Any other day...

A shaking yellow hand wandered skillfully over the dashboard of something sinister, the odd hum and rattle of a poorly ventilated exhaust port banging against a few empty beer bottles as a single set of yellow eyelids began to slowly close under the weight of three days without sleep. It wasn't long before the suspicious and dangerous looking dashboard began to light up with a reddish-beerstain color and something like a man was finally forced to acknowledge the quickly increasing beeps and whirs the ship was beginning to make. They had to be close, hey hadn't traveled through sixteen parallel realities and 400 light years to be gone for any longer than an hour.

"HEEEEEEEYYYYYY RIIICCCCKK~! WAAAKEY WAAAAKEY! I THINK WE'RE ALMOST THERRRREEE~."

Rick's eyes opened slowly, the especially strong smell of whiskey literally dripping from his lip as his sprawled form in the back seat began to shift and rattle his humble collection of glass.

"Thanks Mr. Poopybutthole, just put my *BLURP* feet on the floor and I'll land the ship."

Somewhere in the night sky a shooting star fell gracefully.

Hopefully no one had wished on that one...

"We're Mortys! We're not defined by our relationships to Rick! Our destiny is our own!"

Those words still rang in his ears, bouncing around as they slowly lost meaning. He remembered the rush of encouragement, of adrenaline as he joined the other versions of himself be spurred on by Morty C-137's speech. His words were powerful, and hit him at the bone. At the time, he believed him.

Morty C-237 was a fool.

The moment the crowd had been broken apart and pushed away from the downed Rick, his senses came crashing back. There was blood on his shirt, his hands, his face. He didn't look any different from most of the other Mortys who surrounded him, and he wasn't treated any differently either. He was escorted from the building and rounded with countless other Mortys like cattle.

The light hit him hard, making him shield his face with his bloodied hands. He blinked his eyes open and squinted at all the moving bodies around him until someone shoved him forward. He looked up and saw a Rick staring down at him with an expression of disinterest, which quickly shifted to a frown.

"C-C'mon! Move. We don't have all day, asswipe!"

Morty swept his gaze down at the ground, and finally moved forward.

---

The Council of Ricks had been very vague when they told him when he'd be given a new Rick. "When one needs a replacement," they had told him. Until then, he was expected to shut up and go back to his dimension. Morty had been so numb that he hardly realized when a portal to C-237 had been opened in front of him. Stepping through, he found that his dimension was exactly like it had been. He knew he had been gone for at least a couple months, so of course there wasn't going to be any changes.

Creeking the front door open, Morty peeked around it. The television was on, but no one was watching it. He looked to the kitchen as he caught the heated voices of an argument. Furrowing his brow, he stepped inside and slammed the door behind him. The arguing stopped.

---

His parents had greeted him with hugs and snippy comments towards each other. His mother's eyes were red, her hair was disheveled, and there were what could only be wine stains on her shirt. His father, on the other hand, was perfectly fine.

His sister had rushed down the steps, and before Morty could say a word she was pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. One look at her told Morty that she had spent much time crying.

That first night was awkward. Beth had made a plate up for Rick, and nearly burst into tears when Jerry pointed it out. All Morty could do was sit and slowly eat, trying not to look up from his plate when his parents started to argue.

Summer slammed her fork down and declared that she was going to stay the night at her friend's. Judging by the way that neither Beth or Jerry attempted to stop her, Morty figured that this was a nightly occurrence. He watched her leave.

She didn't come back until two days later.

---

Now, almost a month later, Morty was sitting on his bed. He was currently busy inspecting the healing wounds on his sides. The puncture marks had scabbed over, but were still painful when touched. He guessed they would scar. He bit his lip, knowing it could be worse. His time trapped to the building, repeatedly stabbed to keep his brainwaves shrill and powerful, had been short compared to a few others. There had been no set schedule for when the Mortys would be swapped out to prevent actual starvation, so some had been left out there for far longer than others. That Rick hadn't cared to keep track - he just couldn't have any dead Mortys on his hands. A dead Morty couldn't give off brainwaves.

Morty still had nightmares, and likely would for a long time. Sighing, he lowered his shirt. He swung his legs off the side of his bed and looked out the window. The sky was dark, hardly punctured by any light. Standing, he went to the small window and leaned against the sill. Silently, he counted the few stars that he could see. He traced them, trying to find the constellations Rick had showed him. He darted his eyes up and down, side to side, but couldn't find any. Either the clouds blocked them all, or he had forgotten them.

