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"You are days late, Morty. Face it, you cannot wake up now."

       Morty growled lowly, trying to figure it out once again. He had no idea how much time had passed anymore, but people had stopped visiting. There was nobody anymore, no colors flitting about.

       And his vision was completely clear. He could see everything, everyone. But they still had a respective color of sorts, which was odd, but everything about Morty's situation was odd, so he thought very little of it, in the end. 

       "You say this all the time," Morty grumbled, "but I felt something."

"Probably Satan sneezing," the disembodied voice snickered in the corner.

       Morty rolled his eyes. This... thing... could switch between English major and dumbass at a moments notice. "I WANNA WAKE UP!" Morty screamed when he finally quit trying. The air was littered with diamonds, and he had come to realize they never went away. He just cried and they remained forever. 

"You know, not everybody's tears turn into diamonds. You must have been treated like a king or something. That's the only way that happens."

       "SHUT UP!" Morty barked, looking down at his body again. The stupid tubes, the damn wiring, all of it was... stupid. "I want out of here," Morty whispered, frustrated tears escaping to join the others. He had tried forcing them all into one corner at one point, but they just flitted back and filled the room once more.

"It's possible to drown in diamonds," the voice said matter-of-factly. "Just ask Morty! He'll tell you all about it! NOW GIVE UP! I told you, you got limited time. And you failed."

       "I don't fail!" Morty bantered, sitting on the edge of his own cot. He had tried several times to hit his body, but it did nothing. 

"They stopped visiting because they could feel it," the voice said, finally with some sympathy.

       "What do you mean?" Morty questioned softly after a moment. He would always be curious, no matter how annoyed.

"They felt the shift. They can sense that you can no longer wake up, and so they have given up on you."

       Morty couldn't handle it. He began to weep harder. If they could feel it, then, surely, it had to be true.

"Quit your bitching," Morty heard, looking around. There was a woman, standing in the corner, with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She was very beautiful, really, and... almost familiar.

       "Who are you?"

"Hey! You know how this goes!"

"And so do you," the strange woman shot back to the voice. "I'm Diane."

       "I have no idea who you are still," Morty grumbled, brushing the diamonds away from his face, "but at this point I don't care. Why are you here?" 

"Because I'm tired of dealing with Rick's bullshit, always bitching while I'm stuck at my own grave."

"Exactly! You're not supposed to leave!"

"Shut it, Reader."

       "What?" Morty mumbled, sinking down onto his cot again.

"You need to understand. You can still wake up. There's nothing keeping you here but the Author."

       "What the hell are you talking about? Like, stories?"

"No. I mean the god of all of this. It's a complicated (and probably stupid and offensive) system really, but I'll dumb it down for you."

       Resentful as Morty was, he wanted to hear all of this, especially if the way to wake up was hidden within her words somewhere.

"The Author is your god right now, Morty, and only yours. The Readers follow what they say. That 'voice' is half reader/half author. It comes down to a stupid collab thing that busted and now it's split in half, having to listen to the original Author but still trying to take over. That Reader has a split personality because it doesn't know if it wants you to wake up, but the other Readers do. So," Morty watched as Diane took a long drag before stepping on the cigarette, watching it transform into a red smoke and disappear, "they had a meeting. The other Readers are tired of this, and it's time they woke you up."

"Shoo!"

       Morty watched as Diane disappeared with an eye roll, yelling out nonsensical phrases now as he tried to bring her back. "What did you do that for?!"

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard of. Readers and Authors? Seriously? Is that the best 'plot twist' she could throw at you? This is all turning into the worst thing ever. The plot is destroyed, and the world you're currently living in is falling apart. That wasn't even a funny fourth wall break or anything. This is really a shit chapter in your life, Morty. Literally."

       Morty huffed, "I just want to wake up. I'm tired of this. Why can't you just tell me how so I can go away and you can do whatever it is you do?"

"I already told you. Your time is up."

       "Like... death is coming?"

"No. I've been here this whole time."

       "WHAT?!" Morty screeched, clutching his chest and looking around hurriedly.

"Kidding! I get so bored, I amuse myself."

       "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of this hospital. I'm tired of these beeps. I'm tired of the wires, not being able to dream, not being able to leave. I'm tired of this television show. But," Morty's voice dropped low and he snarled before continuing, "I'M TIRED OF YOU MOST OF ALL."

        It didn't take more than a second for the world to disappear around Morty all over again.

       Morty sat up with a short snort, looking around. He patted his chest, his arms, and-- shit.

       "How am I still here?!" he bellowed, peering around the room. Diamonds still littered the area.

"Because none of that was real. And what the actual hell was up with that Authors and Readers thing?"

      "I don't even know what happened," Morty grumbled, standing now. "I really..." more diamonds... "I really thought I was gonna wake up."

"That's not how this works."

       "I don't think any of this is how it works. I shouldn't be here. I should be there," Morty pointed at his body. "Nobody visits anymore, and I . . . If I can't wake up, can I just die?"

"No."

       Morty heard a strange tone to the voice, "Why?"

"I'm tired of this stupid game."

       "What?"

"None of this is important anymore. I'm bored with you. I'm leaving, and it's up to you to wake up and end this shitty movie spoof because I'm so done with it."

       Morty looked around, feeling a shift in the atmosphere. "Wait!"
       Nothing.

        The brunet sighed, numb anymore at this point. If he ever got to tell this story to somebody, they'd lock him up. He must really be insane.

       "I don't know if we're even the same person anymore," he whispered, looking down upon his body. "Are we?"  

       Morty laid down beside himself, awkwardly sinking into the body before he managed to solve that issue. "Do you remember the man that was talking to us? I think we should listen to the voice, and wake up. For him."

       Morty sniffled, looking at his own form. Scrutinizing it.

       "Somehow."