Morty was very disheveled when he woke up, wondering where he was. It was very warm, to his knowledge. There was a soft blanket thrown over him, a very comfortable bed supporting him, and a living body-heater beside him. Huh, he thought. The sheets rustled as he moved around, stretching his limbs out. He had clung to something last night and must have fallen asleep in the most awkward of positions. He felt sore, a bit tense, but otherwise fine. 
       Save for the discomfort that was a grainy feel in his boxers, and the fact that he was, ahem, in somebody else's bed in his boxer shorts with absolutely no recollection of the night prior.
       "Ah!" Morty shouted, scrambling upwards on the bed. He watched the figure beside him jolt up and the brunet all but fell from the bed. "What the f-" Rick mumbled, looking around. "What the fuck?!" he shouted, finally seeing Morty and jumping back. 
       "What the hell?!" Morty actually did fall off the bed this time, kicking free of the blanket tied around his legs and sitting up on the ground. His head was throbbing with his heartbeat, the noise like thunder in his ears. "Oww," he groaned, laying on the carpet and putting his hands over his face. His arm was, surprisingly, somewhat fine, with mild discomfort from the bandages, but that seemed to be all. 
       Morty glanced up, finding Rick peering curiously over the edge of the bed, as though Morty wasn't real. As the brunet removed his hands from over his face and laid them over his stomach, Rick's eyes were wide. Morty's own were a moment after, staring at bruises littering Rick's neck and one placed on his chest, over his heart. Son of a-
        "What the fuck?" Rick reiterated. He let his head fall to the mattress, apparently burying his face in the blanket like it would all disappear and he'd be left alone to deal with his fat ass cat while Morty grabbed his kid an- 
       "Holy shit!" Morty jumped up from the floor, leaning precariously against the bed and placing a heavy hand to his forehead. The world was rather under-prepared for Morty as the brunet waited for the ringing and light-headedness to subside. Slowly, he stood on his own. "Where the hell is my kid," he grumbled, looking around for his things. His belongings were haphazardly strewn about, apparently as gone as his inhibitions must have been last night. 
       Morty perked up at the sound of childish crying, glancing around. "I don't think anything happened in here," Morty stated slowly, looking around. "Beach," Rick grumbled, refusing to lift his head now. Morty gave a very upset and frustrated groan, crossing the room and exiting.
       This was bad. It was a mistake, just one really, really big mistake. He should have known better than to get drunk with the man last night, especially when his toddler was still there. God, what happened to being responsible? Morty chastised himself the entire way down the stairs, vowing never to do it again, especially as the stairs twisted and made his stomach churn with nausea and a light-headed sensation. 
       AJ sat up on the couch, wiping at his face and crying while Little Bastard seemed very frustrated with him, glaring at the toddler from the opposite side of the couch. Morty walked over, shaking sand from his hair with a frustrated sigh before he regretfully lifted the child, cradling him in his right arm and rubbing soothing circles into his back with his left, though the limb felt as though on fire. "It's alright," he whispered, wondering who he was reassuring in this moment; the child, or himself. 
       Very slowly, the crying subsided into pathetic sniffles while AJ hugged Morty's neck, refusing to let go. Little Bastard seemed to enjoy the quiet now, however, purring in glorified joy as he shut his eyes and curled his tail around himself. 
        Morty sighed frustratedly, swaying in short half circles while AJ seemed to fall asleep again. It was only roughly six. He and Rick had been drinking around five and must have fallen asleep shortly after.. whatever happened.
       Morty wasn't sure if he should scream, cry, jump for joy, or hide in a hole until the world disappeared. He was a very blank slate right now, very frustrated as he calmed his child. He'd woken in an unknown area, of course he would be upset. Sure, he may have voluntarily fallen asleep in it, but a child's mind can only process and know so much. 
       The older huffed, turning and making his way back upstairs as carefully as he could. He never did understand how Rick had managed to carry him up the damnable stairs all the time. 
       When Morty made it back to Rick's room, he carefully pushed the door open, finding that the man had not moved. He was awake, giving a grunt of recognition towards Morty's presence, but he had yet to move from his spot. "I need my crap," Morty grumbled, setting the sleeping toddler at the foot of the bed and moving around, searching for his things. His shirt was easily spotted, having landed on the television across the room. His pants weren't as easily located, however, and his phone was worse off.
        Eventually, Morty had found his pants, lifting the inside-out material from on top of the box of nightmares. His shoes were near the material, though one was more-so almost under the bed. He was thankful he still had his socks on, though the gritty sand was godawful. 
