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Morty couldn't remember the last time it had snowed so much. Christmas was fast approaching, and he was sure it would be no different than any other. Rick would give them nice gifts, they would joke around over dinner, Summer would wish him some crap, and then his parents would fight again, and he and Rick would go on some crazy adventure.
Ah, yes, Christmas. Nothing beats a good family holiday.
Morty threw on a thicker jacket and put on earmuffs. Wrapping his scarf around his neck, he headed out the doorway. Unfortunately, the door was barely open because of the thick layer of white fluff blocking it.
The boy cursed quietly under his breath and decided he'd be leaving through Rick's garage. He headed that way and opened the door.
His grandfather stood at the garage entrance, furiously clicking something on the remote. He was so overdressed that Morty had to wonder for a moment if he wasn't some animated snowman.
"Rick? Are you okay?" he asked, slowly approaching the older man and standing beside him.
Only then could he notice how protective the old man had been dressed. A warm brown jacket and a light-colored hood were draped over his head, and a scarf was wrapped tightly around his face so that only his eyes were visible.
For a moment, Morty thought Rick might be getting ready for a snow fight or something.
"Jeez, Rick... you look like a Yeti." He commented.
"Thanks, Morty, that's exactly what I wanted to hear." He muttered nervously, continuing to fumble with the remote.
"What happened?" The boy asked.
"That damn thing happened. The garage door's stuck. Your damn dad was supposed to shovel the driveway, and who knows where he got stuck." He said reproachfully and started punching the remote with his fist.
Morty slowly frowned, not at all surprised by...Rick's aggressive behavior.
"Easy, let me see," he said, reaching out to take the remote.
Rick yanked, pushing the object out of his grandson's reach.
"Leave it, you'll only make it worse."
"Hey! T-that's not true! Give it to me!"
"Morty, I said, leave it!"
"I'm not your stupid dog...!"
They started struggling for the device, and suddenly...the garage door flew open, faster than usual, spraying snow everywhere. Rick got hit in the face and quickly brought his hands to his front, dropping the remote.
Morty wanted to check if his grandfather was fine, but he slipped on the device and fell backward, grabbing Rick by the scarf and dragging him along.
"Morty!" Rick shouted, feeling himself falling into the snow. "Are you trying to strangle me?!"
They both slid to the bottom of the driveway. The pilot followed them until they finally stopped in silence.
Rick stared at the sky, feeling a searing sensation in his spine. A few snowflakes landed on his nose. He gritted his teeth. He hated it so much.
"A-are you alive, Rick?" he heard his grandson's faint voice beside him, but he didn't even look at him.
"Fuck you, Morty."
"But it's dad's fault. He didn't shovel the driveway..."
***
Breakfast, as usual, proceeded in peaceful silence. Jerry was discussing something that Rick didn't even listen to or comment on. He was playing with his pancakes on his plate, wondering how to rid the world of snow forever. Oddly enough, he was still wearing his jacket.
Morty gave him a strange look but said nothing, keeping his attention on the food. Beth, on the other hand, leaned over the table and let out a quiet sigh.
"Dad, at least you could take off that jacket at breakfast. It's covered in snow," she said.
"It wouldn't be if someone had shoveled the driveway this morning." Rick shot a sarcastic glance at Jerry, but before they could start arguing, Summer spoke first:
"Come on, I don't blame Grandpa Rick. It's kind of cold in this house." She rubbed her arms, which were adorned with a thick pink
sweater.
"It sure snowed more than usual this year," Beth said, reaching for a cup of tea.
"Let's hope it's a normal weather phenomenon and not someone's plot." Jerry glanced at Rick.
Morty just sighed quietly, guessing they were about to start arguing. Rick started shouting something about how his back almost gave out when he fell today, and that Morty was an idiot, and Morty just ate, ignoring everyone.
Summer didn't seem to care either. Finally, Beth managed to reach the men shouting at each other.
"Well...dad..." she cleared her throat. "Do you and Morty have any adventure plans today?" she asked.
