Disclaimer: I don't own "Rick and Morty". I wouldn't want to, because Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland give it their own, and they make it work! But, that being said, do keep in mind that I also don't live have a spaceship, or live on an alien planet unlike our own. A girl can dream though….right? ;)

Author's Note: Just to mention...this chapter gets pretty dark and twisted and kind of fucked-up scary. (Always platonic, no worries about that one ever, with any of my stories.) And please keep in mind...this story won't exactly have the happiest ending (it is going to be darkly bittersweet) and for that, I'm dreadfully sorry...but not all stories can have happy endings and, sometimes, a story needs you to go places you don't exactly want to go. If anyone sounds OOC here, just know it was pretty hard to imagine Rick like this, but-he's pretty crazy in the head right now. He won't be forever. Just bare with me.

When Morty got home from school he next day, the house was eerily empty (his father was typically home, as he was in desperate search of a new job after being fired from his old one). That is, it was eerily empty save for Rick, who was working as usual in the garage.

Typically, the first thing Morty would do when he got home would be to grab a snack and a drink from the fridge and visit Rick to see what he was up to. This day, however, Morty didn't feel much like talking, and Rick was the last person he wanted to see after the night before.

Besides, it was really troubling him that Rick seemed to either not remember what had happend, or didn't care- and Morty wasn't sure what was worse, that he didn't care, or he didn't remember. Both scenarios were equally disturbing and he didn't know how to confront the man about it. He was actually relieved that nobody else was home because all he wanted to do was sleep.

After passing out on his bed, he woke up to his mother knocking and calling him for dinner. "N-not hungry," was his muffled response from under the bed covers. His mother promptly came in without knocking and lifted a concerned hand to her son's forehead.

"Well….you don't feel warm…." Beth didn't know what to make of Morty's behavior; her son had never missed a meal in his life.

"...stomach ache," Morty mumbled into his pillow, "something I ate at, at school I guess…" Just please go away, he wanted to tell her, my head is killing me, Rick's gone crazy, and I really don't want to talk about it.

"Okay honey, you rest," Beth allowed, "let me know if you change your mind and get hungry later- I'll bring it to you."

"Th-thanks Mom." Morty felt himself nodding off and didn't have the heart to stop himself from letting it happen. He quickly fell back asleep.

His arm was warm.

No- this wasn't just warmth.

It was PAIN.

It was an unbearable, stinging, bburning, searing pain- a pain unlike Morty had never felt in his life-

-an overwhelming pain that shot through him and lead to a scream exploding from his gut, one that was so loud that he shot upwards in bed, and then nearly passed out again because his arm felt like it was on fire.

And there-there was Rick- standing right over his bed, grinning like a maniac as Morty tried not to whimper as he cradled his burning arm. Eyes widening as his mind slowly regained consciousness, Morty stared down in astonishment at his arm, where a large red welt was beginning to form- both terrified and horrified, Morty saw Rick removed a lit cigarette from his lips and blow a cloud of smoke in his direction.

The smoke distracted him slightly from the pain as Morty struggled to breath, coughing and hacking, staring up at Rick with hurt in his eyes, a lump in his throat, shivering in the dim light from the lamp on his nightstand.

"Rick…." Morty whimpered, "...why?"

"Isn't it obvious MORTY." Rick shook his head with a sneer. "You're not real- thus, I can do whatever I fucking please with you! Whatever it is, you're not really hurt- so don't be such a baby about it because you're seriously killing the mood."

"What!?" Morty's head was in a spin and he wanted to throw up. "Are- are you serious Rick!? Of- of course I'm real!" Morty felt tears welling up in his eyes and angrily flicked them away. "I- I've always been real! I- I don't understand…." Morty sniffed as he hugged his stinging skin. "What...why are doing this to me? I- I never did anything to you-"

"Oh come off it Morty- sure you have." Rick stalked the room back and forth as though agitated by the statement, seeming completely indifferent to the pain his grandson was currently in. "At least-your no-simulated counterpart did- if it weren't for needing you, do you know where I'd be right now, MORTY? I'd be traveling the universe, without a care in the world! But of course, here I am Morty-" Rick nearly spit the word in his face- "stuck here, with this stupid excuse of a family on this stupid excuse for a planet."