The teenager took in a deep breath through his nostrils, shuddered, and covered his face as his eyes began to tear up. He couldn't believe he missed that old, drunk asshole. All the scientist had done was drag him around, yell at him, and make him question every aspect of his life. He crushed every sense of security and normality he had in the span of one year.

Yet, all he could remember was that morning, and how Rick had grabbed his shirt and yanked him back until the kid fell out of his chair. The shot had so clearly been made for Rick, but all that old bastard could do was try to protect Morty's sorry ass while everyone else screamed.

"Oh my god, Rick. I fucking hate you."

He wiped at his face, ridding it of his tears as he looked up just in time to spot a shooting star. His naivety wanted to make a wish, but all he did was turn away. He crossed the room to shut off the light, then headed back to his bed. Once under the covers, he shoved a hand under his pillow before settling down, and was asleep within moments.

"OHHHHH GAAAAWWWWWD, RIIIIICK~"

An orange haze painted Rick's silhouette against the gas station behind him, his form flailing and shifting vigorously as he continued to apply pressure. His hands were shaking, not necessarily from anxiety, as somewhere through the gaping hole in the destroyed billboard at the end of the parking lot he could make out his car's refraculator hanging from a power line.

"Dammit... H-Hold on Mr. Poopybutthole, things are gonna be fine."

Rick turned his attention back to the little yellow something-or-other and pressed his palm evenly to the left, trying to think through the voices screaming at him from the other end. Frantic glances from the blood on his hands to various pieces of debri and scrap metal that had fallen off his ship eventually resulting in a look of sordid determination as he happened upon a solution.

"THHHIIIIINGS ARE GEEEETTING DARRRrRK RRRriiiIIICCCK~"

"J-Just hold still and try not to *BLUUurP* bleed so hard..."

Rick stood up, a panicked Mr. Poopybutthole beginning to shout awkwardly as Rick drunkenly stumbled back through the flames he had just escaped from and began digging around the trunk of the broken and burning space car. A few moments later he returned with a rifle and aimed it cavalierly at Mr. Poopybutthole's face, a few beeps and hums whirring into action as Rick began to adjust the safety.

A look of concern crossed over the little yellow something as he tried to process what was happening.

"SUUURREE IS A SHINY GUuUN RRIIICCCKK~, BUT I NEEEED A DOCcCTORr~"

"I-It's okay Mr. Poopybutthole, I-I'm gonna take all your pain away..."

"WAAAIIITTT RRRIII-"

An eerie and solemn burst of light would be seen through the scattered flames outside the gas station that night, Rick wandering off with an armful of various trinkets as darkness began to reclaim the night.

----- *Que the intro for all you imagineers out there* -----

Jerry sat alone at the dinner table, picking idly at something Beth had cooked 3 hours ago and not told him was ready. The rest of the family had already dispersed for the night, leaving Jerry alone with his thoughts. He was always alone with his thoughts. He sighed a lengthy sigh for the fifth time that night. No one had seen it the first four times, no one would see it now. He vaguely remembered thinking he had heard the door unlock, or that he had had heard the sound of footsteps, but none of those little warnings really seemed to register with him as he moped and poked a potato on his plate with his fork.

Someone stepped into the kitchen and opened the freezer.

"You guys better not have moved my *Blu-rrrP* ionic defibrillator."

"No Rick, everything's still in th-"

Jerry dropped his fork, eyes wide with terror and confusion as a pint of icecream and a box of frozen corn dogs fell to the floor, his dead father in law carelessly scraping various food products out of his freezer to make room for a frozen Mr. Poopybutthole who appeared, underneath his icy sheen, to be covered in blood and a look of intense fear. Jerry's eyes were locked on Rick, but every time his voice tried to come out it was hushed to a muffled whine as uncertainty took over and his anxiety immediately began to play out his worst fears. It wasn't until Rick had scooped up what had fallen to the floor and threw it directly into the garbage that Jerry found his voice.

"HEY, I was going to eat that!"

"I needed the space to save a life, Jerry. And by the looks of it you've had a bit too much ice cream this week anyway... I'll be in the garage..."

