When you've lived a guarded life, any and all chances to explore on your own are taken without hesitation. So, when Morty was asked to visit Rick in his home, he hadn't denied the request. However, that was a week ago. He'd visited to watch a movie, finding that the house smelled of very pungent and disgusting perfume. 
       Now, after that lovely visit, Morty had been using the private room on the third floor. Being that it had been five years since anybody had set foot in the area, the brunet was only mildly surprised at the state of the room. Glasses were cleared away by he and Rick, a bit of dust brushed from the table. It wasn't much, but the two had still been somewhat required to clean the area. 
       Currently, Morty had been in the room for quite a while. He'd promptly asked Rick to leave so he could practice without any anxiety when it came to messing up in front of the man. To the honest surprise of the brunet, within the few hours he'd been in the room, he had fallen twice. The first was fine, he'd only slipped and landed on his feet when he'd tried to climb up the pole. The second time, he'd been hanging from the object, slipping and landing on his back. He'd remained on the floor for a moment, having fallen hard enough to knock the wind from himself, before he'd gotten back up again. It had taken almost an entire week, but the brunet was confident in himself again, confident in his abilities. He could move quickly again, could spin up, hang back, anything he used to do. He'd gotten back into it wonderfully and was feeling quite proud of himself. 
       There was really only one problem. Even if Morty was Morty again, he was still uncomfortable with the line of work he'd chosen. Not even a month ago, he'd been a happy pastor. It's hard, switching from a holy life to a life of sin, death, lust, and murder. He'd switched severely, going against everything he'd taught. Essentially, he'd made himself into a liar. He struggled to so much as remove the necklace Gary had given him, at the very beginning of everything, just to practice dancing. He'd been a holy man; a blessed, content man. He was having more problems with this than he'd expected. 
       He was once again working for a man with seemingly no moral compass, no understanding of right from wrong. He lived life with a 'no fuck's given' attitude. He killed for fun, he did what he wanted and didn't face the consequences simply because he'd built such a large name for himself. Morty had technically switched twice now. He'd gone from his life practically running the city to his life of heavy belief, only to go right back to the beginning. It simply didn't sit right with the man.

      "Morty?" 

       It took a moment, but the brunet registered the name, turning to find Rick standing curiously in the door way. It would be a while, and the boy knew it, before he could be used to the name again. 
       "Yea?" he called back, stepping from the platform and heading to the table holding his belongings. "Are you almost done? Usually, I'd be fine, but the cat's gone, so.." Rick trailed off, leaning against the door frame while Morty gathered his things. "Yea. I was just gonna go change back. I'm done practicing, got it all down. And, uh.. did you hear about Charles, at all?"
       Rick shook his head, "I haven't, really."
       "Well, I'm assuming you left my number on his tags. I got a call, a few years ago. Sam, obviously, answered it, and, uh.. it was the vet's office. Somebody found him on the streets, took him in. He was really sick, and not just from CH, so they had him put down. I guess, though, that they figured he'd run away. It was the same woman that had diagnosed him with CH and Sam told her that, y'know... I'd died, I guess. On the bright side, I'm not labeled a horrid pet owner."
       Rick sighed softly from his spot in the doorway as Morty gathered his things, leading the brunet to look up curiously. "I don't know how he got out. I swear, the only way he actually would have gone outside is if somebody threw him out the door. He was a literal pussy if ever there was one."
        "He was a fraidy cat. But he was a good cat, all the same. I was upset when Gary said I couldn't take him with me." Morty held his belongings now, shutting the different sets of lights off before he wandered from the room, hearing Rick shut the door while the brunet hurried down the stairs that still scared him half to death.

       When Morty finally made his way back from changing, tossing the shorts he'd borrowed in a hamper as he'd been asked to do, he found Rick sitting on the couch. The tv was on, but he was very clearly not paying attention to it. Morty rounded the couch, sitting on the opposite side and laying his knapsack on the floor near his feet. 
       The brunet found several messages from Sam when he decided to check his phone, not knowing it had been going off since he'd started practicing his dance again. 