       The brunet glanced up when he heard very slow movement, finding that Rick was finally pushing himself up. The man carefully lowered himself to sit on his haunches, sighing heavily and running his hands through his hair. He looked almost guilty while Morty worked to right his jeans, the brunet cursing as he searched the pants for his phone. He cursed under his breath, finding it lacking. The brunet wandered over, wondering if he was smart enough to drop his phone in his shoes. He gave another sound of complaint, cut short when he found the device on the floor across the room. He huffed, grabbing his phone and checking the screen. It was fine, not damaged in any way, though he had multiple missed calls from last night and earlier this morning. Apparently Sam was home now.
        Morty looked over once more, hearing Rick stepping from the bed and watching the man awkwardly shuffle to his bathroom. He turned back around when the door shut, glancing down at AJ and finding the toddler looking around and playing with the blanket. Morty tugged his shirt over his head, hating the feel of sand on his scalp as he did so. He put his left arm through carefully before pulling his head and right arm through, trying to avoid hurting himself further.
       The heavy sound of something absolutely shattering terrified Morty as he turned quickly to the bathroom. AJ was very unsure of what to do, glancing desperately at Morty while the older of the two crept towards the bathroom once he heard a shout. He knocked lightly on the door before he checked the knob, finding the door unlocked. 
        Rick was leaning over the bathroom sink, staring at a mirror that was now in pieces. His hands gripped the edge and Morty saw his right knuckles redder than usual, looking at the shards of glass in the sink and dangling precariously from the frame. Rick was breathing harshly and Morty was very worried for his own safety for a moment, shrinking away before Rick turned to face him. He was pissed, and Morty wasn't sure if he was the reason. He never did know. But the man's expression softened to one of regret, of longing and sadness. He glanced between Morty and the mirror, and he looked almost pained now. 
       Morty stood in the doorway now, twisting the hem on his shirt in a manner he hadn't done in a while. He swallowed thickly, unsure of what he was even supposed to say after something like this. He shifted uncomfortably, sighing and walking from the doorway now as Rick stared after him. The brunet wandered towards AJ, grabbing his pants from the edge of the bed and knocking one shoe free from the leg. AJ seemed greatly overwhelmed, his eyes staring around fearfully, and Morty stopped, running his hand through the toddler's curls and smiling as best he could manage. "You're gonna be fine. We'll go home in a minute." At this point, even Morty was aware that he was reassuring both of them at once. The toddler nodded, holding up his toys. Morty nodded, "Go ahead and play for a minute." AJ sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling over the edge, and Morty was very worried. The bed was fairly tall, and AJ could potentially hurt himself. Hating himself for going into 'worried dad' mode, Morty scooted him back further from the edge, placing a reassuring kiss on the toddler's forehead. At this point, Morty needed that more than AJ. 
       He needed reassurance, because he was terrified right now. Rick could potentially do anything. Hell, he'd just shattered his mirror and didn't care. He was pissed, and Morty could only assume it was his fault. He usually did whatever it was to piss him off, always did something that frustrated Rick. The man never was good with anger management, and Morty seeing that again made him all the more terrified. 
        Morty pulled his jeans over his legs, feeling grungy and needing a shower as soon as possible. He glanced over, finding Rick wandering from the bathroom, having pulled his pajama bottoms over his boxers now and standing awkwardly in the doorway. Obviously he wasn't well-equipped to handle this, either. 
       "Sorry," broke the silence after a moment. Morty furrowed his brow, staring at the man now. "What for?" It was almost laughable, really. Why the hell would the man apologize?
       "Screwing things up again." Rick leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms over his middle now. Morty shook his head with a sigh, searching for his wallet. He found it near the box, in the same area his pants had been, and grabbed it without getting too close to the storage unit. The object was shoved into his jeans and Morty adjusted his left sleeve. The material was still rolled after his stitches had been fixed, now draping over the bandages. 
       "I don't think that's necessary," Morty mumbled, stepping into his shoes and tying the laces. "There was no end motive. Just.. two drunk guys on a beach." The brunet gave a short laugh at the end of his statement, urging AJ to stand now. The toddler did, curling up to Morty as the man lifted him with his right arm and lowered him to the floor. AJ stood at his side, making his characters 'fly' now.
       Rick sighed from his spot against the wall and Morty could clearly see his knuckles burning with an almost rouge tint. The man shrugged, pissed again, and Morty knew it. He knew that look, knew the way he would clench his jaw in frustration and glare at something before he'd try to relax. "Why are you mad?" he questioned, keeping AJ next to him. Rick furrowed his brow, staring curiously now. "I'm not," he stated slowly, though Morty knew better. The brunet shook his head, smiling like he couldn't believe it. "But you are. I see it. You're absolutely pissed, and I can't help thinking it's because of me."
