The President's Secretary (Evil Morty X Reader)

While You Were Away

Morty stands up and locks the office door, wiping his eyes and nose with the back of his hand before walking out of the room for a minute. You're still sitting on the floor, crying.
Morty walks back into the office, carrying two coffee mugs, two pillows and two blankets. He sits in the middle of the office on the carpet and looks at you, wordlessly inviting you to come over. You smile a little bit and crawl over to Morty and sit across from him. He hands you a blanket, a pillow, and a mug. You drape the blanket over your shoulders and sit on the pillow, just like how Morty is sitting. You take a long sip of the mug's contents, which happen to be the best cocoa you've ever tasted.
Morty sips his cocoa and looks up at you.
"{Y/N}... I waited ten years to hear that from you." He says, his voice shaking.
You flinch. "You don't look a day older than when we first met!"
He sighs. "That's because I don't age. None of us do in the Citadel. As long as you're here, you won't either. Right now, we're both technically twenty-four, but we're in fourteen-year-old bodies."
Your eyes widen. "Twenty-four years..." you mutter, then sit up. "What about {SO's/N}? What about my parents?"
"When your parents came back to town,  they called the police and reported you missing. They called off the search party three years later and moved out of state. No one bought your house, so it's abandoned." He pauses, as if he doesn't want to tell you something. "{SO's/N}... they moved on. They're married now. To Jessica."
You choke on the last of your cocoa. You look up at Morty, eyes wide. "M-married!? How do you know?"
Morty rubs his thumb against the smooth ceramic handle of his mug. "Before I ran for president, I used to visit our dimension sometimes. I don't know why I still go there, but I saw the wedding. They looked happy together."
A tear falls from your cheek into your empty mug. Morty reaches over and wipes your eye with his thumb, gently resting his palm on your cheek. You look up from your mug. Before you can process what's happening, Morty's lips are pressed against yours. You wrap your arms around his waist and close your eyes. He pulls away from your lips and opens his eyes. You open your eyes, your face feeling hot. Morty strokes your cheek.
"I think it was obvious that I liked you in the past." He chuckles.
"I feel the same..." you grin. Morty pauses and sighs.
"You want to go home, don't you?" He says.
You nod slowly. "Not for long. I just want to visit."
"I could make that work for you." He stands up and walks to his desk. He opens a drawer and pulls out a portal gun.
You stand up and back away out of fear. It brings back nothing but bad memories. Morty smiles reassuringly.
"It's okay, you don't have to worry." He says as he opens a portal on the wall. He grabs a jacket from a nearby coat hanger and puts it on. Morty extends his hand towards you and your grasp it, standing up off the floor. You tightly hold his hand as he leads you through the portal. When you emerge, you're in the middle of a road on a cold night, and you instantly recognize where you are.
"This... this is my house." You mutter in disbelief. You walk to the front door. Like you've done thousands of times before, you climb up onto the steel railing and reach upwards. You feel around for the loose brick and grab the key sitting on top of it. You hop down and unlock the front door. When you open the door, it's like you went back in time. Everything is in the exact place you left it in. You look around at all the dusty memories and feel tears sting your eyes. You walk into the living room, past the couch with the claw marks from the time you accidentally brought a rabid cat into the house when you were six because you thought it was cute. You run your fingers across the coffee table, its surface still scarred with math equations and manuscripts. You chuckle, remembering how hard you used to press your pencil down on the paper. The dingy white blanket neatly folded on the edge of the couch still has Cheeto dust stains on it. You remember the many times you spilled the bowl out of excitement while watching your favorite sport on the TV with the chip in the glass from the time your dad accidentally fell into it and knocked it down on Christmas Eve. You were the only one that went over to him and asked him if he was okay, while the rest of your family made sure the TV was alright.
You go up to the fireplace and look at the dust-covered mantle. There, sits the urn holding the ashes of your old pet and lifelong companion, the cake topper from your parents' wedding, a framed picture of you when you won first place in the fifth grade writing competition, and a framed family photo. You pick up the family photo and silently stare at it. All of you are dressed identically, smiles beaming. Tears drip onto the glass, washing away some of the dust. You place the photo back on the mantle. You look down and see pine needles scattered across the floor from a Christmas you never got to see.
Morty watches from the doorway as you pick up every last one of your mother's dust coated porcelain snowman figurines. You always complained when she started to put them around the house in the beginning of November.
You sigh at the memories, a puff of visible air escaping your lips. A shiver goes down your spine and your hair stands on end when you realize how cold it is. A blanket of heat covers your shoulders and back. You turn your head and your eyes meet with Morty's, who took off his jacket and put it on your shoulders. You smile and put your arms through the sleeves. Morty reaches for your hand and squeezes it gently.
"I'm here if you need me. We can go whenever you want." He says.
Holding Morty's hand, you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. It's small, but it's yours. The walls were painted your favorite color, but now they're almost faded to white. The instrument you gave up on learning how to play sits in the corner, collecting more dust than usual. Polaroid pictures of you and your friends hang around the room on clothespins and colorful yarn. You look up at one specific photo and take it down from the clothespin. You look at it and show it to Morty. He takes it and looks at it. It's of you two. He smiles and wipes his eye with the back of his hand.
"Can I... bring this back?" You ask. Morty nods. He gives the photo back to you and you put it in your back pocket.
You look at your bed and pick up your most prized possession, your favorite teddy bear. He's white and fluffy and you've had him since you were born. You hug him tightly to your chest. Morty looks at the bear, confused.
"Is that a... blood stain on its head?" He asks.
"Oh yeah, that." You chuckle. "I was getting my first baby tooth pulled out, and I held onto Teddy for dear life. When my dad finally got the tooth out, I started to cry because my mouth was bleeding, and some blood dripped onto Teddy. Mom couldn't get the stain out, no matter how hard she tried."
"Hydrogen Peroxide." Morty states.
"What?"
"Use hydrogen peroxide to get blood stains out of fabric."
"I never thought of that..."
You look up at Morty as you put Teddy back on his throne of pillows. A sharp pang of guilt hits you and you ask Morty a question without thinking.
"Morty... are you really okay with what I did?"
Morty flinches. "{Y/N}... of course I am."
"But... I've seen how close Ricks and Mortys can be! I didn't want to take that from you..."
Morty lets out a long, forlorn sigh. "If there's any truth in the universe... it's that Ricks don't care about their Mortys." He clenches his fist. "None of them do. The bonds you see aren't real. Mortys are just cloaking devices Ricks use to hide from the government. We're nothing but human shields. Nobody should suffer like that. But Mortys still suffer because they don't have a choice.
"Before I became president, I went on a killing spree, murdering Ricks and taking their Mortys. To avoid getting caught, I pinned the crime on other Ricks. I rewired my Rick's neural implants to control his every move. He was my pawn this time. And when I didn't need him anymore, I took pleasure in watching the other Mortys tear him to shreds. I was free."
"Morty..." You mutter.
Morty takes your hand in his hands and looks you in the eyes. "I felt alive once my Rick was dead, and look at me now. I'm the president of the Citadel. What the Citadel needs now is a Morty-dominant society. Ricks are tyrant leaders, using fear as their only tactic. That's not how societies should function. But you and I, we can get rid of every Rick and liberate the Morty population. Together, we can do this."
Your eyes well up with tears. Once it all sinks in, your sadness transforms to determination. You place your hand on top of Morty's and nod.
"I'll help you."

WOW!!! 1,000 reads?!?!? Nani the fuck?! Thank you all soooo much! This profile is still alive because of all of you! I couldn't have done it without you guys!

Until next chapter,
Luci.