You're soaring through space, the cruiser wobbling occasionally, due to the inexperienced driver. Though it was better than a drunk one, nausea still crept up your throat from the bumpy motion.
Rick had gotten drunk with Squanchy, which made him even more unfit to steer the sad excuse of a space ship. Every time the cruiser wobbled, creaks and sharp screeches would echo throughout the inside, bouncing off the metallic walls, threatening to collapse with each second.
You cringe as another horrible noise sounds, like nails on a chalkboard. You cover your ears, as you curl up into a ball in the passenger's seat. Rick is sitting in the back, well more like drunkenly sleeping.
Morty keeps a trembling hand at the wheel, well, actually both hands. He carefully holds the wheel still, occasionally losing grip and turning the wheel off course and causing the ship to wobble. He corrects himself immediately and apologizes.
"It's okay," you state, tired of saying the same thing over and over again as an apologetic response, responding to his apology.
Morty groans and lays his head gently on the steering wheel.
"What's wrong?" You query.
"I-I just feel so stupid!"
"Why?"
"I got y-you into this! And you h-have to de-deal with my terrible driving all th-the way back."
You stare at the ground, awkwardly unsure of what to say.
"I-I can drive," you suggest, simply joking.
Morty sits bolt upright and you give him a questioning look.
"Really?" Morty asks, enthusiastically.
"I don't know about a space ship. But, yes, I can drive a car," you finish.
"Y-you try!"
Morty stands up and steps behind the driver's seat, still holding the wheel with one hand. You slowly climb under his arm and sit in the driver's seat, taking the wheel from Morty, who then gets into the passenger's seat.
You have the same trouble as Morty does and you doubt your capabilities, saying, "I don't think this is a good idea."
"I-it's a great idea!"
You groan with uncertainty.
"O-or. . . If you really don't w-w-want to," Morty stumbles.
You sigh with pity and shake your head.
"No, it's okay. I'll still drive."
"W-w-w-well! If y-you insist!" Morty teases.
You give a giggle and again, shake your head. Morty offers a simple, "heh."
Rick's moan of pain is audible through the bursts of unpleasant laughter. You quickly turn your head and glance at Rick, who turns in his sleep. You swiftly return your sight to the windshield as the cruiser rocks, an effect of you not keeping your eyes locked on the empty space about you.
Morty jumps slightly and now it's your turn to apologize for your bad driving.
"Sorry," you chuckle.
"L-l-auuuggghhh-like sorry's gonna ma-mauuugggghhke me fall as-asleep!" Rick complains, announcing his awakening.
Morty sighs, "Rick, she's trying. Sh-she's better than me."
"Yeah. Pff. Noooaauuuggghhhh shit."
You roll your eyes and search Morty for an upset look. Morty only does the same as you, rolls his eyes and brushes it off.
You give a small smile, knowing Morty's okay. . . For now. . .