The older man slowly looked at Morty, and Morty looked back. As if on cue, they both shrugged. Rick would usually come up with some crazy, sick idea, but today, seeing this snowstorm... he just didn't feel like it.
"I think I'll pass on it today." He rested his chin on his hand.
"That's something new," Jerry commented, and Rick could have sworn that if he didn't shut up soon, he'd punch him in the face with his own pancake.
"Oh! Maybe you should go to that new ice skating rink they opened recently?" Summer suggested, showing them photos on her phone. "I was there with my friends lately, it's a great place."
Morty's eyes lit up as he glanced at the photo of a large, beautiful ice rink, adorned with lights. Oh, as a child, he loved going ice skating! He often did it with his parents, back when they weren't arguing and wondering so much about the viability of their marriage.
The boy almost knocked over his chair when he stood up abruptly and looked at Rick, placing his hands on the table in delight.
"Oh yes, Rick! The ice rink! Please, s-shall we go?!" He looked at him like a puppy, and his grandfather just snorted softly at his reaction.
"Y-you act as if you've never seen an ice rink before." He grunted, and Morty felt an immediate pang of anger. Does everything always have to be so indifferent to him? "But..." Rick continued, leaning back in his chair, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face. "Grandpa can make y-you your OWN ice rink."
"H-huh...?"
And Rick wasn't kidding. A moment later, they were dressed, boarded their spaceship, and stood before a huge, truly huge, lake covered in thick ice. Trees surrounded it, and Morty glanced around, unsure of what was happening.
Rick stood by the ship, searching for something in the trunk, shivering every few seconds.
"W-wait... you said you'd make me an ice rink..." Morty began.
"But I don't have to!" He pulled two pairs of ice skates from the trunk, both the same color, and approached his grandson. "The ice is thick enough not to break, so we can skate on the lake."
"A-are you crazy!?" Morty backed away. "W-what if the ice breaks beneath us?!"
Rick looked at him hard and slowly repeated:
"The ice is thick enough that it won't break. Why pay for an ice rink, Morty?"
"Ah! I-I am done! You always do this! You're always like this! Why can't things ever be normal, or simple?!" He clenched his fists around his hat.
But Rick wasn't listening anymore. Wearily, his eyebrows raised, he was already putting on his skates.
"I-It's simple, you're the one who's causing problems," his grandfather said. "I can take you home right now if you want, but I'm going to have a great time."
Morty gritted his teeth and fists, watching Rick slide smoothly onto the ice. Surprisingly, he was quite good at ice-skating.
He did a little twirl and gave him the middle finger, skating a little further away.
Morty, still furious, crossed his arms and leaned against the spaceship, offended. He wasn't going to have any fun. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction! He was just going to stand there and wait for Rick to drown his stupid face.
But seeing Rick having such a wonderful time, his anger slowly began to subside. He approached the shore and watched his grandfather skate at lightning speed. This was starting to look...nice.
"I'm telling you, M-Morty, this is great! Stop being a whiner and get in!" Rick called from afar, waving his hand. "You don't know what you're missing!"
Morty sighed quietly and rested his hands at his sides. Actually...it really looks cool and...not dangerous.
The boy awkwardly strapped on his smaller skates and stepped carefully onto the lake. He was a bit wobbly and fell on his butt twice, but he was finally getting the hang of it. It had been so long since he'd ice-skated that he'd forgotten how to do it.
A childish smile finally appeared on his face as he began skating forward, swinging his arms awkwardly as if he were doing circles.
"G-geez that's...that's..."
"Cool?" Rick skated around him, his hands behind his back. "Didn't I tell you?"
"I-I remember going ice-skating with Mom and Dad..." He started, almost falling forward, but Rick caught him and straightened him up.
"Yeah! But probably not on a rink this big, huh?"
"It's a frozen lake, Rick..."
"It's the same thing." He rolled his eyes. "Wanna race?" He grinned. "Whoever gets to the other end first drives the spaceship in the way back."
