(Hey Guys! Here is my first short Rick and Morty fic. I tried to incorporate the boys' stuttering and Rick's burping/ repetition of Morty's name into their speech, so I hope you can still understand what is being said. If you can't, please let me know and I will try to fix it. I am so excited to hear feedback from someone, as I had a lot of fun writing this!

I can't wait for season 2 of Rick and Morty, and hopefully something along these lines will happen in the actual show.

WARNING: A few swear words here and there. Also, those with a weak stomach might be slightly bothered, as there is a part where a character vomits. I tried to spare the yucky details. :)

Please enjoy!)

We Can Fix This

"H-Hey, Rick. Will you help me with this math homework? Obviously infiltrating my teacher's dreams didn't fix my F... So I should probably do at least one homework assignment this year, you know? R-Right, Rick?"

"C-Can't you just gooOUUGHgle it? Use Yahoo answers? I'm a little too b-busy for reducing fractions right now, Morty."

"Aw, C-Come on, Rick. How many times have I helped you... W-When you really needed i-"

"Not enough, Morty, I (belch) a-a-actually need you to hold this tube while I go fetch some hydrochloric acid... W-Wait, that's it! TaAUGHHke this, Morty-"

"Wait, wha-!?"

Rick shoved a tablet into Morty's mouth, which he instinctively swallowed. Morty had no idea what it was, other than it was making him feel... ill. He quickly grew pale, before leaning over and regurgitating that morning's breakfast. Rick quickly shoved a glove on in the midst of this and held the tube under Morty's mouth as he violently vomited on the garage floor. Morty gasped and moaned between each wretching episode, until it was finally finished. Rick's expression remained unimpressed.

"There. G-Geez Morty, you gave me too much, the tube is overf- (belch) filling!"

"Uggh... Rick... What.. what was that..?!"

"Don't worry about it Morty, I need to use this to test something, Morty."

"Wh-... You need my puke to-"

"YES, MoUORGHrty. God, do I have to spell everything out for you? I needed this to test a miniature boat ride I'm creating for anoOUGHther Anatomy Park! You slide down the esophagus and splash right into the stomach acid. Like... like a-a splash mountain, or something. "

"W-Wow Rick... that sure does sound fun... And safe. For a family ride. Very safe."

"Nice sarcasm, MoUORGHty. Why do you think I'm testing this, Morty?! I'm making sure it can withstand the corrosion of hydrochloric acid, that's why I made you puke. Why am I even listening to your criticism, go awa-"

"Rick! I really need your help! Please! For just this once. I just puked my guts up for y-"

"Yep, and you're gonna clean it up. Mop's over (belch) there, i-in the corner."

Rick waved his hand dismissively in the direction of the mop, carefully yanking the vomit-covered glove and setting it in the trash behind him while he poured Morty's stomach contents into a tiny glass pool. He then placed a cutely painted miniature boat into it, and examined it with a magnifying glass.

"All good so far," he said, proud of his work.

Morty let out a defeated sigh, his throat a little irritated from the forced vomiting. Why is it Rick was never willing to give him help when he was always at his side for experiments? It wasn't fair. He didn't care about him. All he cares about is having a test dummy for his stupid little projects and inventions.

"Y-y'know what? No! No, no. I'm not gonna clean it. A-and I'm not helping you anymore, Rick. With anything! Y-you're the reason I'm failing this class. Getting away from you will fix... well, it'll fix everything! I-I'm done, Rick!"

Morty stormed out of the room and slammed the door as hard as he could before Rick could get a word in. He let out an annoyed breath. This kid was always whining about something. Doesn't he know by now that the world doesn't revolve around him? What a brat. Even so, it was evident that in order to keep Morty as his assistant, he would have to make it up to his grandchild somehow or another. This isn't the first time he's claimed to be "done" with helping Rick. He took a swig from his flask tucked in his lab coat pocket, and dropped the magnifying glass. He groaned slightly while standing up to head for the garage door, thinking to himself that moving around wasn't as easy as it used to be. Time to track the kid down. Morty was probably pouting in his room.

He made his way through the hall, scratching his head in contemplation. What was he going to say? Rick was never good with words. Anyone in the house would be willing to vouch for that. What if Morty really meant what he said this time? Would Rick really have the heart to use his offer of a replacement Morty? At times like this, it was tempting. His fingers slipped, scratching against the bald spot on his scalp, reminding him of his old age. Damn, he should really make some kind of serum that makes his hair grow back. And cook up something to fix his achy knees, while he was at it.

His deteriorating health was just a reminder that he wasn't going to live forever. If he had learned anything from his experiments, it was that you can never expect what will happen next. He could die tomorrow... What kind of impression would he have left behind? How would he be remembered? Should he even care? After all, Jerry's an idiot. And Summer is an annoying bitch of a granddaughter. And Beth, well, he knew he was okay there. She was his baby girl. But Morty... Rick was closer to Morty than anyone in the house. Had he pushed him away the farthest?

