Morty woke up to his phone vibrating rapidly on the nightstand besides him. It wouldn't be a problem usually, but glancing over at it, it was three in the goddamn morning. Morty needed his sleep, and tonight was no different. He'd think he'd be used to waking up at ungodly hours, but he proved himself wrong.
Sighing, he reached over for the phone only for it to vibrate again. Five messages lit up on his screen, all by someone he both expected and didn't expect at the same time.
"hey morty wake the fucj up"
"i dont wang to get up and go kver there"
"if i go over therw your e never going to sleep again"
"morty i need you right nwo in my room"
"right now means rihht now morty"
Groaning to himself he slid the phone on his nightstand, rubbing the side of his face. He didn't necessarily want to go and face Rick, not now, but it seemed like if he didn't he'd regret it. His phone vibrated again so he stood.
He stretched, listening intently to the pitter patter of his footsteps as he made his way to Rick's room. It was dead silent and Morty was afraid for a moment that something would pop out and kill him, or maybe Rick was pulling a prank on him and in a few moments he really won't be able to sleep again.
He was proven wrong when he stepped into Rick's room and found him sitting at the edge of his bed, looking utterly miserable in the dim light the moon was providing through a window. It wasn't much of a change in Morty's mind from how he usually behaved, but alarm bells went off the moment he realized Rick was crying.
He wasn't sure what to do, but knew enough to close and lock the door and slide over to sit down next to him.
Rick wasn't looking at him but his knee was bouncing anxiously up and down, arms crossed over his stomach. He looked like a child; it made Morty feel sick.
"Rick?" Morty tried hesitantly.
"Took you long enough," he spat out, sounding more anxious or quiet than aggressive. "I've been up for forty m-minutes, feeling like u-utter shit."
Morty watched him intently, a little afraid at the turn of events and his brutal honesty. He sounded genuinely hurt, open and bare and he didn't know how to handle it. He knew Rick wasn't completely heartless and dead, he knew, but it was shocking nonetheless. Rick was shaking, even, trembling through every breathe.
"I-I-I'm sorry, Rick."
There was a fleeting moment of silence when Morty brought a hand to wrap around his grandfather's shoulder, and then Rick was leaning into Morty and they were hugging; Rick was shaking with almost silent sobs, all trapped in the younger's shoulder. Morty went slack and let him be used for comfort.
Morty swallowed thickly and shushed Rick in an attempt to be comforting, which only resulted in his trembling getting worse; he decided that muttering "It's fine, e-e-everything is okay," was a better alternative.
Rick was cold where he rubbed at his back and gripped his shirt. It was pleasant and had Rick leaning into his hand while also trying to lean into his body- Morty guessed that he didn't know where to go. He didn't blame him- he didn't know either.
"I-I-I'm exhausted, Morty. I can't sleep. I d-don't want another n-nightmare. I need you- I need you here, I don't want to see you- I don't want to see you d-die again."
Morty had to strain his ears to hear Rick under his trembling voice and mumbling, but just hugged his grandfather closer around the waist.
"I-It'll be okay. Everything- Everything will be okay. I p-promise."
Rick sniffled and his hands shook where they held the younger's shirt collar.
"Stay here. Pl-Please."
Hearing his grandfather beg for anything was new, and had him gaping into the dark room. This was the smartest man in the universe, the Rickest Rick of them all, the one who could collapse entire worlds and figure out how teleportation works in a matter of minutes, who, even at times like this, knew exactly what to do. He was about twenty steps ahead of everybody constantly, but.. Morty felt lightheaded at the realization of how raw and sincere this moment was.
Ultimately, Morty felt burning tears collect in his eyes when he whispered, "Yeah, Rick. I'm n-n-not going anywhere," and helped Rick lay down so he could hug his grandfather's side and hold his hand. Rick was still crying, and his heart throbbed dully when warm tears fell above his head; his breathing was shaky where Morty's head rested on his chest.
Every so often, Rick's hand tightened over his own- he mumbled something incoherent into Morty's hair, leaving him to shush him, trying to speak in the smoothest voice he can muster when he says:
"I'm not going anywhere."