Jerry sat in the kitchen in silence, eyeing his own waist anxiously. He hadn't quite decided on whether or not to move yet...

As Morty dreamed, the voices that seeped in from under his door penetrated the images he saw. The noises were soft from where he was on his bed, directly below him in the kitchen, but that didn't keep his brain from picking out what it could. There came the sheepish tone from his father, which didn't last long. It echoed off his dreams and bounced back out without much damage. The other voice, on the other hand...

Morty sat up with a gasp. He crossed his legs under the blanket, though was shaking so hard that he could hardly move. He put a hand to his chest, then pressed it to his forehead before looking down at his lap. That one had felt so real. It was almost like Rick was right there, speaking and breathing and living. Morty's mind was getting a little too good at torturing him. He looked around at his dark room, catching the outlines of a few things littering the floor.

Everything was so quiet. He looked to the door, waited, held his breath, then let it go. Everyone was asleep - Rick wasn't going to barge in to call him to a late night adventure. Morty swallowed hard and realized how dry his throat was. He licked his lips, then threw the blankets back.

Padding down to the kitchen, Morty was surprised to find his father still up. He didn't say anything, however. He just went to the sink, filled up a glass, and gulped it down. He eyed Jerry over the rim of the glass.

"Um...I..." He lowered the glass and looked away, his free hand playing with the fabric of his pajama shirt awkwardly. Was this normal? He didn't think it was. The kitchen smelled like reheated food, and that wasn't new. Beth hadn't exactly called him to dinner...Again. Still, something felt off. Very off.

"Well, um...Good night, Dad. Heh." He dumped the glass in the sink and turned, quietly making his way back towards the stairs. He was about to begin the venture up to his room when he glanced at the garage door. He gripped the handrail so hard that his knuckles turned white. He wanted nothing more than to get away from it, and he was about to, but something caught his eye.

The door was slightly ajar. It was closed, but not all the way. No, no. His parents were the cause of that. Or Summer. Or the wind. Sucking in a deep breath, Morty left the stairs and reached for the knob, aiming to close it right. His fingertips brushed the wood, and the action was just enough to push the door open. Morty's eyes widened as he hurried to grasp the knob.

Rick was going to be pissed!

No...No, wait. No.

Morty tensed and looked up the knob. Why should he care if the door was open? It was just a garage. He sighed and looked into the garage, only to be greeted by a familiar figure inside.

For a moment, he was sure he was hallucinating. He was dreaming. He was sleepwalking and dreaming of the past. That's all it was! He froze, but the scientist before him didn't vanish. At that, all he could do was stare wide-eyed at the man.

"R-...Rick?"

"I'm glad you're awake Morty, I need you to h-hand me that screwdriver over there ..."

Rick didn't turn, his hands quickly fidgeting from one complicated process to another as his laser like focus began to unweave the mysteries of one of "his" previous devices and reassemble it into something he was a little more familiar with. After promptly connecting two bizarre pieces of equipment together and plugging in a few LEDs, he outstretched his hand expectantly and with his other hand held down a series of sensitive looking and oddly arranged wires of varying color. His lab coat was torn and burnt in several places, his left eye bruised. Somewhere under his lab coat he was bleeding. Other than that and his smelling a little stronger of whiskey than usual, there wouldn't be much to put him out of place in the garage filled with most of "his" other gadgets.

"... I'll also need the crystallized zanthanite from the cable box..."

As Rick had started looking up to visualize his next move a sour expression seemed to cross his face and he was left squinting suspiciously at the ceiling as he took a few deep breaths.

"...Was Summer fucking smoking in here?!"

Somewhere in the kitchen Jerry was getting out of his chair and starting to work up his courage for something, probably nothing important.

Morty didn't move. For that first moment, all he did was glance at the screwdriver at the opposite end of the work bench. He shifted his attention from the screwdriver, to Rick, screwdriver, then finally back to Rick. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it when he saw Rick outstretch his hand. From past experiences, Morty knew very well that this was a good time to argue.

Wordlessly, the teenager stepped further into the garage. His hand shook as he picked up the screwdriver and plopped the handle in Rick's palm. Between then and when the older man spoke next, Morty took the time to study his appearance. Rick certainly looked like he had been though a lot, but that wasn't where Morty's attention was. Rather, it was on his face. He squinted a bit, though he wasn't sure what he was looking for. Rick looked exactly the same as before. He looked like any other Rick.

