When Rick woke up, he was very aware of the day. It had officially been one year since Morty had.. well, as long as he didn't say the word, he wouldn't break. At least, that's what he had told himself. Instead, however, he'd wound up sitting in bed for two hours, staring at the ceiling before his bladder screamed obscenities and urged him to leave the comfort of his empty bed. 
       It was the strangest thing, growing used to once again living alone, save for the cat. The bed was almost too big. The sheets were always cold whenever Rick crawled beneath the black covers, always taking forever to absorb his body heat. 

       "You're comfy."

       That memory had been so real Rick felt like he could look around and actually be living in that moment again. The brunet's voice haunted him to this day, always showing up at random times. The smallest thing would spark a memory and suddenly Rick would be reaching for a bottle or glass or even his emergency flask. The second the voice was heard, Rick needed to rid himself of it, otherwise he would go insane.
       Today, however... today, the man decided it was enough. It wasn't worth the alcohol forever flooding his system. It wasn't worth the self torment. It wasn't worth shit to continued trying to act out what had been a once-normal life. There was no point, no gain, nothing.
       It wasn't worth it anymore.

*~*~*

       'John' woke shortly after Sam, finding the ginger cleaning up the living room as he did every morning. "Good morning," he called, sounding oddly cheery. 'John' could only assume it was because he didn't want him to remember it had been a full year, the longest 'John' had ever gone after running from Rick. Though this time was less voluntary, and it had taken forever to get over the damn bullet wound in his chest. He still ran his fingers over the scar every chance he got, as though it were the biggest reminder of them all when it came to remembering his old life.
       "Morning, Sam." The brunet wandered through the small house, not in the mood for much. Breakfast seemed like a bad idea, the Wii didn't sound entertaining, and there was nothing on the internet that could distract him for a full day. If he went on YouTube, he'd spend his time listening and crying to songs that reminded him of his life with Rick, or just of the man himself. 
       "I think I'm gonna go on a walk, watch the sun rise over the water on the bridge." 'John' announced. Sam sighed, "Alright." 'John' smiled politely, throwing his shoes on. If he left the house anymore, he had to do it with Sam. He couldn't be out on his own anymore. Not for another year at least, when any mistake in him being seen could be passed off as a trick of the mind, something funny, or a doppelganger. 
       "Okay," Sam announced, sliding a shirt over his head. "Let's go force me to exercise before I go in."
       'John' led the way, enjoying the crisp morning air as the two walked down the street. It was quiet as could be, nobody out yet. Sure, individuals were indoors, some catching up on the morning news as 'John' could see in the windows, but nobody else was out yet. 
       "Oh, wow," Sam breathed, walking up to the bridge now. The small, soft waves glittered with glints of light, different shades of pink and orange dancing in light reflections. There were some white sparkles glinting off, blind-worthy if either looked at them wrong. But it was a miraculous view. The sun was just above halfway risen on the horizon, coming up over the water. There wasn't a cloud in the sky to block the majestic view, 'John's gaze almost forever pinned to the orb in the sky.
       When he looked away, he was dappled. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, finding something the two must have missed on their way up. There was a car haphazardly parked near the edge of the bridge, the engine no longer running. It must have been there for just a short while. 'John' peered curiously, trying to see past the tinted window. 
       There was a figure standing on the opposite side of the guard rail, a cigarette held loosely between their two fingers as they took a slow drag. Their eyes never seemed to leave the sun, though the cigarette left their fingers, flittering down to the water. 
        "Sam," 'John' whispered harshly. The ginger moved down, standing near the brunet now. "Look," he pointed at the figure. The two watched as they wrapped their arms around the rail now, crossing one leg over the other and staring intently at the water. 
       "We have to go," Sam ordered softly, grabbing 'John's arm. "Why?" the brunet pondered curiously. "It's him!" 
        Now, 'John' knew he would have panicked at this point. But he didn't. He was elated to find Rick again, to see him so close, yet still so distanced. It was now that the brunet noticed the insane hair, the slender figure and signature shades. 
       But Rick was different. He was very obviously drunk, mumbling to himself and wobbling on the edge. He was behaving strangely, teetering on the edge.
       "Sam!" 'John' whispered harshly, facing the ginger now. "Go get h-him! Get him do-down from there!" he urged, pointing desperately at the blue-haired man. "What?" Same mumbled. "He looks fine."
       "No! You don't understand! Watch him!" 'John' insisted, forcing Sam to stare with him. The two watched Rick slip a few times, heard him laugh heartily. "H-H-He's gonna jump!" 'John' announced harshly. "Go g-g-get him down, don't b-be an idiot!" 'John' shoved Sam in the man's direction. "He's fine, he'll-"
       "You idiot!" 'John' growled, running towards the man now. "'John'!" Sam cried out now. Both watched Rick jump slightly at the intrusion, 'John' grabbing the man's shirt collar. "Shit!" he heard, pulling Rick back against the guard rail. "You dr-drunk dumbass!" 'John' reprimanded. "S-Sam! Come he-help me!"
       Rick turned now to face 'John', squinting. It was very obvious he couldn't focus in his drunk haze, but a smile cracked on his features. 
       "Morty," he whispered. 'John' paled while Sam hoisted Rick over the edge. "Sam!" he cried like a child, stumbling and falling on his ass. "Thhhhere's an... an angel, Sam," Rick whispered, pointing to 'John' like he was a skittish dove prone to flying away at the slightest movement. Sam nodded, pointing at 'John'. "Yea, well, he's gonna have to go home."
        "My little angel," Rick mumbled, standing and leaning on Sam.