Goodbye to the Good Times

2/2

A//N: Major Character Death, Implied/Mentioned Suicidal Thoughts, Cont. Implied Rape of a Minor

As Morty lie curled up in his bed, his chest hurt. It was the middle of the night and he was used to waking up to his grandfather's incoherent ramblings about getting some sort of supply for his science, but he had been avoiding Rick and flat out refusing to go with him.
Out of habit, however, he was awake at this time. He clutched his blanket close to his face, feeling the warm air that came out of his nose go right back in his face.
The boy shut his eyes, taking in the nothingness that lied behind his closed eyelids. It would hardly last, because he hated to sleep, and he hated to dream.
Every time he did, he dreamt of him.
By now, shouldn't have he been over it? Granted, it had happened, but it had been a little over a month now and it was over.
Still, his dreams were plagued by those beady black eyes admiring his bruised body and his bony, dry hands roaming all over. The way he used him, as if he wasn't even a person. He had ruined every part of him. There wasn't a single part of Morty's body that had been left untouched.
After what had happened, the boy sat in the stall, traumatized. His face was buried in his hands, sobs racking fiercely throughout his chest without tears. He felt so dirty. The rotten smell of sugar stayed on his clothes despite how much he tried to wash it.
As he looked at himself in the mirror, scanning himself for any visible injuries, he looked at his blue eye.
It was the same eye that belonged to Rick.
He felt disgust and he looked away from his glass eye. He longed to cover it up so that nobody could ever see it again, because the man who that eye belonged to was the reason that this had happened to Morty.
It was all Rick's fault.
Home life was horrible. Beth was happy, Jerry was annoyed and Summer couldn't care less either way. Not one of them seemed to notice how hurt Morty was.
Rick seemed more distant too, showing up less and less to take Morty out on adventures, until he no longer showed up at all.
The boy didn't miss it.
One night, as he brushed his teeth, preparing for bed, the boy gazed at himself in the mirror. He loathed himself.
His weak self that wanted nothing more than to shrivel up and die.
The boy gazed at his blue eye-- no, Rick's blue eye-- and shuddered, remembering what had happened after that horrible night.
He had woken up in the garage, on a cot. His limbs felt numb, but he quickly sat up, groaning as the blood rushed from his head.
"What-- how long was I--?" Morty asked, looking around. His memory was foggy from the night before, but his head ached. He buried the right side of his head into his hands, and he noticed the appendage that covered his right eye. "Wait-- what's in my eye?"
He began to peel it open, but was cut off by his grandfather. "I wouldn't touch that if I were you. If-- if you do, I can't guarantee you won't get brain damage."
Morty quickly pulled his finger away from the appendage that covered his eye. "B-brain damage?!"
"See, after you fucking... after you pissed me off, I got an idea. So after I-- ahem-- hurt your eye..." Rick began to explain. Morty winced at his words, his memory no longer foggy as he began to remember the previous evening. The fear that pumped through his heart returned, but not as fierce as it had been. "Pretty much, I've set in place a bio-compatible chip where your eye was. It hooks directly into your brain via your optic nerve."
Morty stared at his grandfather's face, bewildered as Rick continued explaining. "If it isn't rejected, it should help you get smarter."
Morty blinked a few times, the man's words settling in. He subconsciously shook his head, the need to cry filling up in him. For some reason, tears would not form and the boy looked at the ground, holding his head with his hands as if it would break if he didn't.
"You won't be able to cry anymore, but that's a plus since your sniveling is s-urp-so fucking annoying." Rick finally finished. His hands were on his hips, and the man seemed to tower over Morty. "Really, you should thank me."
He gazed at himself in the mirror, his hand twitching as he longed to open the mirror-cabinet and take out some of the pills, and swallow them until his lungs stopped working and his heart stopped beating.
He wanted to die.
He wanted to die.
He wanted to--
No. No. If he died, then Rick would win. He would just jump timelines and take place of another Rick and make another Morty suffer.
That night, and all the way to the wee hours of the morning, Morty's bedroom light was on. Paper was strewn across the room and chewed up pens were scattered all over his desk.
He had figured out how he would get rid of Rick once and for all.
As the weeks passed, he watched his grandfather. He collected items from him when he wasn't home and listen to him complain and shout when he was. He made Rick miserable by hiding his portal gun in different places and pouring all of his precious booze down the drain.
Finally, the time had come. He had all the proper materials hidden under his bed, and a special object hidden in his back pocket. It was one in the morning, when everyone except Rick was deeply asleep.
If everything were to go to plan, his life would be normal by the time his father woke up. He made his way down the stairs, two steps at a time, his hands tingling from excitement. He glided silently through the foyer and the living room and stopped in front of the garage.
The light was on. Rick was definitely awake, Morty knew, as he placed his hand on the doorknob. He turned it, and then pushed forward, the door making just the slightest sound as it opened. Rick was faced the wall, his portal gun in hand as he was prepared to shoot.
"R-Rick." Morty said, emotionless. Despite his desperate attempt to sound confident and brave, his voice still stuttered, and he found his hands shaking.
"W-what do you want, Morty?" His grandfather asked, turning around to face the boy. "Why are you up instead of sleeping or crying?"
Morty rolled his eyes. Of course Rick knew about those hopeless nights the boy spent.
"Doesn't matter." Morty answered, which caused Rick to raise one side of his eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
Rick sighed, exasperated. He turned around and faced the wall, pointing his portal gun at it. As he pulled the trigger, a waxy green substance flew out of it and turned quickly into a portal.
"Rick, where are you going?"
"I'm leaving." Rick said, his voice dripping with annoyance. Morty raised his eyebrows, shocked.
"Where are you going?"
"To another dimension. Take some other d-dumb Rick's spot."
