Eviternity: Book 1 Jerry's World

Four

Morty

Morty paced in the small living room, trying desperately to grab at the thought that was just out of reach in his brain. Why oh why did he have to be so stupid? He was just smart enough to realize that he wasn't smart and that was horrible enough. But when you added that to the fact that his grandfather was a genius, well it didn't make him feel too hot.

Sitting down on the uncomfortable love seat in the middle of the room, Morty put his head in his hands and tried to focus. Maybe he could think easier if he couldn't see anything. He didn't know how long he sat there, head bowed, but when he looked up and stood his joints popped and cracked in protest.

"Ah... Morty?"

Morty turned at the sound of his name to see Rick standing awkwardly at the doorway of 'their' room. "Yes Rick?"

"Is, uh... Bad time?"

Morty didn't know what Rick meant and he struggled to understand, pushing aside the thought that he would already know if he were smarter. Finally getting it, he glanced at the place where he'd sat on the couch and said, "No, it's fine. I was just th-thinking."

"Then come 'ere for a minute." Rick turned and disappeared through the doorway and Morty followed after, not bothering to try and think of a reason why he shouldn't.

Knowing his grandfather hates most physical contact, Morty made sure not to brush against Rick as he made to stand beside him at the battered table Rick had made years before Morty was even born. "Wh-Wh-What is it, Rick?"

Rick didn't answer. His eyes were glued to the small vial of liquid he was fiddling with, unibrow furrowed with concentration, his tongue caught between his teeth and poking out the corner of his mouth. Morty decided that it was not an attractive look.

With a small huff of victory, Rick turned a bit and went down on one knee to be closer to eye level with Morty. "Gimme your hand, Morty."

The gears in Morty's head turned slowly as he half raised his hand towards Rick. Something was telling him not to, some animal response to danger that said Don't do it! Run!, but Morty couldn't figure out why he felt like that. Rick was his grandfather, his family, and even if he wasn't exactly warm towards him, Rick had never actually hurt him.

Well, he had once, but he hadn't meant to and he didn't even remember it after, so Morty had forgiven him for that.

Rick grunted and snatched Morty's hesitating hand. Turning it over, Rick's grip on Morty's small arm increased to the point of pain and Morty pulled away with a whimper.

Rick burped loudly and said, "Sorry Morty, I don't wanna hurt ya, Morty, but I gotta get a vein to show up."

Confused, Morty once again made a small effort to get his arm back. Rick didn't even look up, just pulled Morty a little closer and stabbed something into the soft skin of his wrist. Pain lanced up Morty's arm and he shrieked, digging in his heels and frantically pulling away from Rick.

It hurt, it hurt so bad, and it burned, like Rick and pushed fire in his veins and that fire was licking its way to Morty's heart. Finally, his arm was free and he fell backwards, landing on his back and curling into a ball around his bleeding wrist.

His whole body burned now, like his bones were melting. He barely felt it when something cradled him and started to rock him back and forth. The movement was a small comfort, like a half-recalled memory of a mother, and Morty clung to that memory desperately as his vision flashed white with pain and he blacked out.

~~~
Relief. That was the first thing Morty was aware of. The sweet relief that came when pain was taken away. His muscles hurt and he wondered if he'd been thrashing around while he was out.

Slowly his consciousness returned and he became aware of the warmth that surrounded him, the quiet sound of someone breathing, the feel of the other person's heartbeat. Morty tried to open his eyes and found that he couldn't, the action requiring far more energy than he had.

He was being rocked, like a baby in a cradle. Or like a lifeless child being clutched to their parent's chest. Shaking off the more morbid thought, Morty tried to think of something else, but he just ended up replaying his last memories over and over.

Rick, grabbing onto him. Rick stabbing him in the wrist. Rick setting his blood on fire.

Morty could feel his breathing start to harshen with anger or fear or both and he tried once more to open his eyes as adrenaline sent a slow rush through his system. This time it worked and the first thing he saw was Rick, light blue hair spiked out in every direction.

Morty saw the expression in Rick's eyes change when he looked at Morty, but he didn't take long enough to wonder what emotion was going through his crazy relative's head. His muscles reacted automatically, rolling out of Rick's arms, and it had been Rick who had been holding him so close, and springing to his feet, fists coming up to protect his face and get ready to strike out.

Morty blinked and relaxed, looking down at his hands in confusion. "H-How did I...?"

Rick stood up stiffly and Morty put his hands back up, wondering in the back of his mind how long Rick had sat and held him. "Put your hands down Morty. I won't hurt you."

His voice was remarkably belch and stutter free and Morty took a step backwards, eyes narrowed. "A-And why should I trust you? Do you know how much that hurt me!?"

Rick sighed and he suddenly looked very, very tired. "Of course not Morty. There was only one dose of the stuff I shot you up with. I-I'd explain it, but you wouldn't understand any of it."

Morty clenched his teeth and his body responded to his anger, settling into a steadier stance. "What did you do to me, Rick?"

Rick turned away and started moving things into piles on his table, talking without looking at Morty's face. "I figured out a way to make the human body into a weapon a while back. Not like a gun, Morty, but like a warrior. I made you a warrior Morty, 'cause you're so useless."

Morty made a choking sound at the word 'useless', but Rick didn't even look over. He just turned and walked quickly away, saying over his shoulder, "Now no one can touch you unless you want them to, Morty."

Morty's face flushed with heat, memories of a horrible moment from months ago flashing through his mind and he looked down at his clenched fists. He looked up at the doorway where Rick had left and even his slow mind could tell that maybe his grandpa cared more than he let on.