Rick and Morty Short Stories

I Can't Be Happy Without You.

Story For: Me... again.... kinda lonely... kinda bored... ;-;

Content:
Simple Fanfiction
What would really happen to Morty if he lost his Rick?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

       It finally happened. Morty was no more than seventeen, finally growing into a young adult, as he continued going on adventures with his grandfather, as he continued to help the insane man in his garage, still being pulled from his classes.
       However, the adventures came to an abrupt end.
       Morty.. Morty had made a mistake. He never meant for it to happen, hadn't even realized what he was doing. It wasn't intentional, it wasn't a voluntary action.

       Morty and Rick were crouched behind a wall, waiting for the right moment to cross the hallway. They simply had to cross the hall to grab whatever it was that Rick had needed this time. The guards were making their rounds, their weapons ready to fire. They weren't going to let anybody live past this point, and Rick had made that very clear. They were trained to kill, no questions asked. 
       The brunet had been only slightly terrified, knowing he and Rick had been on multiple adventures like this and survived. He was seventeen now, he'd had more than enough adventures to know what to expect. 
         As they remained crouched, Morty sniffed lightly. He knew the sound wasn't enough to call any attention, even from Rick, who sat beside the brunet and waited anxiously. However, that sniffle was definitely a wrong choice.
        Morty felt a ticklish burn in his nose; his eyes began to water. His green orbs widened with realization as he panicked mildly. He tried holding his breath, pursing his lips and praying, but all to no avail.

       He sneezed.

       That had been more than enough to call attention to the duo as Rick grabbed him quickly, opening a portal as shots fired all around them. "M-Morty!" He bellowed, shoving the brunet quickly through the vortex. "Ar-Are you alright, M- eugh Morty?!" The brunet furrowed his brow. Rick never worried about him. He had actually expected to be reprimanded severely for screwing this up, for ruining something so important to Rick.
       "Y-Yea, I-I-I'm fine, Rick," Morty responded, wandering to the desk as he knew Rick would most likely come up with a plan to repeat that. However, he found that Rick was not behind him as he waited patiently. "Rick?" He questioned. 
       The second Morty had completed the hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, his vibrant green orbs widened, his feet slapped upon the pavement as he ran back to Rick, finding him crouched on the ground, clutching his gut. "It-," Rick drew a sharp breath, laughing shakily as though it would relieve the brunet's obvious worry, "I-It's alright, M- urp Morty." Rick's voice was soft, his belch barely noticeable that time. "I-It's better this.. this way." 
       The man clutched at his stomach, Morty seeing the blood seeping through his shirt's material. "I'm s-... supposed to die before you." Rick chuckled weakly, as though trying to comfort Morty, even in his weakest state. There were no sardonic remarks, no insults. Rick was going to die, that much he knew. And he was going to go in a way he hated most: 'like a bitch', as he'd say. He wouldn't let Morty worry about him. He was going to make sure the brunet was alright, even as he found it harder to breathe now. 
        "Live life, M-Mo-Morty," Rick rasped. "Don't listen to... what I s-said. What do I know ab-... about bein' happy, r-right?" Morty watched in horror as his grandfather fell to his side, his breathing labored and weak, his brow furrowed and eyes scrunched shut. He screamed weakly for somebody to come to the garage, praying somebody could find them. "S-Somebody, pl-please!" 
       "Morty, it's alright." Rick whispered. "I wa-wanna... I don't wanna be here an-anymore. D-Don't wan... to hurt you, put you i-i-in danger. This is the la-" Rick drew in a sharp, painful breath, "the last adventure.. M-Morty. Remember, Jerry's a pussy. Y-.. man of the h-house, Morty. M-Man of the house. Look after your mom and S-Summer."
       "R-Rick, hold on, th-they're coming, I s-s-swe-swear!" Morty begged. Rick smiled softly, shaking his head. "T-Too late." His smiled never faded, and Morty wondered if he was getting his own personal visit from somebody he cared deeply for. Morty had never been the religious type, listening to Rick's constant speeches on the subject, but he thoroughly wondered if maybe Rick was being visited by a friend whom he cared for dearly, who had come to collect his grandfather. "Be g-good, Morty. B-Better.. Better than m-me," Rick whispered. 
       Morty stared on as Rick breathed heavily for a moment, gasping for air as his brow furrowed slightly. "I w-will, Ri-Rick," Morty sniffed, gripping his grandfathers hand as he remained crouched down beside him. "I pr-promise," Morty's voice cracked as he sobbed bitterly, watching as Rick's chest slowly came to a standstill. He placed his hand beneath his nose, wondering if maybe he was still holding on, and found nothing. He didn't know how to check for a pulse, didn't know how to be certain, but he was in this moment.
        Rick was dead. And it was Morty's fault.