"W-what?!" Morty almost shouted, stepping back, his voice high with anger. "You can't, not now! You've ruined everything for me-- you can't just leave me to-to suffer the consequences!"
"Well--" Rick said, taking out his flask to down the contents inside of it. "I can, and I will."
Morty's umber eyes locked with Rick's steel blue ones, and the boy felt infuriated. How could he just leave like this-- without a single thought about the after affects that would affect his family? The boy grabbed the flask out of Rick's hands and threw it on the ground. He no longer cared about his plan, he wanted nothing more than for Rick to leave. He turned on his heel and began to stomp away, but was suddenly stopped by rough hands on his shoulder, pulling him back--
"No!" Morty screamed, swiftly turning around and swinging at Rick's chest. Rick hardly seemed affected by the boy, but for a moment he betrayed his stone gaze with a small look of shock. Morty had his arms wrapped around himself, and his eyes were wide in fear, his breathing sharp and ragged. His eyes were unfocused as if he were completely somewhere else.
"Listen here, you little shit!" Rick shouted, grabbing Morty's shirt and pulling him up so that they were face to face. The boy was shook out of what was only presumed a horrible flashback, and struggled in Rick's grasp. Rick shook him multiple times, until their noses were touching. "Listen here, you little shit."
"Put me down, Rick!" Morty continued to struggle, kicking as fear pumped throughout his veins. "Please, Rick, please!"
"Listen to me!" Rick shouted. Morty became silent and still, his left hand still fumbling. Rick scanned the boys face, which was still filled with fear.
Morty's hand brushed his back pocket and he grabbed what he was looking for. A small syringe sat in his back pocket and he took it out, holding it behind Rick's head. A bubbly, violet substance was contained in it and shaking, Morty took a deep breath and stabbed the syringe in between Rick's shoulder blades.
He fell to the floor and watched as his grandfather screamed in agony, as diluted dark matter began to make his way through his veins.
"W-what-- what have you done to me, Morty?!" Rick howled, as his body began to twitch and convulse. The man fell to the floor, screaming and writhing in agony as a black substance began to bubble and drip out of his mouth.
Morty got up, looking down at Rick. He turned to Rick's empty table, grabbing the plasma ray gun that sat on it. He held it in his hands, examining it before making his way to look at the dying man in front of him.
The least he could do was end the everlasting pain he was going to be in.
He towered above him, pointing the gun at the man's quickly rising chest.
"Diluted dark matter," Morty explained, pulling the trigger. A bright light began to form at the end of the gun, and Rick's eyes widened. "I was going to let you suffer, but... I hate you so much."
Rick coughed, unable to say anything as he began to choke on the black substance.
"I hate you so much, Rick. You've made my life hell. I'm glad you're going to be gone." Morty said dramatically as the gun let out a bright ray of light. Morty felt the Earth shake as he flew back, his head hitting the garage door. As his eyes adjusted once again, and the ringing in his ears began to stop, he looked around.
Rick was falling off of the wall, a small splatter of crimson blood mixed with the foamy, black substance where he was shot. His eyes were open, but he was no longer alive.
But as the ringing in his ears slowly disappeared, he could hear terrified screams. He looked at the door entrance and saw his mother, her platinum coloured hair messy and tears screaming down her face as she sat on her knees, her hands covering her mouth. Jerry stood there, screaming hoarsely as the sight of his father-in-law's bloody corpse and his son holding the gun that was presumably used to kill him.
Panicking, Morty pulled the trigger and pointed the gun at his parents. Their death seemed quicker than Rick's, and their bloody corpses were collapsed on top on each other. Morty stared at his now dead parents. He expected to feel horrified at what he had done, but instead--
He felt nothing.
He began to pick up Rick's bloody corpse, ready to drag in through the portal, before he stopped dead in his tracks.
He couldn't leave Summer in an empty home like this-- she had seen some messed up stuff because of Rick, and this would just be the icing on the cake.
Careful over the mass of dead bodies, Morty made his way up to Summer's bedroom. She was curled up in her bed, shaking, obviously awake.
Morty contemplated whether or not to say any last words to Summer, but the girl sounded traumatized enough as he heard her nearly silent sobs. Morty aimed the gun at his sisters head and shot.
He made his way to his room. He had gone too far to go back, and he already had a plan in his mind. He grabbed all of the parts he has collected from under his bed and shoved them in a bag, before making his way downstairs. He peeked through the flimsy green portal, looking around.
He could easily go and return to a normal life, he realized. He was staring at a version of his home, but instead, he sighed and shut the portal. He picked up the portal gun, turning the dial multiple times before he figured out what exactly he wanted.
He put the bag on his back and grabbed Rick's cold arm with one hand. In the other, he shot the portal gun and stepped through, carrying the dead man behind him.
He gazed around at the remote blue planet. It was completely off the radar and in a completely different dimension, he knew.
It was perfect.

Ten months later, Rick sat up from the metal table, his eyes darting around wildly. He felt numbingly cold, and something felt completely off about his head. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, they locked on an emotionless, sinister looking boy with an eyepatch on his left eye.
"W-why you little son of a bitch! I'll report you to the citadel-- what makes you think you can-- you can stab me in the back with diluted dark matter?!" Rick stammered, his voice enraged as he reached out at Morty, about ready to choke him.
He suddenly stopped however, and despite his need to kill his grandson, he couldn't move. "What the fuck?! Morty! Morty!"
"Shut up, Rick." Morty said harshly, his face showing no emotion. "Reset personality protocol to zero. Now listen to me, and listen to me. I order you to tell me everything you know about this council of Rick's."

A//N: hahahaahahahahaahhahahahaha holy shit this took so long to write but I'm really proud of it. if you guys want another chapter i might do a tiny one. maybe