He reached Morty's bedroom door, pausing. What was he going to say? His thick brow scrunched. Anything he says would probably only make things worse. As usual. He leaned down, to peek through the key hole. Morty was sitting on his bed, his math text book open in his lap. Morty's head was leaned over, his hands cupping his face. Rick thought he heard a few soft sobs. Was Morty really crying? Why? Over a homework sheet? Or was it more than that? Rick straightened back up and cleared his throat, before tapping the door 3 times. 30 Seconds passed. Morty wasn't coming to the door. He reached for the knob, attempting to turn it. It wouldn't budge. Morty had locked the door.

"Morty, come on... Y-You really doOUUGHn't think tha-that I have ways of getting through this door? I-"

Rick stopped, the sound of soft footsteps against the bedroom carpet distracting him. The door then slowly creaked open, ever slightly, and the footsteps could be heard again as the teary eyed boy walked back to the other side of the room. Rick accepted this invitation and pushed the door open the rest of the way, as Morty sat back down on his bed, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

"I... only opened the door s-.. so you wouldn't try to shoot a laser through it. Th-then I would have no privacy, a-and Dad might see me watchi-"

"Yeah yeah, I know, I've s-(belch) seen your search history. You have a thing for redheEAA-(belch)-heads."

"Shut up, Rick..."

"Heh... Hey. I'm just-"

"W-What do you even want?!"

"..."

Rick was caught off guard by Morty's snapping. He looked down at the text book. It was turned towards the first chapter, where the easiest concepts were first introduced. Morty's math class had covered that section at the beginning of the year. It was approaching May now, and the class is likely using the back of the book. Morty was desperately trying to review the content he had been forced to miss out on. No wonder he was struggling.

"... Morty. This is... this is easy-"

"It's not easy to me, Rick! C-Cause you made me miss school! I hate.. I hate you."

... Wow. Hate? Really? That stung. Pretty badly. Almost as badly as hearing it from his ex-wife, so many years ago. His eyebrow furrowed, and lips pursed into a tight line, as he was trying as hard as he could to keep the pain from showing on his face.

"Well... Morty, you.."

He trailed off. How do you even respond to that? His wrinkled, calloused hands reached for the text book, setting it on Morty's bedside table so that he could sit beside his grandson.

"...You hate me."

"Yes, Rick! That's what I said! I h-hate you."

"..."

He placed a hand on his grandson's shoulder, who was now cupping his face in his hands again, suppressing sobs. He jerked Rick's hand away, finally letting out a muffled cry. Rick then forcefully grabbed Morty's shoulders, turning him in his direction and pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Morty! S-"

He paused, squeezing his grandson. The sudden realization hit him that this was the first time he had ever given Morty a hug. The first time he had affectionately held him since he was a baby. This was his grandson... 14 Years, and not a single hug. Rick was never very good at showing love or conveying emotions, but even so... He wondered how the boy would react to the contact.

"...Stop."

Morty didn't resist this time. He accepted the embrace, balling his fists up in Rick's shirt with stinging eyes. He cried and cried, shaking and soaking Rick's clothes with his tears as he pressed his face against his grandfather's chest. Rick could feel the hot gusts of air and tears against him between Morty's sobs. The boy was really upset. He looked back at the door, making sure no one in the family was peeking in at them, and he pat his grandson's head lovingly. He hesitantly combed his fingers through Morty's thick hair, and sat in silence. He needed to let him cry. He knew Morty must have had a lot of built up frustration, but... He didn't know it was this bad. But he knew now. He also knew, however, they could fix this. He was starting to fight the urge to cry, himself. He slowly pulled away from the boy, looking him in the eyes and pulling the flask from his lab coat once again. There wasn't enough alcohol in the world he could drink to fix this shit.

"M-Morty.. Look. I-It's FriIIHHHDHay night. This stuff isn't due until Monday. Let's... let's juUUGHSt go watch some infinite tv for a while. I'll help with this later. Huh? Okay, Morty?"

Morty shook his head, pulling Rick closer to him once again.

"N-...no."

Morty muffled, his voice hoarse. He wiped at his bloodshot eyes and inhaled a shaky breath.

"No. L-let's just sit like this for a while... Okay, Rick?"

Rick couldn't help but smile slightly. He squeezed Morty again, slightly tighter than before, and leaned his head against the boy's. That was just fine with him.

"Alright... you little gooOUUHff ball."

Morty laughed softly, finally smiling. They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other's contact, before Rick said,

"...I know you don't hate your grandpa, Morty. And I... I loOUUGHve my grandson. So much."

(There it is! I just adore these 2 so much. Hope you liked reading it as much as I did writing it! :))