For Your Flesh Do My Curtains Part.

Love over Life

Rick had always believed that love hit you hard. Square in the face like a fist in a bar fight. One swift, short shock of intensity and you spent the next few weeks with bruises on your face, slowly fading until nothing was left but a bitter memory. Now he just had first-had experience to confirm his theory. He was driving his spaceship slowly along a dirt trail road in Utah, passing the diners and saloons - yes, he knew they weren't really called saloons anymore but he liked to feel like a cowboy sometimes, don't judge - with Stanley in the passenger side glaring out the window, Rick with a cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. "Are-Are we every g-gonna talk about this or are you just gonna keep moUUURRRPPPping around, huh Lee?" he asked, turning to his partner with a sour look.

For the bar fight analogy was more relevant than it seemed; Rick had just paid one thousand dollars to bail Stanley out of a county jail for clouting a guy over the head in the nearby bar. Unfortunately that guy just happened to be the sheriff's brother. "Nothing ta talk about Rick," Stanley growled. "Just get us home huh? We.ve been run outta this dumb town, don't have long to pack up an' leave,"

"No, we haven't been run out of this town. Lee," Rick skidded to a stop in the deserted road, tires kicking up sand. "You've been run out of this town. You know the Flesh Curtains had a gig tomorrow night right? You

're costing us money with all the shit you do, money we need to stay on the road together,"

"Oh, you're blamin' me?!" Stanley growled, getting right up in Rick's face, their noses pressed together, all love gone from his eyes and replaced by pure vitriol. Rick tried no to show his fear, such fear he had of the man he should have felt nothing but love for. "It's you that drove me to that damn bar in the first place! A' you cant say shit-all to me about my drinkin' Rick, you're practically the king a' DUIs!" his voice grew lower now, no longer yelling but a calm growl that made Rick cower even further away. "You're a fucking joke, Rick Sanchez,"

"A-Actually," this could have been mistaken for Rick's normal stutter, but it wasn't/ His normal stutter was a sign of confidence, this stutter was a sign of pure uncertainty. A situation he couldn't control. "The genetic biosynthesis of molecules in the body suggest the humour is-"

He never got a finish. A fist flying in his face, the cracking of his jaw and teeth flying, clattering against the car window. Blood pouring from Rick's mouth, Stanley leaning back in shock, his knuckled covered in blood. It was his turn to stutter, feeling horrible as he saw what he had just done. Tears filled his eyes and he scanned the glove box for a first aid kit. "R-Rick, I-"

"Get put,"

"Huh?"

"Get out the fucking car Stanley Pines!" Rick shoved him put the car, which Stanley went compliantly. Rick closed the door behind him and threw the keys to their motel out into the sand. "See you back at the motel," he stated, the car taking off again at breakneck speed.

That night, Stanley sat in the lounge of their small morel room and cried, burying his face into one of Rick's shirts. He couldn't be sure when the brunette was coming back, or even if he was coming back, but this was al the comfort he could take right now. Was this how Rick felt? This uncertainty. Although Stanley could control this, he had to. He couldn't subject Rick to anymore of this. In the month since they had fucked for the first time, this had been the third time Rick had to bail him out, the second - and worst - time he had raised his hands at him, the first time had left Rick with a black eye, this time lost teeth and for all he knew a broken jaw. Stanley knew he was a ticking time bomb and Rick was in the blast range. He made a decision.

The motel door creaked open, Rick carrying bags from the local convenience store, snack foods ready for their next trip outside town. Flicking the light on he saw Stanley sitting in the chair, crying, gripping his shirt. "Oh Lee..." Rick said, his eyes softening. "What the fuck have we become?"

"Not 'we' Rick. Like you said, everything's all my fault," Stanley growled, walking over to the bed and closing his suitcase.

"Lee I didn't mean-!"

"No Rick. You were right. I'm just gonna jeep hurting you, real bad next time. I'm leavin' Ricardo, so get outta my way or do you want our final goodbye to involve you losin' more teeth?"

Rick just stood, dumbfounded, against the door, the object between Stanley and the door which, if walked through, would mean never seeing him again. Love made people d crazy things, Rick always believed that, and this was one of those times. Logic went out the window, and if Rick were to observe the scene playing out in front of him he would have hung his head in shame for acting so irrationally. Especially when he was completely sober. Rick grabbed one f the beer bottles on the side table, smashed it off the wall and pressed one of the shards against his neck. "You aren't fucking leaving,"

It was Stanley's turn to look dumbfounded at he bottle. "Rick...what the..."

"You pull me away from the door this shard will accidently sever my jugular. I'll bleed out in fuckin' minutes. You try to fight me, approach me, anything it wont be an accident. I love you Lee, you aren't fucking leaving me,"

Stanley was shaking now, feeling his heart pound in his chest, mouth dry, tears coming through his eyes. "Okay, Rick, okay. I won't leave I wont. I promise Rick just...just put that thing down huh...?"

"Okay," Rick agreed, setting it down o the floor slowly, carefully, casting weary glances at Stanley. Once it was down, Rick stood back up. "Where we heading to tomorrow?" he asked, as if nothing had even happened.

St5abbley gulped, his body numb, the shock not even set in yet. "H-How bout Vancouver? I g-got this great new idea for cheap vacuum cleaners,"

Rick nodded, his face devoid of emotion, blank. "Vancouver it is., Come on, it's late. I'm not driving tired, Lee,"

"O-Of course not, Rick, hehe," Stanley laughed nervously.

"Come to bed with me?" Rick asked, before his face fell again. "Or are you goUUURRRPPPing to anther bar tonight?"

"Of course am comin' ta' bed with you," Stanley scolded, getting in with Rick and wrapping his arms around him. "I do love ya' Rick ,you know that. The only reason I was gonna leave was-"

"Well you aren't fucking leaving now, so there's no point in talking about it," Rick snarled, wriggling out of Stanley's embrace. "I love you too, though," 

Author's Note: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! I just...thought this would be a good dynamic for this story, their relationship, given their personalities, would eventually mean domestic violence. I'm sorry I promise this will have a happy ending promise! Oh and as for the development of the story, Rick is the weaker partner physically so it's only understandable that he'd have to get creative to have some leverage over Stan. Stan has always been an emotional character in the show, showing his extremely soft side. It makes sense that he'd immediately take Rick's bait. I cant say these next few chapters are going to be happy in their own right, but the ending will be I promise!