Here But Not Awake

1

Sometimes life does things.

Sometimes these things look good but are actually bad, and sometimes its completely flipped around.

And sometimes you can't tell whats good or not anymore like when your alcholic grandpa comes into your life changing everything.

Thats what Morty Smith is trying to figure out, weather or not Rick is a good thing or not.

Well, at this very moment actually, Morty is not thinking about Rick. He's not thinking of any of his family right now.

Right now, Morty is busy in his bathroom. Busy doing a task that he has started to do ritualistically that only meant to be a quick way to feel better.

"It always hurt so much at first and now im hardly flinching" the teen boy thinks to himself, pressing the razor into his thigh then holding his breath as he drags the blade across his pale flesh. A sharp sting overwhelms Morty's senses and he starts craving the release even more.

He stares at the single cut, blood beading up. Its always nice to watch himself bleed; he always feels so empty but watching something seep out of him in tiny fluid streaks always seems to appease the ever growing pit in his stomach.

After a few seconds of spacing out, Morty snaps back to what he was doing. He presses the blade into his thigh again, cutting himself just an inch or so away from the other gash that still is bleeding.

More watching blood.

More cutting.

More self hatred.

Eventually Morty decides hes done enough for the night. Setting his razor on the counter, he grabs some toilet paper, runs in under some water for a second then srarts dabbing the blood up.

"Fucking hell, I got some on the floor" The boy curses to himself as he starts wiping it all up then throwing the bloody wad into the toilet. He sighs and flushes his little secret habit down the toilet, just like he's been doing almost every day for the past how many years. Nobody has found out, and nobody will. Morty is sure of that. He sucks at lying, buy he doesn't have to lie if he doesn't get asked for answers. Hes mastered the art of avoiding the questions and changing the subject quickly- but only when it comes to his self hatred and mutilation.

Morty looks over the bathroom once more then grabbs his razor and leaves, shutting the door quietly. Its three-somethig AM and the last thing the emotionally exhausted boy wants to do is wake someone and have them yell at him.

Taking his time down the dark hall then turning into his bedroom, Morty silently locks the door behind him. He slowly slides to the floor, his back against the door, and curls up into a ball.

He wishes he could cry right now, he wishes he could feel the sweet comfort of tears, to feel the surge of emotions then having them all get pushed out just by having liquid come from your eyes. "Its funny," Morty whispers to nothing in particular, "crying feels amazing but when I cut," He pauses, rubbing one of the lacerations that has already stained through his boxers casing it to sting more. "When I cut, it feels so different, its like I'm purging myself of a monster but then the monster comes back but with twice as many heads" He chuckles to himself despite not being amused. "It feels so right to do though, yet I know its so bad."

Morty curls up into a tighter ball and he doesn't move until his mom calls to him for breakfast.

----

"Woah Morty, you look like shit today" Rick says looking almost exasperated sitting at the table where Beth, Summer and Morty are already eating their breakfast.

"Yeah, well I guess it runs in the family" The tired teen absently mumbles.

"What was that you little bitch? I was trying see if you're okay but now you're getting all snarky on me like Summer when shes on her period" Rick snapd back quickly causing Morty to flinch a little.

"I'm right here, Grandpa Rick!" Summer yells, slamming her hands on the table. "And that statement is incredibly sexist!"

"Its not sexist if it is scientific." Rick retorts. He stands up and kisses Beth on her forehead. " Thank you for breakfast sweetie"

Morty watches Rick take his plate into the kitchen and seconds later he hears thd usual slam of the garage door.

Sooner or later he gets up and goes back upstairs and gets dressed for school. Its around late November so he throws a grey sweatshirt on over his usual yellow shirt. He goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He tries to avoid looking in the mirror, he already knows what he looks like and he doesn't need a mirror to be disgusted by himself. Morty knows that his eyes are darker and sadder and shrunk in, he's gotten so much paler then he already is due to staying inside all the time except when he and his grandpa go on adventures. He runs a hand through his messy chestnut hair that hasn't been combed in days.

"Morty, h-BuuuUUUurp-h hurry it up in there grandpa has to shit" Morty hears through the door. He throws his toothbrush wherever its supposed to be then walks out of the room. "Hey Morty," Rick starys to say.

"Not right n-now Rick. I-I I'm not in the mood for a lecture of how c-cra of shitty I am at everything" The teen says tiredly, quietly walking past the old man. What the teen doesnt see is Rick narrowing his eyes at him, trying to figure out whats wrong with him.

Morty walks downstairs to meet with his sister whose driving him to school. Neither of the siblings really wanted to be trapped in a car with eachother, Summer especially.

They sit in Summer's quietly, Morty leans his head against the wimdow sighing softly. He'd slowly become used to Rick dragging him out of class to go on some adventure across the cosmos but over the past two weeks Rick has barely spoken to Morty and hasn't even brought up the idea of an adventure. It makes sense, the last one they went on messed them both up badly. Morty was forces to fight hand to hand with clones of Beth and Summer. He had to kill them to free Rick who was trapped in a box with some sort of liquid that seemed to suffocate his but very slowly and painfully.  He eventually beat the clones and had to drag an unconscious Rick back to their ship. He had to sneak by so many guards and almost got caught many times. It was petrifying. Morty shudders at the gruesome memory.

"Hey dingdong, were here. Get out." Summer barks dully snapping the teen out of his brain. Morty mutters something and hops out of the blue car.

The school first half of the school day seems to fly by in a haze, just like it has been for a while. Hes not going to use anything he learns here, so why bother paying attention anymore? But in the period right before lunch, the classroom door swings open with Rick stumbling in, looking as drunk as ever. "M-Mo-oOOorty, we gotta, you and grandpa" He drunkenly moves towards his desk, picking the kid up by the collar. "Your grandpa and you gotta BUUURP go on an a-adventuuuuUUrrrpp"