Ask the 'Cast'!!!

Oh Boi

From locanyan, who has 'the best chance in their life and isn't going to waste it' lol

For Rick: Why did you keep meeting other people knowing that Morty could leave again? Was it really because of your trauma and how you were raised? 'Cause I try to understand you and I fail every time, so try to explain this to me. Why did you keep hurting him if you wanted him to be yours, and yours only?

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Rick stared blankly at the glass of scotch rolling between his hands in front of him on his personal bar, rain pattering against his roof-top and echoing through his silent house. He cleared his throat gently, not wanting to wake Morty sleeping on the couch not too far away.

"That's hard for even me to explain," he began, taking a longer drink than necessary before he refilled his glass, flinching at the clink of ice cubes and checking to see if he woke the brunet. "I met other people," he paused, considering his words, before he continued, "because I didn't want to hurt him. I'm not talking in the emotional way. God knows how bad I fucked up there. I mean, I literally didn't want to hurt him. With . . . with everything going on, I didn't know how to adjust to having somebody like that in my life again; somebody that was mine for more than a night or two, or even just a few hours." The man ran a hand through his hair with a borderline frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before his hand returned to the glass before him.

"And at some point I gotta face the facts. You got me, with the 'trauma' shit. When you grow up and that's all you see, it sticks with ya. My bastard of a dad walking in almost every fucking hour with a new sleaze on his arm was a sight, that's for sure. But my ma . . . she always stuck around. I thought I would have that with Morty. I could be as crazy as I wanted with anybody but Morty. I didn't have it in me to ask him if he'd let me do that kinda shit to him in the bedroom, and I don't wanna hurt him like that. Plus I'm pretty sure he'd kill me if I gave him more scars to have to cover up." With a regretful chuckle, Rick wandered over to the couch, leaving his scotch on the bar, to adjust the brunet sleeping there.

"I figured I finally found my answer. I'd always wondered if life was really like that. You could have a beautiful person wearing your ring and carrying your last name that would sit there and not care while you paraded your flavor of the hour around the fucking house. But that's not how this works. Fuck, I didn't even do that shit with Diane, so I don't know what the fuck was going through my head when I thought I could pull that over this kid." Rick spoke softly, brushing Morty's curls out of his face and pulling his blanket over his sleeping form better.

"I was really stupid. Really stupid. And you saw that. Even I don't understand me half the time. But I wanna fix it. Because I promised myself way before this kid showed up that I would be a better man. I may have failed severely in the first half of this, but I fucking won't this time. Not while he's saying he loves me and proves that he means it without even trying."

Rick glanced down when he heard slight motion, seeing Morty furrow his brows slightly. He held a finger to his lips in a sign of 'silence' before he smiled gently.

"It was never about being bored with him. It was about my inability to see that I had enough, even when I thought I never could. I didn't think Morty loved me that much. Hell, I didn't know if he could love me after all the shit I pulled. B--" Rick was cut off by Morty whose eyes opened ever so slightly. He gave a small tired smile and adjusted the pillow below his head before he turned it to the side, facing the couch. "Love you," passed his tired lips and Rick beamed, running a hand softly through his hair before repeating the phrase back to him. The man made his way back to the bar before he continued.

"But he proves to me, everyday, that he does love me; that he does want me. And it eats me up inside. I hurt him. . . so much. I hit him, I -- I guess I cheated on him, even though he says we never had a title during that. But I'm not taking that bullshit excuse because it don't seem right. I hurt him so bad. Got so coked out I -- ." Rick paused, practically choking on his words. "Well, you saw what happened. I hurt him bad that night, but he's still here. Because that's my baby; that's my Morty. He don't take no shit from nobody. And he'll throw back twice as much shade. I don't deserve him. Even you know that. But he wants me just the same. And if that means he's gonna keep putting in the effort, then I'm gonna grow right the fuck up and do the same."

With a sigh, Rick flicked the lights off at the bar, making his way back towards the brunet and gathering his tired form up carefully in his arms. "I've told him I'm sorry so many times he's threatened me with bodily harm," Rick spoke softly with a chuckle, carrying Morty up the stairs cautiously before making his way to their room, Little Bastard trailing close behind. "But I'm gonna keep doing all I can to apologize and make up for all the shit I did. Because I really am sorry I ever did that to him. If I had a way to go back in time and talk to myself, I would just beat my own ass. But I'll just keep doing all I can to make it up to him."

With a quiet yawn, the man tucked Morty in before he crawled up next to him, smiling fondly when Morty moved just enough to curl up on him. "All the shit I pulled, and he's still right here. I was a dumbass, and you know that's a fact. Yes, it was because of the way I was raised; because I broke a promise to myself. But I'm gonna do right by him now."

"Daddy," Morty mumbled, peering up from his spot with tired eyes. Rick rubbed his back lightly, laying his head down on the pillow, "Hmm?"

"Who y-you talkin' to?"

"Don't worry 'bout it, baby. Go back to sleep." With a soft huff, Morty deciding it wasn't worth further questioning, the brunet laid his head down.

"I fucked up a lot," Rick whispered. "But not anymore. Goodnight."