Drunk Beginnings (Rick and Morty Fanfiction)

Chapter 19

Author's Note 

4.7k READS I'M SORRY WHAT??!?!?! YOU GUYS I JUST CAN'T WITH YOU Y'ALL ARE THE BEST AUDIENCE A WRITER COULD EVER DREAM FOR I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO SO SO SO SO MUCH

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         I woke up with a start on my air mattress in Summer's room, beads of sweat dotting my forehead.  This was getting extensive, and a little disturbing. I had a nightmare about Anthony being torn in half. Again. Ever since Rick and I sealed our agreement with the Ganadorian people, my night terrors about my family and Anthony resurfaced for some reason. I've had at least 6 nightmares about Anthony being tortured or killed off in some way, each dream more vivid and detailed than the last. This dream we were back in the carnival, the sights and smells almost eerily perfect to how I remember it being when I was there. The air smelled of popcorn salt and the hay covering the bottom of the carnival, but it was soon replaced with the smell of coppery blood and the metallic tang of fear in the back of my mouth. Instead of the carnivorous Vordin tongue monsters murdering the people, it was me killing Anthony. I had a long, almost disgustingly sharp serrated silver blade as long as my forearm and teased Anthony's skin with it, carving out little shapes on his stomach before sawing his midsection in half.  Maybe because I was getting closer to finding out my family's killer and getting revenge on whoever did it? I didn't know, and quite frankly I didn't want to know about it now. I tossed the covers off my bed and raked my lank hair out of my eyes; it was greasy from dream sweats. I needed a shower, and bad, to get my mind off of things for a while. I got up from my mattress and stretched my limbs, waking up for real and getting ready to start the day, wondering what it will bring. 

   The steam billowed out from the shower as I stepped out of it, toweling off my now clean hair. My body felt refreshed, but my mind still felt dirty, like someone splashed my brain in paint. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something like, a warning, or I was missing a harbinger in the bathroom. I decided to brush it off and get dressed, the bathroom getting colder with every passing moment I stood there naked. But with that cold, came a rush of danger, tingles racing down my spine. Something was wrong. I quickly got changed into light blue washed skinny jeans, my maroon Converse and a black oversized sweater with skeleton hands over the chest and raced out of the bathroom, running down the hallway and flying down the stairs. 

   "Rick? Rick?! Where are you-" A loud grunt and a string of cursing were heard outside the house. I bolted over to the door and swung it open to reveal Rick fighting someone. I gasped and run to the edge of the sidewalk, my wet hair in tendrils all over my face. Rick's opponent looked to be much taller and stronger than he was. I rake my hair back and get a clearer look at the scene. A large, chrome silver spaceship was in the background on the street with a drawbridge ready to receive something. Rick was sparring in front of the silver spaceship with a rippling male...dog? The dog had the features of a human, human golden brown eyes and all the expressions a human could make, but its face was none other than a canine's. Its face was long with a dog snout at the end of it instead of a human nose, and it had pointed alert ears on the top of its head. The colors of its coat were the same as a German Shepard; half of its face blonde and the rest a dark brown. It wore body armor and olive green baggy pants with a rolled up collared shirt. Its arms were large and bulging as if it worked out regularly and gained muscle, and those arms were about to punch Rick in the face.  

  "(Y/N)! What are you doing just standing there?! Help me beat up this asshole!" Rick shouted over to me and dodged the dogs hit. The dog was a little taller than Rick and much larger, but Rick was more collected than the dog as if the dog used brute force and put strategy in the back of its mind. The dog growled and flashed his bright white canines before punching Rick in the jaw and seizing one of his wrists to handcuff it. I rushed over and kicked the back of the dog's knee. The officer, I was assuming that was what the canine-humanoid was, winced and looked behind him, glaring at me like I was a disgusting bug.