       "I'm no-- I just can'-- It's because I can't fix this!" Rick finally stated frustratedly, borderline screaming. Morty shied back, watching when AJ stared at Rick with big eyes. "What are you talking about?" Morty questioned, rubbing AJ's shoulder. Rick shook his head with great incredulity, laughing like Morty was an idiot. "I can't fix any of this! This is the second time I did something so fucking stupid. I heard Shoja, and I got to thinking. 'Gee, maybe if I kicked it, I wouldn't be such a fucking ass.' But I can't fix that, I can't give it up, I can't make you see that I'm so-- I'm fucking sorry I keep screwing up, screwing you over. I can't fix any of this, and it's fucking bullshit! I got you right next to me, dancing right in front of me, saving my ass. I can't fix any of this. I can't just step back and fix it all before this happened. I can't make you forget this shit, and I can't make you stop running away, because I'm the one that keeps fucking fucking it up!" Rick was breathing heavily at the end of his rant and Morty was just staring at him. "I want to fix it, and I can't. You just-- How are you not seeing it? I'm trying and trying. This time, it's been me fixing shit, and I'm not good at that. You see it now. I destroy, I don't fix, I don't mend. I'm always on a warpath. With you, it's shits and giggles. With me, it's all business and running from danger. I've been trying and trying, and it fucking hurt me, too, when you stood in that driveway telling me what I did. I couldn't even fucking look at you for a month after that. All I kept thinking was, 'goddamn you fucked it up bad' the whole time. Then you finally spoke to me, just because you were standing up for Jo and beat that dumbass. You stood up for your best friend, but I saw it. You hated that he was back there. You weren't jealous, you just hated it because you knew what he was gonna get into. Because you have always been the only person to be able to handle that. You are the only one that can put up with my shit, that managed to put up with me."
        Morty watched as Rick ranted, listening intently. But he could see everything he was saying. God, he'd been so stupid. He'd been trying all along, he'd been working for Morty all along. The brunet patted AJ's shoulder, having the child remain where he was.
       "I have tried everything I was told to do. I tried everything I thought might work, and when Al was dead-set on setting you up with me, because he was so damn shocked at everything, he was the one telling me what to fucking do. Do you know how hard that was, to sit there and listen and let him tell me what to do? I swear to God, he's a lucky son of a bitch if ever there was w-" 
       Morty stood in front of the man now, the one that apparently missed the brunet moving towards him, missed the brunet crying in front of him. He had missed it all, but Morty watched the recognition now. He watched it settle into the crystal blue, watched everything wash away. He stared at the bruises that he knew were from him, gazing upon the mark above the man's heart. He hadn't been the only one thinking that what they were doing wasn't enough, wasn't working. This wasn't a one sided battle. It was an unnecessary war, two people fighting for the same thing and unintentionally battling the other away. Each of their advancements had been misread, leading them to retreat with a feeling of failure. But it was all clear now. They met in the middle, waving their white flags. And Morty was going to call an end to it all. He knew what Rick loved. He knew what the man would need now. Even after nearly six years, he knew that all he needed was the knowledge that he didn't scare everybody away, even if he wanted to. Even if he was dead set on having everybody bow to him, on having everybody cower from his touch, there would always be the one that would openly admit that he loved the feel of the man just as much as he loved the feel of the brunet.
       Morty placed his open palms on Rick's chest, pushing them up and over his shoulders. Rick had always loved that. He'd always loved how steady Morty's hands moved, how they were still when he'd been used to hands trembling slightly. He loved the confidence, unwavering even when his hands were behind the man's head, even when they remained chest to chest. The brunet pushed himself up slightly, always being shorter than the man. 
       "C-.. Can I?" he whispered, deftly trailing his lips against those of Rick's. The man seemed at a loss for words, trying to conjure one up in response. "Please," he finally urged. Morty nodded, loving that his lips still slotted perfectly with Rick's, still remembered how to dance with need, how to curl like hot fire. His hands remembered how to run through the absolutely insane blue locks, remembered where to go, even as his brain short circuited and all he could think was 'more'. He remembered how to react when Rick slid his hands up the back of the brunet's shirt, pressing closer to the man and letting him enjoy himself. He would always love 'humanity', always love the warmth that emanated from Morty. It was never frozen and fearful. He was always human, always confident, always adoring. 
       And Morty realized it wasn't just him crying, either. It wasn't just him being pieced back together every time his lips slotted back with Rick's, every time he felt like he couldn't get close enough, couldn't have as much as he wanted. And it wasn't just him feeling like such an idiot, wondering how he had missed something so important. It wasn't just him anymore.
       It wasn't just Morty in the world anymore. It was Rick and Morty, Morty and Rick, forever. Nothing was going to separate them again, no matter how terrifying and brutish the older may be, no matter how frightened the younger may become, because they worked together. They were a team, and they weren't going to break away ever again. The world could try, but it would never happen. What they had together, what they shared, was something the world wasn't prepared for. And it never would be. Their love was god, the only thing that mattered. What they shared was an unstoppable, unwavering power. 
       Rick and Morty, together forever, raising AJ to be a little hellion that would carry on their legacy, even if that was the last thing the two wanted. 

~ End of Book Two ~