(Notes: Hello everyone! This is my first time posting to this particular site. This is just a little RickMorty story that I decided might be decently written enough for my fellow sinners to enjoy, lol. More to come soon!)

But Words Can Never Hurt Me

Chapter 1

"R-Rick? C'mon, you.. you gotta get up,"

Morty's voice, quavering and filled with just a bit more than his usual worry mingled with the sensation of something cold being pressed to Rick's eye. "Hn?", the old man grunted, opening his eyes halfway to look over at his grandson, who had situated himself in a chair at his bedside, "Jesus, Morty. That fucking ...stings." He muttered, but didn't bother stopping Morty from dabbing gingerly at his black eye.

"I'm.. I'm sorry! I'm trying to be careful, I know it probably hurts a lot." the teenager replied nervously, withdrawing his hand. There was a short silence, in which Rick sat up, winced, and took a long swig from his ever-present flask. "Jeez, prison really.. really fucked you over, di-didn't it, Rick?" Morty started up again, making a feeble attempt at humor. Anything to lighten the fact that his grandfather was in such terrible shape. Raising an eyebrow in amusement, Rick snorted, "Are you kidding MoooEUghrty? You should've.. you should've seen some of the other ..guys in there. I got off pretty fucking.. easy." His speech halted a bit more than usual, and Morty winced as the man took another long pull from his flask. It really didn't seem like a good idea to be drinking when he was in such bad condition, but Morty had enough sense to know not to say anything.

It had been no less than three days ago since Rick had shown up, bleeding and ragged, at 3:00 a.m. on the Smith's doorstep. It had been six months; six full months since he had disappeared, turning himself into the government and sacrificing his freedom so that Morty and his family could return to their home on Earth. By then, the rest of space had grown tired of touring Earth, leaving intergalactic security sparse and uninterested enough for Rick to arrive undetected. Beth nearly woke the neighbors from her sobbing, and even Jerry seemed a bit relieved to see the scientist alive. Rick's escape had nearly cost him his life, but as always, he survived with a few broken ribs, some gashes, and a whole slew of bruises, new and old.

Since then, every time Rick had woken up, Morty was there checking on him, staring at him or at least doing a shitty job at pretending like he wasn't staring at him. His face usually wasn't that red unless Jessica was around… or he was running from something trying to kill him. Either way, it was decidedly different and noticeable. Rick's thoughts couldn't help but drift toward what had happened on one of their last few adventures together. It hadn't been much; Morty had gotten scared and grabbed his hand suddenly, a small gesture, but one that had left them both, mostly Morty, reeling with confusion for a few days. Morty disappeared into the safety of his room for the better part of a week after, and even still, got a little too flustered whenever Rick was within a few feet from him. Obviously the past six months hadn't erased that strange tension between them.

Breaking the small silence, Rick's raspy voice started up again, "Hey, u-uh Morty, could you go get me another glass of, uh, water or somethin', my throats pretty dry you know. Thanks." "S-sure Rick! I'll be uh, uh right back-" Morty scurried off, almost tripping over a pile of miscellaneous clothes and garbage on the ground, eager to do anything to help his grandfather. Free of Morty's nervous presence, the older man snickered, then decided to try standing up. "Alright, you old.. you old geezer." he mumbled to himself, slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. It didn't fit him to be stuck in a bed for longer than the four hours he usually slept.

