Time Travel Is A Hoax

Strike One

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So the next few chapters are gonna be more developing character relationships between each other, but just to make to conflict coming up even more interesting, and this chapter is going to be a bit longer than the others.
END AUTHOR'S NOTE

After a few days of the group talking, and Michael more or less begging Beth, she happily let him stay in their house until he was ready to leave--which isn't nearly close to happening. He would go out and get a job, but him and rick had this discussion and it didn't go too well.

"I do whatever I fucking want you piece of shit!" Michael shouted at Rick, scowling.

Rick just waved off his comment. "You're helping me with my errands, that's yo--ooourgg--ur job." Rick saw Michael scowl deeper, his eyebrows furrowing.

"But you don't pay me, so it's not a damned job." Michael replied bitterly, Rick glaring at him. "I need to buy food, ya know Rick?" He tried to make Rick understand, but Rick shook his head.

"Here," Rick stated, diging out his wallet and trying to hand it to Michael who refused it. "Take it if you want to go buy food, you had fun stealing it the last time."

Michael rolled his eyes before replying. "I was getting back at you back then." His voice had a sublime cover of regret laced on every word. Rick didn't seem to care, his face turning into a scolding frown.

"What's the diff--eerugh--erence now?" Rick asked harshly, Michael's face quickly showing his guilt.

"It was a stupid thing to do," Michael stated before remembering that Rick had done this before--turned the argument against him. "I'm not taking you money." He told Rick, the two sharing a glare before Rick put his wallet back into his pocket.

"I'll start paying you for each errand you help me with, de--aaurp--al?" Rick suggested, not having time to draw out a whole fight.

Michael huffed, but agreed. He didn't want help from Rick to be able to get money, but he also knew would hate it if he got a job--after all, he doesn't even have any ID on him.

Rick and Michael had clashed heads many times, but this was one of the few things they would have to work at resolving this issue. But Michael never thought that Rick would have began this 'resolution' at 2:35 A.M.

Sleeping peacefully, Michael was in his typical pajamas--his big old black shirt with his dark red boxers. He was buried under blankets, him burning up but too lazy to undig himself. The echo of footsteps down the hallway made him stir slightly, the door slamming open soon followed by the blinding lights turned on, burning Michael's eyes even through his eyelids.

"Get u--uuurp-up." Rick stated, Michael slowly getting up and rubbing his eyes. He couldn't see anything, feeling around on the night stand until picking up his glasses, putting them on.

"What the..." Michael mumbled, him looking at the clock. "Rick, it's two in the mirning, I'm going back to bed." He tried to lay back down and sleep, but Rick stumbled over. "You smell like whis--have you been fucking drinking?" Michael asked in an annoyed tone.

"Bitch I m--eergg--ight of." Rick dragged Michael out of bed despite his protests.

"Where the fuck are we going?" Michael questioned bitterly, eventually getting to his feet and standing there with his arms crossed.

"Out." Rick replied.

Michael rolled his eyes. "That was helpful," He replied. He turned Rick around before getting dressed in the outfit Rick bought him, him sighing as he put his pen in his jacket pocket. "Fine, lets go." He decided to go and see where Rick was wanting to go.