Morty rocked in the corner, watching Gary and Gene leave like they'd been planning to do. They had been discussing it for a while.

"There's no use. He just ain't coming around, Gene."

"I know. But... I wanna be here, if he does."

"How about we go home for a day, at the most, and I'll see if somebody else he knows can come around? It's been over a week."

"Okay."

       The two left after a short time, Morty watching orange put their appendage around green as they walked out. Honestly, he didn't blame them. He didn't feel like he was gonna wake up anytime soon, either.

       "When I die," Morty sang quietly, "hallelujah, by and by, I'll fly away." The brunet listened to his own voice break, sitting down on the edge of his own hospital bed. The bandages were gone, from his hands and his head. "To a land where joys will never end," Morty sniffled, wiping his nose. "I'll fly away."

       "God," he hung his head, slinking off to his corner, "why can't I just die?"

"Because he needs you."

       "Who's there?" Morty looked around quickly, though he saw nobody.

"I'm sorry I left you. I had to help somebody else."

       "Are you the one that's always telling me to wake up?"

"Yes."

      Morty almost leapt for joy. "Does this mean I can still wake up?!"

"My absence or presence does not decide that. You've always been able to, regardless. That child was just playing a game. Pay it no mind."

       Morty ran around the room now, happy as ever.

"Do not rejoice too much. You have limited time to unlock the answer."

       "How long?"

       Morty felt a shift in the air, a wave of uneasiness.

"I do not wish to frighten you. But it is not long at all. You must hurry."

       Rick stood outside the brunet's hospital room once again. Gary and Gene had finally just come to his house and barged in, finding Rick playing on the Xbox in his pajama bottoms, surrounded by pop tarts and beer bottles. After making him smell less like a french whore house that caught fire, the two had sent Rick towards the hospital. But the man didn't mind. It was too hard to live without the brunet, but he had to anyways. So maybe just friends of a sort. No sex, no kissing, no cuddling. Just acquaintances.

      No! Rick kept reminding himself that they couldn't talk at all. If the kid woke up, this would be the only time he ever saw Rick again.

       Morty sat in his corner, pulling all the stops. He had to unlock the secrets. He had to wake up. The doctors declared him officially not brain dead, which really helped, but they discussed his likeliness of being paralyzed in several ways.

"You can do it! Do it for him!"

       "Who am I doing this for?" Morty questioned once he lost his conversation. He looked over now, seeing a blue entity that must have been there for a while. He hadn't noticed them before, though.

"Hi, Morty."

       Rick sat on the hospital bed, looking down at the brunet whom still looked like an angel somehow, even surrounded by this mess. Really, it was amazing. His dark little angel of sorts. 

       It was strange. When they got away from everything - the club, the smoke, alcohol, the shootouts, everything hectic - Rick and Morty were completely different people. But, somewhere along the way, that was forgotten. That was how they got into this mess. They saw the ugly side of each other more frequently and came to realize they didn't like it as much as they had in the beginning. Rick was too cruel, and Morty, too uncaring. But when they were alone, Morty was loving and Rick was affectionate. They hadn't had a free moment. It was always work, always stress. They never used their vacation days to catch up, to reminisce, to love one another. Instead, they fought and sulked throughout all of their time.

        "I brought you something," Rick spoke quietly, heart heavy in his chest. He had John's old lion, Morty's favorite attachment for his key chain. His first kids toy. He must have forgotten about it at some point.

       Rick had cleaned it up, made a few repairs, but kept the age that came with a good toy used by a toddler. He wondered how old John would be. Probably pushing twelve now. God, time sure flew. He would have loved AJ. Morty would have loved to go down to Michigan and see them again. But he never did. He stayed for Rick.

       And that was the breaking point. The only thing wrong with them was they were too stubborn to see what was causing the issues. They refused to acknowledge what was actually right and wound up driving one another away incessantly. Morty gave up so much just to try with Rick. He gave up so much just to put forth an effort to remain with the man in any way possible. He tried. He sacrificed. And he broke. So many times, he broke.

       Rick set the small lion, Leo, on the bed beside Morty, silent tears cascading down his features. He pulled the bowtie Morty used to wear out of his pocket, placing it on the wrist that wasn't adorned with the brunet's hospital tag. 

       "Do you -- " Rick paused to chuckle, making sure nobody was listening in case he sounded weird for talking to a comatose person.

        "Do you remember what I told you? About the first time I saw you? I always mess that story up, even in my memory. But I got it now. I was so mad at Gary. I thought he let somebody that musta been sixteen into my bar. Thought he was dumb enough to fall for a fake ID, maybe, or somethin' of the sorts. I didn't know what to make of you. You were so afluent in your work, so ready to do anything. Yea, I told the truth when I said I thought you were the rich kid trying to piss of his parents getting a job on his own in a club like this, but I didn't know what to make of you. I had to stop myself from thinking about all the unwanted attention you could bring in. You know, cops come in, start saying you ain't old enough? Bad for business." Rick tisked tauntingly, curling up alongside the brunet on the cot now as best he could. He laid near his side, his head propped up on one fist while his free hand ran up and down the brunet's left arm. 