Rick's next request snapped him out of his thoughts. Morty blinked, confused. "Uh..." Interrupted by Rick's sudden question, Morty followed his gaze up to the ceiling. Indeed, there was some faint patches of nicotine residue on it and the walls. "I-I think it was Mom," he said, his voice hoarse from not speaking for so long.

"B-But, uh...Crystallized w-what?" He was sure he had heard it before, but at the state he was in he couldn't recall what it was Rick was talking about.

"Beth, huh?..."

Rick began to tightly screw something small into his makeshift box and coiled a few of the wires around it's base counterclockwise, his eyes never leaving as he finished plugging and tinkering, eventually reaching over for another odd trinket. There was something like sadness in his voice, calloused over with a lifetime of cold rationality which made it all but unrecognizable. It didn't last long, his next words coming quick and uninterruptedly.

".. Th-The glowing rock sticking out of the cable box Morty, the purple one Morty, the one stealing cable from every other dimension imagineable, I need you to bring it here Morty. Bring it here fast-"

His words were cut short by a small spray of sparks erupting from what looked like an old fashioned pager that had been crossed over with a miniature metal detector, his brow furrowing in concentration as he pulled off the casing and began to hurriedly unscrew and rearrange the wires he had shuffled together. It would now become apparent that there were a few extra devices in the garage that hadn't been there before, mostly sitting in a pile in the corner beside a silver rifle of some sort and occasionally having a haphazard piece launched in it's general direction from Rick's current project.

"-Dammit."

Something that looked quite literally like a microscopic nuclear explosion erupted in slow motion at the base of one of the wires and gave off a minuscule mushroom cloud as Rick winced and grunted. The light from the nigh pinpoint would be just enough to light up the garage a little more than it already had been, Rick grimacing in mild annoyance as he swatted at the tiny smoke plume and reached for his welding helmet.

----------

Jerry had wandered into the hallway nervously, angst and confusion writhing on his face as he cradled a freshly salvaged pint of double-fudge chocolate chip in his arm and waited for things to make sense to him again. Whether he was or was not muttering something about his marriage or about having a bad dream was hard to tell as it sounded largely like a nervous parrot attempting to imitate the less sensible end of a garbled telephone call.

Something clicked in Morty's brain, evidenced by how his eyes widened a bit. Without a word, he turned and hurried back into the house. He was moving so fast that he nearly ran right into Jerry. He tensed, barely an inch away from him and his carton of ice cream, then skirted around him without much care.

"S-Sorry, Dad!" He called without looking over his shoulder. Once in the living room, Morty snagged the cable box from below the TV, hardly mindful of the wires connecting the devices.

The crystal cast soft pink light on his hand as he reached for it. He tugged at it, and when it was pried loose it sent a few sparks flying. Morty cursed under his breath at how hot it was in his hand. He returned the cable box where it had been, and quickly went back to the garage.

Offering the crystal to Rick, Morty stole a peek at what was on the table. "What is that?" He couldn't help his curiosity - it was better than feeling numb.

Jerry blinked, his voice rising to a panicked whine as his son ran past him for the second time.

"Wait, is this a dream?!"

No one heard him. No one ever really did.

Rick took the crystal mindlessly, his hands quickly flitting to work and carefully coiling the various wire ends around it's base before setting it into the small chamber at the top of the device. He then flicked a small switch underneath and eyed the machine casually as it lit up and proceeded to beep of it's own accord.

"It's a *BLuUurpP* time-space destabilizer Morty, I-i-I can use this to speed up and slow down certain areas of space while making contracting fields of- of-" Rick hesitated, his eyes finally finding their way to his grandson who looked decidedly more taken aback than he had been expecting. It could wait. "-There's no time Morty, he's gonna get freezer burn if we leave him in there much longer, let's just hope one of me had the same idea."

With that, Rick turned heel and made his way back to the garage door, his free hand grabbing the silver rifle that had been propped up against the garage wall as he made his way through. Winding his way down the hallway past Jerry and back into the kitchen, he quickly popped open the freezer door and withdrew a frozen and still very terrified looking Mr. Poopybutthole. He placed the bizarre statue-esque person-thing on the ground and took a few steps back from it before taking the rifle and aiming it squarely at his forehead. He fired once, the blue light being eclipsed only by the ear grating sound of the old family friend finishing his last words.

