Stay By My Side, Okay? - Rick & Morty

Aftermath's Reminders

The night Rick had vanished was when things really went downhill for Morty. Beth was the first to notice that the garage was raided clean of most of his experiments and alienated devices, no note or anything resembling a goodbye left behind. As much of a hassle he could be with his shenanigans and stubbornness, she was very happy that he made the decision to come back into her and his grandchildren's lives. Now that he had fled without a trace of his whereabouts, her only coping mechanism was to drink wine and sulk back into her bedroom when she needed to get more.

When Jerry made it back home, the news struck him with glee. They both despised each other equally as Rick made Jerry look like a beta, the older man claiming the 'man of the house' status soon after he moved in. His ego inflated quite substantially when he checked the garage for himself and enjoyed bossing Morty around more often and controlling the household. Summer didn't seem too affected by the man leaving, but said quote 'the guy was fucking annoying, but at least he was fun.' She mainly continued as she was even if he was there, so not much changed on her part.

Morty however put up with it for the first couple weeks. The night the garage was discovered licked clean, Morty was hurt but not completely shocked. Rick most likely realized he could just go back to the Citadel and pick out another Morty after the whole running around the neighborhood thing and called it quits, since despite his mind showing a vision of Sanchez receiving a Morty was apparently false after all. Perhaps it was a glimpse into the future.

After at least a week, Morty began to regret the entire encounter. 'Rick isn't actually coming back, is he?' That phrase often resurfaced in his mind and he began to overthink what he could have said or done differently. He pushed Rick away with his defiance, and that was solely his fault. He put up with Rick and his forceful tactics to get him to travel on adventures for ages and perhaps he should have just kept submitting to them.

Morty thought he knew what he wanted; peace, privacy, breaks, a say in what happened. But all Morty's can't have that. Ricks don't value their Mortys to a standard playing field with equal respect on both sides, it's a dominant relationship with Ricks on the receiving end.

It has now been almost 2 months since the man's disappearance. Morty has been plummeting further and further in his grades and there was only a few days left of the semester until it was summer break. He was frequently cutting now; his arms, thighs, and even chest were cut to bits and scars were beginning to show through. The encouraging voice was now long gone and he is unsure why it exactly stopped speaking with him. Maybe he was just that repulsive that his own conscious decided to hit the road and call it a lost cause.

Right now, Morty was back on the roof in the usually spot he sits with a new bottle of Hennessy XO. He was completely fucked over already despite not even touching his own booze due to almost dying earlier in the day from a situation after school. Also the only reason he was able to get his hands on such a pricey liquor was due to Summer who apparently had 'connections,' whatever that meant. Morty picked it up on school campus in between classes from one of her friends in exchange for some weed, which Morty had happened to get a few strains for free from Summer herself. Weed was okay, liquor just had a harder and more effective response on making Morty forget, which was his goal. The strains were more for mellowing out. So when Morty wasn't cutting or doing something else to help vent his pain he drank his worries away instead. He did learn it from the best after all.

Sighing, he leaned forward and reached behind his head to slung his hood over his head. Hoodies he practically lived in nowadays, not only to hide the severe markings but also they were extremely comfortable, almost like a wall protecting the boy from the harmful and toxic.

Leaning back, stuffing his hand into his hoodie pouch rewarded him with stroking his fingers against the glass bottle, the ridges upon it defining it's shape even more. He pulled it out and gazed at it hungrily as the fiery bronze coloration reflected brightly in the setting sun and the vanilla kick practically tickling his taste buds, eager for a whisk. Morty understands why Rick had indulged in it on occasion.