Burn in Hell | C137cest AU

Forgiven - Chapter 39

       When Morty woke on his floor, surrounded by images of his son, he felt an emptiness he hadn't known in a while. He didn't think he'd even known this ever. He was all alone right now. Everything was gone.

       His home was destroyed by a rampant man of little memory, his mind almost drowning in the flood of remembrance. He couldn't breathe properly, whining sharply every time he nearly cried as he stopped the salt tears from flowing. He was by himself now.

       But he didn't have to be.

       He had gotten to see a side of Rick he didn't think he'd ever see again. He got to see compassion and patience from a man that hadn't ever really gone that long without blowing a fuse. He had spent time getting to know Rick in a new light, remembering the man that treated Morty as a stranger, but with kindness; shoving away all he knew for the kid's benefit.

      But he could still revert back to that. He could still be that man that Morty both feared and loved. He could be the man that broke Morty down for what he could only assume was his own amusement.

       But he was what Morty needed right now. 

       The brunet didn't care as he threw his vomit-covered shirt to the ground, leaving his socks and shoes where they lay and remained grateful he was in his shorts, leaving his phone and every important belonging of his wherever it lay. He didn't care as he took off running down the streets, trying to stop the oncoming wave of tears he felt. He just needed to get to Rick. It was only Wednesday. He should be home.

       When Morty reached the bridge, his legs felt ready to give out, but he didn't care. He may not have run in the longest time, his body unconditioned as all hell, but that wouldn't stop him. He could stop when he was dead, if he ever reached that point. He didn't give a shit anymore.

       The early spring air, even in Miami, was colder than the brunet was prepared for. He probably looked like a dumbass, but he didn't care.

       Morty had felt like a caged bird for so long, and now he was free. He broke out, escaped, whatever you wanted to call it. He didn't care. He was free, and he knew where he was to soar to next.

       He could only pray to be welcomed.

       Rick sat in his living room, annoyed out of his mind. Al and Gary were over for important business, Gene in the kitchen getting a snack, and all they could do was talk about Morty's predicament. It wasn't new. They all knew he was really gone. They had for almost five months now.

       The man was mostly frustrated, though, because this was the second day the brunet wasn't answering his phone at all, which only served to frustrate him further. He had no idea if the kid was alright currently, wishing these idiots would just hurry up and go away so Rick could maybe go hunt him down.

       Honestly the man was more afraid of having chased the brunet off than anything, knowing he was funny when he was scared. He had passed right the fuck out on Rick two days ago, and the man knew his kisses weren't that breathtaking.       

       But, in all actuality, Rick was genuinely afraid. He knew the brunet could make drastic decisions when he was terrified. Sure he could be in the hospital right now, or he could be passed out on his floor. For days. Without help.

       Rick growled in frustration, ready to snap at the idiots in front of him. "Alright," he growled, "let's just get this over with. I have places to be."

       Morty could scarcely breathe when he made it to Rick's gate, fumbling with the key code. He punched the numbers in, shoving his way past the gate before it was open enough, and trudged his way up the driveway. It was cool enough for him not to be sweating too horribly, but he was still breathless, having to stop and kneel in the driveway for a moment to catch his breath.