"-IIIIIIIIiiiIIIICCCCKKKK~! WWAIT, WHERE AM I~~~~? OH GAAAAWWWWDDDD~"

The blood had started pouring instantly, the rifle hitting the ground with an unusual clang as Rick darted towards the bleeding comrade with his newly made device in hand. He placed the little round sensor over the unspeakable wound and tried not to blink. His next words came out of his mouth without him realizing it.

"Dammit Mr. Poopybutthole, I told you not to bleed so hard! Hold still!"

The device whirred and beeped spastically, each new hum sending a heavy vibration through the air and forcing the light around Mr. Poopybutthole's wound to bend ever so slightly. His eyes widened with a new fear as his stomach expanded and contracted, his bleeding speeding up and then slowing down before the wound seemed to begin to close itself. The glow from the zanthanite waxed and waned with every new burst of information, the device only coming to a complete stop once the yellow monster's skin was all but new again.

"WOOOooOOOW, THAAANKS RIIIiiICK~!"

Rick admired his handy work for a moment, his expression dimming slightly once he realized he was being thanked.

"Don't thank me yet Mr. Poopybutthole. I'm pretty sure I-I just gave you six different kinds of cancer..."

"AAAAAWWWWWWWwww~."

"Freezer burn...? Who-Who are you talking about?" Morty turned to watch Rick leave the garage. He fidgeted with his hands for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot before deciding to follow. Nothing was making sense. He should have just gone back to bed and dismissed it all as a dream that he'd forget in the morning. But he was far too awake to do that now, too eager to follow Rick around like he had months prior.

Morty moved around Jerry, that time not bothering to acknowledge him. He got into the kitchen just as he heard a strange, loud voice. His heart nearly skipped a beat at how startling it was, and he hurried to move to where Rick was. Of course, he wasn't expecting the yellow, bloody creature. At the sight of Mr.Poopybutthole, Morty jumped back against the counter. Fortunately for him, he came in after the crisis had been fixed. At the state he was currently in, the kid might have had a mini-breakdown at seeing so much blood and pain from the unfamiliar alien.

"Oh my God! What-What...Who..." He turned his attention on Rick, suddenly angry. "Who the hell are you?!" Clearly, he knew exactly who Rick was, but it was painfully obvious that he didn't belong in this dimension. As much as he wanted to believe that this was his Rick, he couldn't let himself fool him into believing such an obvious lie.

Rick's brow furled and a short scowl appeared on his face at the simplicity of the question.

"I'm the tooth fairy Morty, I-I'm the motherfucking tooth fairy dressed up exactly like your grandpa. You ever hear of that Morty?"

Rick fiddled with something under his jacket, clearly preoccupied with something as he searched the back of his mind for an easier way to explain away his situation. Eventually his hand returned bearing a small single screen display that he would use to toggle through a complex looking repository of data and statistics. Mr. Poopybutthole would watch with bulging eyes and a chipper smile as Rick seemed to settle on the information he was looking for, his scowl diminishing ever so slightly. He scrolled for a couple more moments and some minuscule portion of his expression changed to match the complete hell of information he was looking at. He wouldn't let Morty see if he could help it. Better yet, he would cover it up with anger.

"THE SHIT Morty?! w-When the council of Ricks came by a few months ago d-did they even bother to wipe your memory?"

Rick waited for the response, his finger still toggling through the small library of information in front of him. A Morty with as much psychological damage as this one was bound to cause trouble. What's more, his brain waves would probably be distorted, which would most likely have unpredictable side effects for the sort trouble Rick generally tended to get himself into.

Morty narrowed his eyes, though didn't say anything to Rick's harsh sarcasm. He clenched his fists at his sides, shaking slightly. His attention went to Rick's hand in his jacket, and he grit his teeth as he pulled out whatever he had been looking for. Morty studied his face, and for some reason felt his stomach turn at the slightest change of expression on the man's face. "W-What are you looking at! Huh, Rick?!"

He shut his mouth when Rick spoke. He clenched his fists even harder. How did he know about Morty's run-in with the Council of Ricks? Was that part of what he was reading? Unfortunately, that didn't help with his anger. "O-Of course not, you fucking asshole! I wouldn't be so lucky, w-would I, Rick!" He spat out the name like it physically hurt him to say, his voice cracking the slightest bit. The anger on his face shifted for a moment, flashing something that looked like hurt. But it was gone in an instant, replaced with more anger.