"...Rick…." Morty tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "...but...but…" He cringed as another wave of pain shot through him and he shivered, sniffling. "We're your family!"

"HA! Right." Rick snickered manically. "You're my holographic family. How fucking convenient."

"Rick! My-I'm hurt!" Morty cried out, as he held up his arm for Rick to see- but the man simply turned away, only his back facing him. "Jeeze Rick…" Morty was trying desperately hard not to cry. "What-what happened to you? I- I don't get it! Why are you acting this way? Why did you- why are you hurting me like this?"

"Oh come on you can whine a little better than that, can't you, MORTY?" Rick rolled his eyes as if disgusted by Morty's words. "I mean, the REAL Morty whines all fucking day-but at least he does it with gusto, like he really means it! This," Rick shook his head, "is just half-assed pathetic." At that, Rick blew another ring of smoke in Morty's direction. "You want to prove yourself to me, Morty?" Rick leered at him as he held the cigarette but out to him. "Here-take a drag….then, stamp it out-on me."

"What!? NO!" Morty's eyes grew wide as he stared down at the lit butt in horror. "Rick-I can't, I'm not doing that! This-this-this is, this is CRAZY!" Morty's eyes fled to the door in a panic. "I- I'm gonna go tell Mom-"

"The fuck you're NOT!" Rick's hand had gripped his other unharmed arm in a vice, and yanked him backwards, so quickly Morty nearly fell over. "You do that and they're gonna say you- you're a FAILURE, Morty! You hear me?! You're a failure, a no-good, a nothing-is that really what you want to become, MORTY!?"

"At least I'm not a crazy psychopath!" The words left Morty's lips before he could stop them.

"TAKE THE FUCKING CIGARETTE!" Rick shouted, sticking it abruptly in Morty's hands; the lit butt burnt his fingers and, yelping, Morty dropped it on the floor. "GREAT!" Rick was even more pissed now than before; Morty had never seen him so angry, and it terrified him. He watched with horror as Rick scrambled to pick up the still partially lit cigarette. "Here-" Rick forced the butt into Morty's hands, and Morty, his fingers trembling, finally managed to take hold of it. "Stamp it out," Rick growled darkly as he leaned forward, close enough so that Morty could smell the alcohol on his breath, "and do it now."

"But-but-" Morty choked out the words as his entire body trembled, "I- I don't want to- to hurt you-"

"Too late!" Rick snapped, yanking Morty's good arm forward, "STAMP!"

"Rick…"

"NOW!"

Cringing and shutting his eyes, Morty slowly brought the butt forward and, before he could change his mind (though Rick probably wouldn't have let him) he pressed the butt down on Rick's skin.

Rick let out what Morty could only describe as half-laughter an half crazed cackle as the cigarette burned deep into his skin. "Oh yeah baby! THAT'S the stuff!" Rick snickered devilishly as a pleased grin came over his features. "C'mon, Mort, remind good ol' Grandpa that he's real! Keep it on there, let it burn!"

Morty felt the tears escape from his eyes, he couldn't help it. He'd never experienced anything like this in his life. He didn't know what to do; he could only imagine what had happened to Rick to make him like this. This was like a living nightmare he couldn't seem to wake up from. He held the butt in place a few seconds longer before Rick collapsed, subconsciously drooling at his feet, and Morty ran for the bathroom, where he puked up his insides for at least a half hour, after which he scrambled for the medicine cabinet and found the first Aid kit, with which he used to, tears still streaming, bandage Rick's arm, and then his own.

"I'm...so sorry," Morty whispered through his tears, grateful that nobody else had managed to get woken up during the whole fiasco. "Oh God Rick….I'm just so sorry."