(Sam)
Where'd you go?

(Sam)
Where's the peanut butter?

(Sam)
This place is a maze.

(Sam)
What'd you do with my dragon shirt?

(Sam)
Are you dead?

(Sam)
If you're dead, does that mean I can have your lava lamp?

(Sam)
Where's the Wii?

       Morty huffed, going over the messages before he pulled the keypad up. 

1) I'm at Rick's. I told you last week I'd be spending a lot of time here. You're too forgetful for your own good.
2) The peanut butter is hidden from you because you always eat it all and never tell me we're out of it. It's in the very last cupboard, the one we use for magnets and bag-clips.
3) It's only gonna be a maze for a little bit.
4) I washed that nasty thing.
5) I'm very much alive.
6) Even if I wasn't alive, I'd request to be buried with that lamp.
7) The Wii is in the small box in front of the tv. The games are in the second smallest box in the pile.

       The brunet, being fairly proud of his list, sent the message and decided to scroll through his iBooks store. He'd found a book a while ago, The Bride and The Brute, and he wondered if there were other stories by the same author. 

(Sam)
I am offended. I do not eat all the peanut butter. There's roughly 4% of the jar left, and I am generous enough to leave the rest to you.

(Sam)
And my shirt was not 'nasty'! If you ruin the design, I'll kill you. That thing is as precious as your car. 

(Sam)
Also, the Wii isn't there. :(((

       Morty pulled up his keypad once again, rolling his eyes and trying to think of where else the Wii would be if it wasn't in front of the tv.

(Sam)
Nvm, found it. I'm an idiot.

You're just now realizing this?

       Morty laughed, going back to his bookstore and scrolling through it again. 

(Sam)
THAT WAS UNCALLED FOR ;-;

       Morty laughed once again, shaking his head as he went to type out a reply.
       "Are you seeing somebody?" 
       The brunet paused his typing to face a very curious looking Rick, giving a short laugh. "You're joking, right?" he questioned. Rick shook his head. "No, but I am curious. Are you?"

It was necessary!

       "No. Why would you ask?" Morty questioned, setting his phone to the side. "It's been five years, I'm just trying to figure it all out," Rick defended, going back to his phone. 
       "I lived my life as a pastor under house arrest. You really think I had time to see anybody?" Morty laughed almost bitterly, grabbing his phone again.

(Sam)
You're a brute. I'm not leaving you any peanut butter.

YOU BETTER NOT! I paid for that!

(Sam)
Better buy some more. 

SAM YOU DICK

(Sam)
:p

       Morty huffed, setting his phone back down. "I'd figured you'd gotten somebody normal," Rick muttered, turning back to his own phone. "Nope. That was just you. I wasn't technically allowed to date, which really made me feel like I was in high school all over again. Not allowed to leave my house unless I was going to church. Lived every day under the watchful eye of Sam, the bastard currently eating all of my peanut butter." Morty grabbed his phone again when it lit up.

(Sam)
Now you don't even get that 4% I usually left you. Are we out of peanut butter? Are you gonna buy more and waste your money? WHO KNOWS?

I'm never telling you where it is again.

(Sam)
But now I know every hiding spot >:D

No you don't :p

       Morty glanced over again and found Rick still on his phone. Of course, the man wouldn't be complete without a mark somewhere on his neck. Or several, as Morty saw. The brunet shrugged to himself, checking the time. It was nearing ten at night.
       "I gotta get goin'. It's laundry night and I have the dentist tomorrow morning." Morty stood from the couch and grabbed his bag. "When exactly am I supposed to start working again? You said soon last time, but I never got an exact answer."
       Morty watched Rick set his phone screen down once again. "I think next Thursday would probably be best. But I'm not gonna let you just show up," Rick laughed to himself it seemed. "In two days, could you come back here around four in the evening?"
       Morty nodded, ensuring he had nothing going on. "Yea, that works. Why?"
       "Just know it's something fun."