'John' sat on the couch, racing online players as he dominated Mario Kart. After all these years, he still dominated the track. 
       Sam was out going grocery shopping. 'John' was just getting used to spending time on his own again, declining the offer to tag along. All Sam had to do was be careful with 'John's car, or it'd be coming out of his ass.
       Light knocks destroyed 'John's winning streak, making him jump and fall off of Rainbow Road. He rage quit, shutting the system off before he checked the peep hole. "Hey, Gary. Is it just you?" 'John' questioned, peering around. Gary shook his head, "Nah. He's here, too, just finishing a phone call."
       "Oh. Well, I guess, don't mind the boxes." Gary shrugged, walking around as Rick wandered up the path. "Same to you," 'John' announced. "Just ignore the boxes. I never was the neatest person." Rick and Gary shrugged, walking around. 'John' had boxes stacked in the living room only, cluttering the far side so as to not take up too much space. "So you're leaving in, what, three days?"
       "Two," 'John' corrected. He cleared the couch of his gaming snacks and moved his previously discarded t-shirt elsewhere. He hadn't planned on company, clad in his gray pajama bottoms and cross. "Well, baby-face," Gary taunted, poking 'John's recently shaven chin, "I plan on at least saying goodbye this time. You know, instead of a text saying I'm stuck with DS over here." 'John' furrowed his brow, racking his brain. Gary gave him a second, laughing as the brunet finally got it. "What the hell does that even mean?" Rick complained, sitting beside Gary. "Nobody ever told me."
       'John' shrugged, "It's a secret. Maybe you'll never find out." Rick huffed, shoving his phone away as 'John' put his game consoles back in their box. "While you're here, you want a fair shot at taking down the champion?" 'John' offered, holding up a box. Gary all but leapt off the couch. "Move yer skinny ass outta my way. I'm gonna whup ya." 'John' laughed lightly, setting the console back up. 

       Halfway through a game of Gaga, Sam arrived home. 'John' was losing as the man walked in, Gary shouting triumphantly and making Sam drop something. 'John' huffed, "I told you. That was a more than fair chance, too. You beat me." 'John' bowed jokingly. "But I still have every high score so what's that mean?" He stuck his tongue out in a childish manner, surprising even himself as he ran through a few more songs. In the long run, Gary won, but 'John' still conquered a few songs.
       "I thought you gave up on that," Sam quipped, grabbing his comfy clothes and wandering to the bathroom to change. "Nah, just too a really long break." 
       The brunet set his Wii-mote down, powering the console off. "So what'd you stop by for? I'm kinda boring, you know."
       "Yea," Gary huffed, flopping onto the couch beside Rick. "You kinda are. You talk a lot, too, at church." The brunet knew he was only teasing by the shit-eating grin on his face, throwing a pillow from a box at him. "Fight me," he laughed, walking off to the kitchen. "I don't have much, but do you want a Cola or something? Haven't had beer in here since all that." 
       "Yea, sure," he heard. He grabbed enough for all of them, plus an extra for Sam, before he handed them out, leaving Sam's on an end table. 
       "We actually came by to tell you the club's probably going to shut down at the end of the month." 'John' paused as he put the console away, almost dropping it. "Why?" he questioned incredulously. "Hold on, before you answer," he finished shutting the box now, facing the two, "do not try and guilt trip me into anything."
       Gary held his hands up in defense, shaking his head. "Just thought you'd wanna know. We got new bouncers, new dancers. None of them wanted to be around thinkin' you were gone. Again, I assume full responsibility for this, but still."
       "Is he serious?" 'John' asked the only person that seemed to be awkwardly silent. Rick nodded, looking down at his phone. "Probably closing the last week."
        "Well what the actual hades?" 'John' questioned, dragging a bean bag chair over and sitting in front of the two. "It's been bad, really. I told you, you were the show," Rick reiterated. "Nobody comes around anymore. Business is shitty, and I got drunk off my ass, lost a lot of money."
       'John' pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "So it was also your fault, because your dumb ass couldn't just forget about me."
       "Don't you go putting this on me," Rick all but snarled. "I spent five years in hell because of that."
       "Like I didn't?" 'John' asked incredulously. "I lost everything because Sam thought-- no, he was told to delete every contact and picture I had. He even found my photosafe. I forgot what you even freaking looked like for the last year. You wanna talk about hell? At least I didn't put myself there." 'John' defended himself, practically challenging Rick. Instead of accepting, however, the man simply sighed, looking at the brunet with a fondness he hadn't seen since he'd first met Rick. "Don't you go making that face," 'John' warned. "I know what it means. It may have been a long time, but I know what it means. I'm pissed, you're not allowed to like it."
       Gary stared at 'John' with a furrowed brow while Rick just laughed. "He still knows the tricks. Gotta hand it to 'im, I guess. But I guess you're kinda right. I did put myself there. You're right."
       'John' stared incredulously. Rick had just backed down from a fight. The man.. backed down. 
       "Alright, don't go changing on me now. This is probably the last time I'm gonna see you guys because I have to do a lot of registry things tomorrow. So let's do something fun while we wait for Sam to get out of the bathroom!" The brunet heard a laugh, chuckling to himself. Sam always took forever, usually just sitting there on his phone until he remembered where he was. 
       "I actually have to get goin'," Gary sighed, looking down at his phone. "Skittles is sick and I forgot I had an appointment for him." 'John' gave a sympathetic 'aw' as Gary rose from the couch. "How are you getting home?" he asked Rick. "I can drive him," 'John' offered. Rick shrugged, "I guess that's how."
       "Alright." Gary leaned over and pulled 'John' into a hug. "Please come back," he whispered. "But if you leave, then good luck." He pulled away and 'John' smiled at him. "Bye, Gary. Thanks for everything you did." Gary smiled, waving sadly before he stepped out of the door.