"You didn't answer my question!"

Rick's free hand lifted itself of it's own accord and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing in frustration as he concentrated and muttered something about sloppy work. After a moment he opened his eyes begrudgingly.

"I'm Rick from dimension D-217 Morty, I'm your replacement Rick. L-Look, this isn't easy for anybody Morty."

Rick put his modified gameboy on the table and waved his arms enthusiastically, his icecream cone dripping a little onto the kitchen floor.

"B-but look, I wanna make it up to you Morty, I wanna- I wanna set things right because what happened to you was shitty Morty, so how about you give me a chance and we go on an adventure, right now Morty, just you and me, Rick and Morty, huh? What do you say Morty?"

Rick almost seemed sincere, maybe part of him was. There were very few ways to find out given the circumstances.

Morty could only stare at him. He raised an eyebrow as he watched a drip of icecream fall to the floor. When did...? Maybe this was a dream. It was too good to be reality. But damn would he be lying if he said Rick's words didn't sound wonderful. He broke into a smile - an actual, genuine smile. But it didn't last long. He furrowed his brow, rolled his eyes, and sighed.

"Okay, Rick. We can-We can go." He stepped away from the counter to approach his grandfather. "B-But this doesn't change anything, okay? I'll-I'll be your replacement Morty, but there's no way you can...you can replace my Rick." There was an edge to his voice that he seemed to be having a hard time holding on to. After staring up at Rick for a moment longer, he dragged his gaze down to his pajamas.

When he spoke next, he sounded much more like a normal Morty. "C-Can I change first?"

Rick raised his brow facetiously and rolled his eyes in turn.

"Sure Morty, just hurry. The place we're going to is *bLuRp* -is probably gonna close in a four or five hours."

Rick licked his icecream cone, the cold sweetness giving him something to focus on as he tried not to ruin the moment. Mr. Poopybutthole licked his own ice cream cone lazily, his wide bulging eyes caressing the room with their gentle stare before he finally parted his lips and added his two cents.

"HHHEEEEEYYYYY RRRIIIIiiiIIICCCKKK~, MAAAYBE YOU SHOULD BRING SUMMER ALOONG, HMMMMMMMmmmmMMM~?"

"I'm pretty sure Summer can sit this one out Mr. Poopybutthole. Th-This one's just for me and Morty."

Mr. Poopybutthole was about to say something else, but was thankfully cut short by Rick's heading back to the garage to tune something up for their departure, which prompted him to follow.

Morty nodded and hurried out of the kitchen. As he made it to the stairs, something in him kicked in. Was it excitement? Must have been, as it pushed him to bound up the stairs two steps at a time. Thankfully the stairs were carpetted, or he might have woken up his mom and sister. Yet, in his haste to get to his room, Morty tripped on the second to last step and faceplanted at the top of the stairs. Fuck. He pushed himself up and hurried into his room, hardly closing the door before changing clothes.

"So where are we going?" he asked as he entered the garage. As much as he was trying to not let Rick see his excitement, he clearly failed. But he still kept his distance, trying to keep a line between letting himself have fun and falling for something that would ultimately hurt him.

"W-We're going to a candy store Morty. Best candy store in the galaxy, has everything Morty. Lost a tooth there once. You-You should have seen the other guy. I just gotta run a quick errand before we get there Morty, just gotta pick something up."

Rick was clearly starting to get excited, his hands darting around his portal gun for a few moments before he locked it's casing and watched the device purr to life. He then picked up a heavy looking device from his work table and held it not completely like it was an oblong rectangular bowling ball. The strange box beeped once. Rick waited a moment as it beeped again and with a quick zap the portal was open, after which Rick deftly threw the device in and closed the portal.

Rick then started re-entering coordinates.

"L-Little present for some- some friends of mine..."

Another burst of green light encompassed the room followed by Rick wandering over to the pile of recently repaired instruments and picking them up. He would step through quickly enough, assuming Morty did too he would find a familiar gas station parking lot that wasn't more than a couple miles from home. Scorch marks littered the ground surrounding the dinged up space car, but ultimately the night was silent. Little more than the quiet chirp of crickets nearby as Rick threw his instruments into the hood haphazardly and connected a few wires before stepping over to the cockpit and turning a key inside.

