Eviternity: Book 1 Jerry's World

Six

  Rick

Suspicious looks. Side glances. Crossing the street so they didn't have to risk getting too close to 'the less thans'. It rubbed Rick the wrong way and he was kind of glad that Morty was stupid enough to not realize that those people went far out of their ways because of them.

In this part of The Settlement the higher-ups spent their cut on luxuries like rich clothes, soft fabrics, fattening foods, glittering jewels and pamperments such as baths and haircuts. All things that someone of Rick's status would never have. His own jagged-ended hair was cut by himself, usually with a hunk of broken glass.

He hated being around these worthless snots that thought they were so much better than him simply because they'd been sired by a man with power. It was disgusting.

If he was even a middle-class, he'd use everything he could get his hands on to create an army that would rip all of them limb from limb. But he was just a less-than. Just a bottom class trash worth only the labor they could force out of him.

By the time he arrived near his destination, Rick had his hands shoved in his pockets to hide the fact that they were clenched and shaking with suppressed rage.

He became aware of the fact that the soft clicks of Morty's boots was no longer following him and he turned to see the boy standing and talking to a well-dressed man with dark hair. Rick didn't care much for the look on the man's face. He stalked back and caught the end of Morty's sentence.

"... should. I gotta go w-with Rick, he's my guardian now, I guess."

"Is he? Is this him?" The dark haired man straightened up and let his gaze wander over Rick's body. Morty nodded and shifted a half step closer to Rick.

The man suddenly grinned and offered his hand to Rick. "Hello there! Vincent's the name. I was just talking to your boy here. Such a sweet little thing. Mortimer, right?" Morty nodded in confirmation at the sound of his name. Vincent chuckled and ruffled Morty's brown hair. "I was just wondering if you'd be willing to sell your son? I assure you, he'll be well taken care of. Nothing... Unsavory. I just want a boy of my own and he seems so kind."

Rick crossed his arms. "Well, my grandson is dumb as a sack of bricks. You don't want him. Come on, Morty." He grabbed Morty's hand, shuddering at the feel of skin, and started to tug the boy away when Vincent spoke up again.

"Oh I don't care about his mind much. Won't even let him go for thirty million?"

Rick froze. Thirty million. He half turned, eyes narrowed. "Thirty million coppers?"

Vincent gave a knowing smile and shook his head. "Golds."

The gears in Rick's head started whirring, his massive mind frantically calculating what he could buy, what he could make, who he could take down. A shiver licked its way up his spine and his mouth started to water.

Oh hell yes.

Rick grabbed Morty under the arms and held him out to Vincent. He'd already made the boy into a living weapon, what more did Morty expect of him? Wherever the little fool ended up, he'd be fine. Physically speaking. "Congratulations, it's a boy!"

"Wha...? Rick?" Morty finally seemed to have worked out what this all was about. "You're not really going to sell me are you? You can't! You can't, please!" He tried to hold to Rick's arms, but Rick easily shook him off, depositing the child in Vincent's arms.

The man promptly started to snuggle the boy, rubbing Morty's hair and making loving noises. "He's so cute! Don't worry little Morty, Daddy Vincent will take good care of you!" He put Morty on his hip and Morty automatically wrapped his legs around Vincent's middle, clinging to his new 'dad' like a child.

Rick held out his hand, left brow cocked. "Now, before we get too much farther...?"

"Ah. Yes, of course." The man fished around in the pockets of his suit coat and produced a leather wallet, reaching in and pulling out a transfer paper. He scribbled out a number and signed it with a flourish and a grin.

Morty, who's eyes had gone blank like they did when he was really thinking, suddenly started to cry, wet sobs shaking his small body. Vincent, still clutching the transfer paper, made efforts to quiet him, but it was in vain. Morty kept crying, though quietly.

Rick didn't get what the kid was so emotional about. He was going to go off with who appeared to be a top-class man and live a top-class life. He was going to be full fed and warm and clean. And if it didn't work out that way, then Morty's body would automatically defend itself. So why was he crying so much?

"Listen, Vincent." Rick crossed his arms and Morty sniffled. "He wakes up early and goes to bed a little after sunset, he hates dry bread and thunder scares him sometimes, even if he won't admit it. He loves oranges and if it rains he likes to look for rainbows. He's allergic to that cactus soap, so keep him away from that, he'll break out in hives. And make sure someone sleeps in the same room as him, he can't sleep well if he can't hear someone else breathing, and check on him if he doesn't move around a lot, he might be having a nightmare. He won't thrash or yell, but he'll cry, so if that happens, wake him up and never, NEVER leave him alone in a place like this. He gets confused easily and he'll wonder off and then someone might hurt him. Got that?"

Vincent gave a determined nod, holding Morty closer. Morty looked caught between awe and despair, unshed tears glimmering in his dark eyes. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and held his hand out. "R-Rick. Don't go."

Rick just held his hand up for his money.

And then, of course, the most annoying man in the world decided to make his appearance. "Rick? Morty? What's going on?" Jerry arrived, wearing a white and gold suit that glittered brightly in the afternoon sun, his knee-high black boots clicking sharply against the cobblestones.

Rick groaned, knowing that his chance at pulling himself free from the lower class had just fell straight through his fingers. Morty waved and said, "Hi Dad!" further ruining whatever was left of his chances.

Vincent had paled, obviously fighting over wether he should bow or continue to hold Morty to his side. "M-M'Lord! Th-This is your son?"

"Um... Yes he is. What's going on?" Jerry looked towards Rick for help, but Rick just glared at him.

Morty said, "Rick was selling me."

Rick winced. Morty's innocent voice somehow made the situation sound way worse than it was. "He was gunna be fine." Rick muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Jerry looked horrified. "Sold? Rick, you were going to sell my child?"

Rick shrugged. "The boy's worthless, I need money, and he'd do better with this guy than with me."

Vincent, realizing that he wasn't going to get to keep the son of his 'god', gently put Morty back on the ground and the boy ran to Jerry, hugging his father's legs.

Jerry rubbed Morty's hair and gave Rick a confused look. "If you need something, why didn't you just ask instead of selling Morty?"

Rick didn't bother to answer Jerry, he was too busy being pissed off about the fact that thirty million golds was currently walking away from him in the pocket of Vincent.

Why o' why had Jerry not done the nice thing and died when someone tried to murder him?