Morty opened the door to the kitchen and sighed heavily. "You f-fuckin', you idiot Morty, stop being so nervous. Ya dope. Jesus-" he muttered, filling the relatively dirty glass back with tap water from the sink. He paused for a second, then opened the medicine cabinet and took out some regular, over-the-counter Advil. He was so nervous that he could feel the heat coming off of his own face. Rick had been asleep or unresponsive for the greater part of the last three days, so he didn't have to interact with him as closely as he was now. The truth was, he hadn't heard more than a mumbled sentence from Rick until today, and just the sound of his voice caused him to shake. "Okay.. okay, g-get your shit together, Morty." He continued to himself, carrying the glass and accompanying pain medicine back to Rick's room.
"He-Here, Rick-" he started, but abruptly stopped when he gazed up, and nearly ran into the taller man, who had propped himself up against the doorframe, wobbling only slightly and bent over in pain. "What.. what do you think you're doing?! You're, jeez, Rick, you're really hurt." Morty stuttered, face growing red both from worry and the sudden closeness of their faces. "I'm fuckin, I'm fine Morty, you little, l-little piece of shit, Morty!" Rick huffed, glaring down at the squirming teenager, "I'm.. I've been fucked up worse than..worse than this. Why the hell are you so..so freaked out?" Rick looked down at the kid, and noticed that he looked genuinely upset with the situation and decided to curb his anger for a bit. "I'll, I'll sit doAUGwn Morty, fine." Wincing with effort, he limped the few steps back to the messy bed, shooing Morty away when he tried supporting him. Morty avoided eye contact, and hurriedly handed Rick the water and medicine he had nearly just spilt. Rick looked down, noting that the kid's hands were shaking slightly. He popped the pill into his mouth and threw the entire glass back in one impressive swig. Taking his time, he set the glass back down onto the bedside table, then sighed, resting his gaze lazily onto his grandson, "So, uh, what's your deal, M-Morty?" his tone was accusatory, but not angry, "I haven't.. I haven't seen you this spooked since uh, since you were dancing with uh, whatsername, Jessica." Morty was mortified and quickly started to deny it, "What? N..No Rick, I dunno what you're...what you're talking about, I-" Rick stopped him with a single finger on the boy's lips, causing Morty to blush harder, "Don't you.. fuckin'.. lie to me, M-Morty. I'm a.. goddamn genius. Spit it out, what's wrong with you?" he rasped, his tone accusatory and confused.

Morty took a step back, his face red now for a different reason, "Wha..what's wrong with me? What the hell is w-wrong with you, R-Rick?" He asked, his voice rising shrilly, "What you did.. was really..really fucked up, okay?" The biting words couldn't seem to stop bubbling from his lips, and Rick tried interrupting, "Yo, hey, M-Morty, calm down, it's..fuckin' the middle of the night, Morty. Your parents are-" "OH NOW you c-care about my parents? You.. you left us, R-Rick!" Morty angrily wiped away a stray tear that had begun to trickle down his cheek, and continued, shaking with anger and embarrassment at the sudden outburst, "Six fucking MONTHS, you've been.. you've been gone. And what.. what did you think would happen to m..me, huh?" Rick was taken aback, not used to his grandson even coming close to articulating his feelings. Unable to come up with a witty remark, he leaned back, patiently, yet intently waiting for the boy to get it out of his system, "I mean, I.. I can't believe you.. you left us! You left m-me! After that.. thing. That thing that happened where we..uh, y'know. I just." He struggled to continue, the anger finally leaving his voice, "I couldn't stop f-fuckin'..thinking about you, R-Rick."
Rick was speechless, at least for the moment. What in the hell was this all about? Was he reading this all wrong? He'd never seen Morty like this before, the kid was struggling to keep even the pathetic amount of composure that he usually had. A strained silence fell over them, and Morty couldn't bring himself to look at Rick. "H-hey, Morty." Rick's voice was soft, but broke the tension, and Morty looked up, ashamed and afraid of what the older man's expression would be. Meeting each other's eyes, it was Rick's turn to look away, sighing, "I'm.. jesus, I'm sorry Morty. It was.. it was all I could do. To protect you." He cleared his throat, and busied himself by taking a sip of his flask. Morty's big brown eyes widened at the unusually honest tone his grandfather just uttered those words. "Wha..whaddya mean?" He sniffled, then wiped his runny nose absently on his arm. Rick glared at him, "You know.. what I mean, you li-little shit." He saw the dumb, snotty expression on his grandson's face and sighed, elaborating, "If I didn't give myself u-up, you would've had to live on that shitty small-ass planet. You deserve b-better than that, kid."

Mustering up all the courage he had, Morty got onto the bed and crawled up to lay next to Rick, curling into his broken body just as he had imagined himself doing every night that Rick had been imprisoned. "Eeerugh, Morty… isn't it..kinda weird to uh, cuddle your grandpa?" The older man said slowly, careful not to upset Morty's fragile feelings. Almost annoyed, Morty gingerly slid an arm around Rick, then made a point of snuggling into his chest, "Shut..shut up, Rick." the teenager mumbled, closing his eyes and falling silent. Confused, but not enough to disturb Morty, who let's face it, looked pretty cute curled up next to him, Rick let out a small sigh and allowed himself to sink back into unconsciousness, where he nearly always felt… certain.

to be continued..