Burn in Hell | C137cest AU

Photographs and Sketches - Chapter 21

       Morty sighed and looked at his dining room table, wondering what to do with everything that currently covered it. There were pictures of people he didn't really know, photos of him with those people, documents Morty didn't understand, sketches that only a child could have drawn, and a lot of kid toys. He had recently disassembled all of the furniture in the child's room, as it was best described, not knowing what all to do with it. So, for now, he stored it outside, in the small shed he hadn't really used, from the looks of it.

      There were several men in the photos, people Morty had seen in town before. He also found a box of pictures he must have printed off himself, pictures of the blue haired man he sees in everything he owns, photo wise. There were pictures of him with the kid that looked like Morty, too. Why had he put them all in boxes in the bottom of his closet? He didn't understand himself right now.

       And there was a child's lion with him, and a bowtie, that his sister said she'd removed when he woke up and almost forgot to return. They were sitting with the brunet's other belongings that lined the table. 

       And his texts were weird. His contacts, some messages he'd get from people asking about meeting time. It got so weird Morty wound up deactivating that phone and getting a new number. But, on the old phone, Morty wondered what bears meant, and why he had both 'Dad' and 'Daddy' in his phone. It was weird. 

       The texts from the 'Daddy' contact were strange, too. Obscene and vulgar, as well as very unlike the brunet. He was almost ashamed when he scrolled way up in their message history and found that he had sent provocative messages at some point. And the other man had done the same. Morty had learned it was a man after witnessing several photos of his, ahem, 'lower regions'.

       So, to say Morty was relieved to have a new number would be a severe understatement. He was absolutely enthralled to be rid of the strange messages and all of it. But he was apparently a very fun person at some point, though it seemed he argued with several people over text. Constantly. Especially that 'Daddy' person. 

       Morty continued to go over everything in front of him, wondering what he was supposed to do with it all. Maybe he could put it all in one box? Or he could sell the kid toys, box up the drawings and photos and store them in the shed with everything else? That would be nice. Plus it would free up the room for a study of sorts. Or a mini workout area. Morty would love to be able to have his own room for yoga and maybe dance lessons of some sort. He'd always wanted to learn how to dance. But that was for another day.

       With a huff, Morty grabbed a nearby box, stacking the drawings beneath the photos and documents before placing it in the back shed. When he walked back into the house, the table was already fairly cleared. He just had bears and Spongebob characters. 

       "I d-don't think an-anyb-body would want these," Morty muttered, looking at the toys. There were all sort of worn and, really, gross. With a scowl, Morty grabbed a garbage bag and swept the toys in. The strange little lion and bow tie were tossed in after a moment of consideration, and the brunet began tying the bag up.

      "O-Oops," Morty chuckled, opening the bag up once more. He tossed a bear he had missed into it and tied the bag, deciding to place that within another to prevent tearing of any sort. Once that bag was taken to Morty's bins, the brunet had another thought. 

       He made his way into his room, digging under his bed again. When he was certain he had everything out from beneath the frame, he counted it all, setting each box on his bed. There were a lot of adult toys that he didn't even know existed, really, and the brunet wasn't sure how comfortable he felt throwing them all away, just because somebody could go through his bins and find them all. Plus it would be a waste of money.

       With a sigh, Morty found a blue tote bin and loaded everything into it, shoving the bin way into the back of his closet. "Please don't let anybody find this," he whispered quietly, shutting his closet door after a moment.

       Once Morty had taken care of everything - ridding himself of the air mattress in the living room, clothes that definitely weren't his, and ensuring the childish belongings were all gone, clothes and shoes included - Morty sighed. He'd already run out of things he could do. His house was tidy, the room was cleaned out.

       Ooh! That gave Morty an idea! Very quickly, the brunet grabbed his laptop, opening it up and unlocking it. It was strange. The last time he remembered having his laptop, he was in his room, and it was bogged down with malware. But now it was running very smoothly. Oh well, no complaints there.

       Morty logged onto a bank site, grabbing his card from his wallet. The process was confusing, but the brunet eventually got it, having to reset his password because he couldn't think of it. Of course, when he went to reset the password, he got the notification: password cannot be the same as one already in use, and the brunet rolled his eyes, logging in with a light laugh. At least he used the classic passcode. His great grandpa Jay's birthdate. March first, 1937. Of course, his password couldn't be all numbers, and he needed punctuation, so he had set it up differently. C, because it was the third letter and March was the first month, a hyphen to separate the month and the day/year, and 137, for the first and '37. So, C-137 was his account passcode.

       "Whoa!" Morty exclaimed, looking into his bank account. He had hundreds of thousands saved up! "What di-did I do for a l-living?!" The brunet grinned as he shut everything down, looking at his card before tucking it back into his wallet. "Alright," he mumbled, walking back towards the room. "Wh-what color?" Looking around, Morty considered the size of the room, and the placement of the window. 

       When it came down to it, Morty liked the idea of white walls and black furniture, with maybe a painting or two to add just a touch of color. He liked how tidy that sounded, but white walls kind of scared him.

       "O-Oh well," Morty chuckled, walking back out of his house. There was a bike in his back yard, leaning against his house, with his name painted on the side, so Morty decided that would be fun. So, after attaching a wagon that looked as though a child could fit in it for a ride, Morty made his way back to town, hoping he could remember how to get there and where the hardware store was.

       Rick sat by himself at the club, watching the newest addition to his teams. A rugged-featured bartender, Daegon, worked behind the bar, filling in Morty's spot. There was a new dancer, too. Charlee. Rick wasn't particularly fond of either of them, but that didn't matter. Business wasn't booming, but it was still okay. The club was holding strong. The bouncers had already informed the dancers of Morty's situation. Gary had held a meeting for Rick, telling them all that if they were to see Morty, they didn't know him. The kid wouldn't remember anything, and they were not to approach him or try anything at all unless they kept in mind that he had no idea who they are or what he did. That was the evening bouncers and dancers alike cried over a drink, courtesy of a man trying to ease the struggle of losing Morty a second time.

       Rick didn't think anything would hurt worse than Morty hating him, but knowing that the kid didn't even know him anymore tore him apart worse than anything else he could think of.