       "And you were always laughing, talking. You-- That bar had been waiting for you since I bought that joint." Rick looked at the brunet's curls, wishing they still held that vanilla scent they used to, instead of whatever it was the hospital used that smelled of almost bleach. It was murder on the nose. 

       The man got a faraway look in his eyes then, moving to toy with the brunet's curls gently, knowing he was still somewhat healing.

"I wish I could say you were made for me, but I dunno anymore. We fight too much, you know? We're too stubborn. I'm old and you're young. We both think we know better, but I dunno how true that is." 

       Morty heard a rich chuckle, relishing in the warm feeling he got as he saw the form play with his body's curls and laid flush against him. More diamonds were in front of the brunet, and he saw that the other man had a few tears of his own.

       "I wish I knew what the right thing was to say, or maybe that I knew what to do when I piss you off so bad you run away. Maybe I shoulda been more romantic, huh? Decorated a room with roses and fluffy shit like that? I think you woulda like that. At any time, you'd say you don't, but I know you. You... you'd love that. You would have, anyway. I think, now, that would be the last thing you'd want. If you knew I was here, you'd probably be telling me to fuck off. And I tried doing that. I did. I don't want to fuck your life up again, but I don't even know if you're gonna wake up any time soon." Rick laid his head down beside Morty's, throwing his free arm carefully around the brunet and burying his face in his neck, continuing to speak even though it was muffled.

       "Did you ever wanna get married? Not to me, obviously. I think I know that answer," Rick chuckled sheepishly. "But.. I wonder if you ever wanted to settle down. You were upset when Jessica married that... B-whatever his name was dude. Did you ever wanna settle down like that, get away from this? Be a family man, a lover, maybe a dad to your own kid? I never did ask. I never asked half of what I should have. You knew so much about me." Rick shifted slightly, crying silently into the brunet's neck. "I wonder if you still know all of that."

       Morty wished he could hug whoever this warm man was. He'd never felt cozier throughout his stay here, in this stupid room.

"This is the only time you'll hear me say this, but don't wake up, kid."

       "What?!" Morty silently shrieked. "Why not?!"

"Because. It's the best thing for him. He can't get it all out when you're awake. You never let him. This is healthy."

       "I don't even know this man!"

"Not anymore. But you did. Maybe you'll know him again, someday, and it'll be better. You can restart, have that second chance you always wanted."

       "How do you know what I wanted?"

"Because I've always been with you."

       "I think you wanted to get married. I think you wanted a simple wedding ring, nothing too fancy, and a classic wedding, with maybe just your friends and family, not a whole damn town and a buncha folks with fat wallets. But not a Vegas wedding. No, I don't think you'd want that. I thought about it once. If you and I were to.. y'know, get hitched. It was funny. I was sitting on the couch, and I was wondering what it would be like. I thought I'd get you a nice ring, maybe a nice sized gold back, slim but not too skinny, y'know? And a couple o' stones. Maybe something small and opaque. And I thought about it, and I said, 'y'know what? I'd get 'te amo' engraved into the band, on the sides. Both sides. Te amo. Twice. Forever and ever. And we coulda maybe gotten married on the beach, if you wanted. You always did like it. Or maybe in your old church, for memory's sake. But, like I said, I know what your answer would be. I've done too much wrong in our time together on this earth. But you seem like a classic sweetheart. Not the kind of person that would dig a BMW for valentines day. You're more of the classic chocolate and movie type of kid. I dig that, y'know?" Rick sighed, staring at the wall across from him for a moment.

       "I woulda loved to take you on dates. You woulda loved them. Like I said, you're classic. You don't like expensive things unless they make your life easier, like a nice fridge or dishwasher. Not the type for random things. Except for clothes and jewelry. You always did like that. At least, you did once upon a time, anyways. Now, not so much. You grew up. Right in front of me. I wonder if I was responsible for some of that?"

       Rick felt himself growing tired, yawning carefully before he settled back into his position. 

       "How do we always wind up like this? You gettin' hurt, and it bein' my fault? You always run away. I guess that is on me, though. Too stupid, I guess. When it comes to this, I have no idea what I'm doing. And all that shit I pulled, getting freaky with other folks even after I promised I would change? Jesus, I'm stupid . . . . . . . . "

       And he fell asleep like that, curled up to Morty, the brunet listening, though not from where Rick expected. Because this was one of those rare moments where everything was almost fine in their world, where nothing could touch them. One of those moments where they understood, to an extent, that work couldn't affect them right now. They were just fine like this, but Rick wished Morty was awake and okay right now.