A Drop of Rain

The Most Unlucky Fuck-up

Friday-

Morty yelped as his back was slammed hard against a locker, the combination lock digging painfully into his spine. His feet dangled uselessly in the air trying to kick, to find anything, anything, flat to stand on.

Brad was holding him up by the caller of his jacket- oh why oh why did he chose to zip it up today of all days?! The one day that he could have used an easy escape from Brad, he just happened to zip up his jacket because he was fucking cold! And now he had no quick escape. If he hadn't zipped up, he would have easily been able to slip out of his jacket and book it down the hallway. But no. He just had to be the most unlucky fuck-up to ever exist.

"Got any lunch money?" Brad leaned in close, his rotten breath causing Morty to scrunch up his nose. His hands were clawing uselessly at Brads, failing to make the bigger teen loosen his death grip. Moments like these really made Morty think that all the adventures he went on tuned out to be a waste of time. He couldn't even handle himself against Brad.

How can he kill countless aliens in the middle of a battle, but not fend off bullies at school?! It just didn't make any sense. He needed to change that. He could handle this. Fucking... fix it, you dumbass. You can get out of this. Just fucking try. If he can fight aliens, he can fight a stupid teenage jock at school. Morty gathered some spit in his mouth before spitting it back in Brads face.

The larger teen flinched back, dropping Morty, and making disgusted sounds as he wiped at his spit-covered face. Mortys knees almost buckled underneath him from the fall, but years of practice helped him catch his balance. "Suck my balls, Brad!" Morty yelled, flipping him the bird with both hands before bolting down the hallway.

Morty could hear Brad shouting at him as he chased him down the hall, but he couldn't quite distinguish what he was hearing through the blood rushing in his ears. He needed to hide, because outrunning Brad was not an option.

Morty was weak, because not only was he sleep deprived, but he didn't have much food in him. Every time they had normal food for dinner, he barely picked at it. Fatigue was already hitting him, and he was only halfway down the hall. Fuck.

But back to being the most unlucky fuck-up to ever exist, Morty just happened to trip over his own goddamn two feel, and fall face first into the floor, right as he made a turn around the corner. God fucking damn it! Brad was on him in seconds, not even giving the smaller teen a chance to get up.

Brad yanked his arm, holding onto it tight enough to leave a bruise, and flipped him over so that he was on his back. Morty had noticed then that a circle of nosey classmates had formed around them. He almost rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance, but decided against it because there were more pressing matters- like, the fact that Brad was on top of him, pinning him down.

"You think that's funny, do you? Huh?" Brad snarls, once again leaning close enough for Morty to smell his putrid breath. He distantly wondered how Jessica managed to kiss him without throwing up.

Morty, for some reason, was sickeningly calm right now. That's what scared him the most right now. Maybe the adventuring made him desensitized to simply getting beat up by some kid at school? He had been through worse, so that actually wasn't surprising. It was still a little scary and weird that he wasn't terrified right now. He was actually more annoyed than terrified. "Oh, yeah, t-totally hilarious Brad. Do you hear how much I'm laughing right now?" Morty sneers. "Ha. Ha. Ha."

"You little punk!" Brad shouts, slugging Morty in the jaw. Really? Did he really just punch him in the face? While he's pinned to the ground, not even struggling to get away? Seriously? It wasn't even a good punch- it hardly hurt at all. But still, he's laying on the ground, not even moving, completely and utterly defenseless, and Brad still fucking punches him in the damn face?

Morty glared up at him defiantly. "H-how fun is it b-beating up a defenseless kid, Brad?" He mocks, even daring to smirk at him a little. Morty had no fucks given, apparently.

Brad punched him two more times, and Morty saw stars (not in the good way). His vision swayed a bit before he could focus back on Brads face. Great, now his face was going to hurt for the next fucking week. Fucking great. Fantastic. Fuck.

Oh, and great. His eyes were watering. He was about to fucking cry. 'How pathetic.' It was almost like Rick's voice was ringing in his head. 'Toughen up,' 'Stop being a baby,' 'Are you seriously crying right now?!' 'Grow up! It was just a punch!'

Brad started yelling obscenities at him, but Morty tuned him out. He tuned out the shocked and panicked yelling of the audience that had formed around them. He tuned out everything around him. He didn't stop tuning everything out even when Brad punched him a couple more times.

He didn't stop tuning things out until he heard the oh-so-familiar sound of Summers voice, as it broke through the foggy haze of a wall he had built around himself. He had never been so happy to hear her voice before. He snapped out of his daze, looking up at his sister who had just forced her way through the crowd. She shoved Brad off of Morty, and slapped him right across the face, causing the jock to stumble back. "YOU FUCKING SICK SON OF A BITCH! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" She yelled, poking Brads chest repeatedly in pure rage.

"Summer..." Morty wheezed out, forcing his body to sit up. But his sister didn't seem to hear him. Her focus was dead set on Brad at the moment.

Brad had a shocked look on his face, a hand held to the cheek where Summer had slapped him. Summer and Brad were kind of friends, from what Morty had gathered in the past. He'd seen them hang out before- so he could understand the shocked look on Brads face. It was good to know Summer would choose him over some of her friends.

"STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BROTHER, BRAD!" Summer yelled, kicking him right where the sun doesn't shine. Brad doubled over in pain, hands on his crotch, screaming out in agony. The crowd around them let out "ohhh"'s and "OMG, I CANT BELIEVE SHE JUST DID TO BRAD!"'s. But Summer wasn't done there. She kicked him again, this time in the ribs, and he toppled over onto the ground. And holy shit, Morty almost started laughing when he noticed that Brad was crying. The most popular jock in the school- supposedly the "toughest" guy in the school- was sobbing, curled up on the floor, clutching his crotch in pain. And it was a girl that did it to him. A fucking girl. Summer Smith. His sister. HIS sister made BRAD cry because he was beating the shit out of Morty. Summer's the best sister in the fucking multi-verse.

Summer then turned to her brother, yanking him up by the arm (much more gently than Brad had yanked him) and dragged him though the crowd of people. People were cheering. For who, Morty didn't know. Most likely Summer.

Summer dragged Morty into an empty classroom and shut the door behind them. "Oh my god, are you okay?!" She says, turning to her little brother and inspecting the growing bruises along his cheek and jawline. "That son of a bitch! I can't believe him! I'm never talking to that jackass again! Are you okay?!"

Morty shrugged at her, ignoring the fact that she asked him the same question twice. "I-I-I guess I'm fine now. I-Im so glad you showed up... I- oh geez..." Morty stumbled forward a bit, but Summer caught him. He was a little disoriented from being punched in the face a bunch of times.

"Shit." Summer says, worry lacing in her voice. Her rage dissipated at once at the sight of her brother struggling to keep on his own two feet. She could kick Brad's ass some more later- Morty's the priority right now. "Do... do you need me to take you to a hospital?" She began leading Morty to one of the desk chairs to sit him down.

"W-w-w-what?! No! I-It's not that bad, Summer!" Morty shakes his head. "I-I just... I-I think I need... I need to sit down for rest of the day... h-he hit me pretty hard..."

"I can take you home?" Summer offers, looking at her little brother expectantly.

"Y-yeah..." Morty says. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea..."

**

Beth, Jerry, and Conroy didn't even question their presence when they returned home early. Summer helped patch Morty up to the best of her abilities, and they parted ways. After dinner, Morty hid in his room until breakfast the next morning. Once again, it was a sleepless night.