       "Alright," 'John' sighed, standing and taking Gary's spot on the couch, practically hugging the arm. "I still have Hulu," he offered. Rick shrugged, "Sounds fine, kid." 'John' sighed at the nickname, pulling up Hulu. 
       "You watched my show?" Rick laughed lightly, watching 'John' go through his watch history. "Scared me every night, but yea. I finished it a while ago." Rick hummed in response, tuning in as 'John' played his newer show.

       "So you're leaving for good this time," Rick commented. "Out of state." 'John' nodded, shifting and removing his feet from beneath himself. "Yea. Minnesota's not too bad, I guess. There's a nice little church in a sweet town, they need a new pastor."
       "Do you have to leave?" he questioned now. "It's been five years. I haven't spoken to you after just finding out it was a lie, and you're disappearing again." 
       "There's nothing for me here," 'John' replied quietly. "It's dangerous for me."
       "You always say that!" Rick countered. "You always say it's too dangerous. You keep running away. Can't you just stay and face the problems?!" 
       'John' remained calm, not wanting to get pissed. "I already accepted the position. I can't go back on i-"
        "No. That's not a reason, Morty. That's not a valid reason. You can always go back on it, but you won't. Because you're running away from me. You never face the fucking problem, you just jump ship at the first sign of trouble!"
       "That's not true and you know it! I tried! When you fucking strangled me, I tried! I stayed, I faced that problem! When you were parading somebody else's bite mark on your neck, I tried to face the problem. I stuck around to fix it. You could have killed me, and I stuck around trying to fix it. Don't you dare tell me what I didn't do." 'John' was already pissed for being called out. Rick had called him Morty on top of it, which, for whatever reason, really irked him.
       Rick seemed to stop for a minute, processing everything 'John' had said. "You want to spend today arguing, then fine. Go get drunk and bitch at Gary. I don't want to fight with anybody. I wanted to relax and enjoy myself before I had to go to registry all damn day just to get away from this town."
       "Then stay. Stay here, and argue with me. And tomorrow, don't go to the fucking thing. Stay here, because they don't need you in Minnesota half as bad as I need you here. Remember that? Always, I said. I'll always need you. What the fuck am I supposed to do, wave it from a banner, climb the Eiffel tower and wave that flag. 'Morty, come back to me'? If that's what it takes, then fucking tell me, because I'll do it. Stay here, because I just spent five damn years going crazy without you, and I can't do it again. Stay here, because I need you." 
       'John' was conflicted. Rick had said that, and it was true. He had admitted to needing him once upon a time. He just told the brunet he would do anything to get him back, which clouded his judgement further. But the thing that got him most?
       Rick was crying. 'John' looked up, and Rick was crying. It wasn't some weird game for him to come back. And that was the thing. 'John' had spent the past hour thinking they were just trying to get him back because, to them, it was a game. But it wasn't. And 'John' wasn't 'John'. He was Morty. He was Morty, and that's who Rick needed.
       "Please," Rick whispered. He exhaled shakily and Morty didn't know what he was supposed to do with this. Rick was crying and he wasn't well-equipped to handle this.
       So Morty did the best he could. "Please," Rick asked again. Morty exhaled slowly, bringing his hands up and wiping the tears away as best he could. Rick was almost like a child, himself, right now. He placed his hands over Morty's, shutting his eyes for a moment. It was like meeting him all over again, meeting the man dying for a little human touch. Meeting the man broken ten times over and accepting the task of building him up again, even if it meant Morty had to destroy himself in the process. To repeat history.
       Morty was watching it all slip like sand through his fingertips. Pastor John was leaving. Morty Smith was returning, taking a bat to everything John had done and beating it mercilessly, crumbling it to nothing. 
       Morty watched as Rick calmed down, still holding his hands over Morty's as he exhaled shakily again. Morty was back, but he was doubting himself. He was going to break himself down to build Rick back up again, and he knew it wouldn't be what he pictured this time. He knew to expect something gruesome, something that would break him. And yet he found himself unable to say no. He was almost forced by his subconscious to consent.
       "Okay."