The Diary

:(2):

"Oh, for eugh fucks sake." My head was absolutely throbbing when I sat up, leaning back in my desk with a heavy groan. "Too much, or-or eugh or not enough?" I grabbed my flask from beside me, annoyed with it being empty. I stood, the floor swirling slightly, and made my way into the house. Alcohol first, lab coat second.

The clock on the microwave flashed 1:47. AM or PM? Obviously it was fucking AM. It was dark as all getout.

Climbing the stairs, I was hit with a wave of realization. I had forgotten Morty left. I had forgotten what had happened. "Fucking eugh weirdo." Shrugging into my lab coat, I saw my diary poking out from a pile of random shit I'd thrown on top of it.

If you tell anybody I keep a diary, I'm coming for you.

I grabbed it, flinching at the sound of everything falling from on top of it, and snatched up a pen, scribbling the date into the nearest open page.

I wrote only one sentence. Morty kissed me before leaving for college.

The heavy sound of the book snapping shut cut through the silent air, the pen's soft click nothing in comparison to the thunderous noise. All too quickly, the manly journal was thrusted to the rolling chair in front of the desk, my lab coat flapping wildly behind me as I bolted down the stairs.

I had nearly forgotten to see what the hell it was that Morty saw, almost forgotten to find another shitty Morty to figure out how to make my Morty stop. Morty, Morty, Morty. Great. Now I can't get the little shit outta my head. He'd looked so hurt when he left, he looked so damn broken. It's not my fucking problem. He did it to himself. But I couldn't help feeling the slightest bit guilty. Quickly, I shook my head, hooking the portal gun up to the charging dock for a moment. He should've been ready for me to reject him. Sure, I got nothing wrong with doing guys. But not my own grandson.

It had never been more than an accidental passing thought, a 'what if'. But I'd always shake it away, a feeling in the pit of my stomach making me queasy. "G-eugh gross." The portal gun made a soft ringing sound, finished charging. "Thank everything for my genius design."

I made my way through the history, searching around. Let's see. He had enough charge to go through another dimension before returning, so why didn't he? Did he find his answer in the last dimension he visited? Maybe I'll find my answer there, too.

With a small beep, the device locked the coordinates in, opening a portal to this dimension. "Oh shi- eugh shiiiiit. Dimension C-132. Of course, that passionate eugh doofus."

It wasn't hard to navigate, I'd been here before. Once, when I'd had to exchange Morty's. We'd gotten ours mixed up once before.

Is that when it happened?! Shit!

I found a familiar house, walking up and pounding on the door relentlessly. A very disgruntled Morty answered, shirtless and covered in hickies and bite marks. "Oh my eugh G-God," I grumbled, pushing past. I found C-132 in, basically, the same situation. "Je-sus, you two." C-132 stood, pulling his shirt on quickly. His Morty just wandered off. Loud clanks could be heard from the kitchen.

132 called out, "You alright, babe? I can come help!" Another softer clank rang out, "Y-Yea, I-I'm fine."

"So," Rick sat down, nodding once he'd received a positive response, "what brings you here, 137? Hiding out?"

Rick knew 132 would never turn him in. He was too much of a lovey-type Rick, not too big on war and rebellion. His Morty didn't really care. "Well, eugh I had a-a-a problem... with my Morty."

This dumbass had the goofiest grin, draping one arm over the back of the couch we were on, "What kind of problem? If he needs his space, y-" I raised my hand quickly, "Please, I eugh I don't wanna get sick. That's pretty gross. I-I-I mean, yea, eugh I don't care what you do with your Morty. It makes me eugh me personally sick, but whatever. Anyways, you do you, guy. He uh," I twiddled my thumbs, uncomfortable with talking to this dipshit, "he left for college today. After... after kissing me." I whispered the last part, grimacing.

The grin stretched from eye to eye and his Morty walked in, wiping dish water off on a towel. "He-He really d-did it?" His eyes were full of wonder, just like my Morty, even though this one was younger. I grimaced harder, feeling the disgust building up within me.

I don't care if it's 'normal' for it to happen, I'm not fucking doing it. It's wrong and fucking disgusting.

"Yes, he did. eugh And-And he hates me, but I'm not eugh ab-about to fall in love with my grandson, no-normality eugh be damned." 132's expression went softer, his Morty looking at him sadly.

"Well," he began, "this little doll here thought I hated him after, and it broke him. But," he pulled his Morty against him, "we're here now. He got over it. Your Morty doesn't need to be in an active relationship with you to get over it. He'll understand eventually, though I know you're aware of the consequences. Your Morty will leave you and move on with somebody else, leaving you with no choice but to find a new Morty." His Morty looked down once more, probably upset that he was replaceable. Join the club, you little shit.

"It's just natural for a Rick to want to be with his Morty. They're around each other so long, and one usually winds up falling for the other. Eventually, they find themselves in the happiest relationship ever. And it's easier on the Rick when it comes to bringing Morty's on adventures, though harder with the never-ending urge to protect them. But you rejected yours. You refuse to follow the order. That's what makes you your own Rick, 137. But you'll lose something eventually. Either your Morty, or your hatred for the inevitable relationship that ensues. One already fell, the other just needs to open his eyes." 132 sat up after his long-winded speech, pulling his Morty into his lap.

"You might wanna hurry and get out. We were in the middle of something." Morty's face went absolutely red and he buried himself in his Rick's neck. 132 growled and I almost lost whatever I ate last.

"Yea, eugh whatever. Bye." I made my way back to my garage, the portal shutting behind me and taking the nastiness with it.

"I refuse to fall for my Morty. It just... god damnit it isn't right. I can't do eugh do that. I-" I ran my hands through my hair, tugging on it, "I can't eugh fucking do that!" The scream wrenched itself from my throat, surprising me. I never got this frustrated.

"Dad?!" The door burst open and Beth walked in, followed by a curious imbecile. "Sorry, eugh sweetie. Just... just a little frustrated. I'm going to bed." She and Jerry were in their pajamas. It was now 3AM, and I felt like shit for waking them up.

Yawning, Beth dragged Jerry back to their rooms, "Night, dad."

"night..."

I slipped up into my room, laying on my bed and watching shadows dance, cast from passing headlights on the street.

I sat up through the entire night, "I can't. Why don't they un-understand?"