, you would've done the same in my position," Rick protested. Morty scoffed.

"Sure." He turned onto his side. "...gay."

It was morning when Beth came to her father's door, knocking before opening it slowly. "Hey, Dad? Have you seen Morty? He's not in his room, and-"

She stopped at the sight of the two snoring soundly. She smiled.

"Aw..." She slowly backed out of the room, closing the door gently.

"It's the weekend. They can sleep."

So, with that out of my system, I am contemplating another chapter. It'll just be another visit to the therapist, with some more fluff and maybe a more concrete ending. If you liked, please review!