(Y/N) and Morty Extra

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I open the car door and close it shut, hearing faint rattling coming from the bottles that littered the vehicle's floor. Morty does the same and heads towards the door, clearly tired from our recent "adventure".

"Hey, Mort?" I call after him, leaning against the work bench. He stops abruptly and turns around to look at me, curiosity lacing his features.

"Don't tell anyone....please." I say lowly, with a slight hint of concern intertwined with my words. He raises his brow and tilts his head in confusion.

"Y-you mean R-Rick doesn't know?" The young teen asks. I shake my head in response and look down to my feet in embarrassment.

"No....not really. At least he doesn't know that it's still this bad." I reply to him. I look up to see him slightly nod.

"Y-yeah. I won't tell anyone." I smirk slightly at his response. I stand up straight and walk towards him. I stop , holding my pinkie finger out.

"Pinkie promise?" I ask him with a serious expression.

"A-are you joking?" Morty asks. I shake my head in reply and continue to gesture my finger to him. He looks at his own pinkie and promptly hooks it with mine. I smile down at the young boy and begin to walk away.

"Lets just hope I wont have to cut off that finger of yours." I say under my breath.

"Wait w-w-what?!" He states in a nervous tone. I slightly laugh at his panicked state, taking a seat by the workbench. I can hear Morty open the door slightly.

"Hey, uh (Y-Y/N)?" he says in a quiet voice. I hum in reply, starting to tinker around with the metal scraps in front of me.

"Y-you know there's n-nothing wrong with it. I mean it's not- not like any-anyone will think less of you or- or something because of it." I hear him state. I stop what I'm doing and let his words settle, allowing my mind to think more about what he said.

"Thanks, bud." I say to him. Soon after I hear the door behind me close, leaving me alone with my thoughts. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, I begin to grow uncomfortable from the lingering smell and gross feeling my cloths held. I sit up from my seat, removing my jacket and leaving it hanging off my chair. On my way out of the garage I grab a loose muscle shirt and a pair of shorts from the dryer. I walk towards the nearby bathroom and close the door behind me. Peeling the blood stained cloth off of my skin, I strip down to my slightly bruised and scarred body. I climb into the shower and let the warm water bring me some means of relief. Relief from the sore muscles that carried skin that felt sticky with sweat and dried blood. A sudden pain hits my chest, as if reminding me that this anxiety is one thing I cant be relieved from. I climb out of the shower and put on my clean clothing. Deciding that it was in my best interest to keep myself busy, I head back towards the garage and take a seat at the work bench. I mess around with loose parts of machinery again until a familiar discomfort hits me.

"Damn.....wish I could've found those formulas." I say disappointingly. Still upset that I went through all of that trouble for nothing. Not to mention the fact that Morty was also brought in the middle of it as well. I hiss through my teeth at the sudden stinging feeling in my lungs.

"You're okay, (Y/N)....J-just chill out a bit...." I say to myself while shutting my eyes in pain, gripping on to the work bench for support. Suddenly my eyes snap open.

"Wait a second..." I grab my jacket from behind me, my hand exploring through my many pockets searching for the item of interest. I smirk slightly, pulling out the camera that made itself useful today, hopefully maybe even more than I think. I pull out the laptop Rick usually leaves around and frantically plug in the camera, my unsteady hands missing the outlet a few times. My shaky fingers fly over the keyboard, searching for any data that may be useful to me. My eyes suddenly light up and I jump to my feet, rushing to pull over the white board that was conveniently close by. I snatch a marker that was left in it's tray and bite the cap off, quickly writing down part of an equation that was left incomplete. The formula that I was searching for was recorded on the camera. Fortunately enough Morty had managed to get a clear shot of Matt, or what used to be him, during the altercation, taking in all of his previous memories. All it took was a little bit of searching and eventually I found what I was hoping for.

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