The car sputtered, but did start, the lights flickering and eventually beaming strongly down the road in the distance.

"A...Candy store, Rick?"

Morty watched Rick with a raised eyebrow. A somewhat disturbed look came over his face as the man through the odd device through the portal. He could only guess what that was, though judging by Rick's comment, it couldn't have been good.

The disturbance faded quickly, completely gone once Morty stepped though the second portal. The sensation the green light surrounded him was almost comforting, though only because of its familiarity. Once he was on the other side, finding the gas station parking lot, he was about to question it when he caught sight of the ship. He stopped in his tracks to take a good look at it.

The ship he knew was gone. Where? He didn't know. He just knew that a couple weeks after his return, when he grew the nerve to look in the garage, his grandpa's ship wasn't there to greet him. He was so undeniably pissed. He was so mad that it was almost the teenage equivalent of a temper tantrum. Out of all the things his family could have touched, why that?

And he still didn't know who did it. Beth could hardly look at anything Rick ever touched, so it couldn't have been her. Jerry might have been the one, but Summer was clearly filled with similar hormonal, grieving rage. It wouldn't surprise him if she had attempted to fly the ship, and wrecked it somewhere because she didn't know how to drive it properly. Still, seeing the empty spot in the garage was gut-wrenching.

Maybe it was for the best. If it had still been there, Morty would have been long gone. He'd probably be dead by his own incompetence.

Shaking those thoughts off, not having realized how he had froze up so randomly, Morty hurried to the ship and hopped in. He glanced around it, then gave a small smile in Rick's direction. "S-So-So why the candy store, Rick?"

The ship hummed as a small series of clatters and clinks filled the cockpit, Rick grinding his foot on the dented door frame in an attempt to undo some kink it had acquired in the crash. Without the slightest hint of concern Rick got bored and quickly took his seat before latching the handle, taking a short swig from his flask and adjusting his mirrors before he looked at Morty curiously.

"Wow~ They really did a number on you didn't they Morty? W-We're going to a candy store because candy tastes good. Because it's the opposite of eating shit Morty. Just gotta *BlurP* r-run an errand first."

The vehicle had already begun it's ascent, slowly at first and then so quickly that the earth beneath the two travelers was beginning to shrink at an impossible rate. It's wasn't more than ten seconds before the entire planet had shrunk to the size of a golf ball in the distance. A few seconds later it was gone. Rick seemed to be eyeing a few dials on the dash specifically as star after star approached and receded, his mind clearly on less important things as his glazed over eyes did his work for him. The odd thing about these dials is that they weren't showing anything at all. Just vague meters that were all lazily sitting at zero.

This seemed to be exactly what Rick was looking for, but that didn't keep him from glancing back to them every now and again.

Morty's stomach lurched forward as the ship left the planet. He leaned back in his seat, trying to grow used to such an unusual feeling after going so long without knowing it. He put a hand to his head, feeling the dull ache of a headache approaching before gently shaking it and focusing his eyes at the windshield. Going wide-eyed once again, Morty pressed his hand to the glass beside his seat and looked out, glad to see the stars again. He honestly didn't think he'd miss them so much. A smile came to his face as memories rushed through his mind. His eyes glossed over with what would have been tears had he not blinked them away. With the same smile on his face, Morty turned to look at Rick. He opened his mouth to say something about what images the stars had triggered, but stopped himself.

Oh...

His smile faltered, and he turned away from the glass. Sitting straight in his seat, though a little hunched over, Morty put his elbow against the window and rested his cheek heavily in his palm. It didn't take long, however, for his attention to meander back to Rick. He watched him glance down at the dials, and curiosity hit him. Sitting up again, Morty did his best to seem casual as he leaned over a bit to steal a better look at the meters. They...Weren't reading anything? He tried to recall if that was normal in the last ship, and he couldn't say either way if it was or wasn't. He'd never caught his Rick paying any particular attention to them, and even if he did Morty wouldn't have had any idea of how to read the meters. Maybe he was just overthinking things.

"So, u-umm...Why was your ship at the gas station? I-I mean, uh...If you're my replacement Rick, wouldn't the council like, introduce us there or something? I-I mean it seems kind of weird..."