Burn in Hell | C137cest AU

Loss - Chapter 41

       When the others had left, everybody taking in the fact that Morty was back and readjusting, each recalling - with tears in their eyes - their favorite times with AJ, the brunet was mentally exhausted, simply sitting on the white couch as Rick hurried off to answer his phone he'd left in the library.

       The brunet stared out the glass paneled door, seeing that the sky had darkened slightly and it was sprinkling out. Truth be told, he felt as though the sky mourned with him as he leaned against the back of the couch, staring at the white fibers and thinking of an innocent boy asking if he wanted to play hide and seek the last time they went to the park. Just having those memories back - hard as it was to sit and think about them - made Morty feel significantly better. He was no longer confused, no longer wondering if Summer had a kid or if he had babysat. He just didn't know if he could forgive himself for tossing all of the child's belongings, though, in the long run, that would probably be better in aiding the brunet's recovery. He didn't want to stumble across a toy one day and just break down in the laundry room. No. He decided being rid of most of the triggering belongings would be beneficial, lying somewhat to himself just to feel better. 

       After they had been subjected to nonstop questions, Morty couldn't help but wonder what this meant, glad for anything that took his mind off of his tot and stopped him from settling into a state of constant mourning. He didn't think he could handle that right now, knowing everything was far too much all at once. He felt like this was all a fairytale, wondering if Rick had stirred up the memories when they had spent time in the club, or if it was purely coincidence. He chose against the latter, deciding he wanted his own fairytale. He wanted to pretend life could be that sweet, that kind, not evil and destructive and absolute hell.

       Rick was genuinely amazed when the brunet had gone on a spiel about how they had been doing whatever it was they did, when Al had asked if they'd been doing their thing the whole time he'd been trying to get them together, and Morty had seen that. He had seem how that had affected Rick, like he was glad to have that out in the open; like seeing Morty say it like he every intention of fixing that had made the man's heart nearly burst. And the brunet had adored that. He had let go of everything he knew for a minute and had focused on what he'd seen, had let go of his anger and resentment for a short while and just had at it. He had spoke like he and Rick had the best tale of romance ever, when in all actuality it was strenuous beyond belief. 

       "Hey." Morty was pulled from his thoughts, peering up to see Rick standing a short distance away from the couch he sat on. "Do you want a ride home? It's sprinkling out and you really don't have much to walk in." Morty heard faint laughter in his words, though Rick seemed a little skeptical. The man rubbed his arm lightly once he tucked his phone away and Morty could read uncertainty in every one of his actions. Morty glanced at the clock on Rick's end table. It was nearly ten at night. 

       "Uh," Morty shifted lightly before he stood, giving a short nervous chuckle, though there was no reason for him to be such, "if you don't m-mind." Why was his stutter coming back like this? 

       Rick shook his head with a gentle smile. "It ain't no problem, kid." 

       They had gone from affection to . . . whatever the hell this was. Was that-- Had it all been a show? What even was this?

       Morty stood awkwardly, both of them staring expectantly at the other. It was, again, Rick who broke the silence. "Do you wann-- When do you wanna leave?" Morty shrugged, "Whenever. I, uh. . . I don't have anybody waiting for m-me anymore, s-so. . ." The brunet was taken aback by his own slight voice crack, the muscles of his face moving slightly before he felt the sting at the back of his nose and behind his eyes, taking a stabilizing breath before he began to cry again. Rick had very obviously taken notice, making his way towards the brunet and gathering him up in his arms as he had done all evening. Maybe it was all supposed to just be comfort, and Morty had read the signals wrong all evening.