Morty's mouth dropped open in surprise. Rick rarely let him drive. The older man was always afraid that Morty would kill someone, them, or destroy his ship and have to be repaired. At first, Morty been terrible at driving, but lately he'd gained confidence and was doing quite well, and he intended to show Rick that he still was.
The boy adjusted his hat, confidence in his eyes.
"Challenge accepted!"
Rick grinned.
"Oh, look at him, okay," he muttered, standing next to his grandson.
Rick scratched the ice with the tip of his skate, creating a makeshift starting line for them both.
Morty adjusted his skates, staring intently at the end of the lake. It was a long way to go. It really was...a long way. For a moment, he worried he might fail, but Rick suddenly started, shouting:
"Go!"
Morty almost tripped over his own feet as his grandfather lurched forward.
"H-hey! That's not fair! You're cheating!" Morty squealed and clumsily followed him.
Rick's laughter echoed through the rink.
He glided forward across the ice like a king. Morty, who was a few meters behind him and watching his movements closely, began to wonder how his grandfather could skate like that.
Maybe he was some secret Olympic fan? Or took Beth to the rink when she was little? Although his mother never mentioned it to him.
Either way, all he dreamed of now was catching the old man and winning the race. He wanted to show him he was capable of...anything. Even if it meant racing on a frozen lake.
And he succeeded. He started to...overtake him.
Rick raised his eyebrows in surprise as Morty passed him.
"H-hey!" he called, skating even faster.
"What do you think now, old hag!?" Morty called, looking over his shoulder, amusement in his eyes.
Rick glared at him and wanted to say something, but his eyes suddenly widened. He sped up.
"Morty, watch out!"
The boy looked ahead, seeing a cove in the middle of the lake. A delicate crack through which icy, crystalline water flowed.
He braced himself for the worst. That he would trip, fall, everything would crumble, and he would fall through the ice, bathing in the frigid water. And that's what happened. But not to him.
At the last second, Rick pushed him away so hard that the boy fell to the other side, his temple hitting the hard surface lightly, and his legs were thrown into the air.
A moment passed before he recovered, and then the realization of what had just happened hit him.
He rose abruptly to his knees and, a look of horror etched on his face, looked down at the center of the lake, where the ice broke.
Rick clutched at his elbows, trying to pull himself up. He took sharp, ragged breaths. Steam billowed from his mouth as he literally lost all feeling from the waist down.
The water was cold. Cold enough that it felt like it was scalding his skin. Like someone had poured boiling water, piercing his flesh. It was awful. And Rick, how indestructible he usually seemed... now he couldn't pull himself up. He couldn't get out. He couldn't breathe. He had nothing on him that would save him now.
His hands were shaking as he tried with all his might to cling to the ice.
"F-fuck, Morty...help me. I'm freezing..." He gasped weakly, though he could barely speak.
The younger boy's hands were shaking as he stared at his grandfather in terror. Tears welled in his eyes, and his throat tightened. He remained motionless on the ice, utterly shocked.
"M-Morty, move..." Rick hissed through gritted teeth.
"I-I don't know what to do!" The boy squealed, trembling.
"C-calm down, M-Morty. Grandpa will tell you what to do, o-okay? Just...just stay calm and hurry up, okay?" He looked him in the eyes.
Morty nodded quickly, fast wiping away his tears and fearing that his grandfather would soon disappear completely beneath the ice. Morty had never been in a situation like this.
"W-what should I do, Rick?"
"O-okay...take off your scarf, b-but don't get up," the older man choked out quietly. "And come closer to me, but crawl. T-try..." Rick hissed, feeling his bones freeze. "D-distribute your weight evenly. N-no sudden movements, so you don't fall in too."
Morty gritted his teeth in mess and nodded quickly. He quickly removed his scarf and lay flat on the ice. Rick weakly rested his chin on one hand, feeling the tiredness in his eyes.
"Great, buddy, that's it. C-crawl to me..."
"Rick! Don't fall asleep!" Morty shouted, trying to carefully, but just as quickly, crawl toward him.
He had to keep his cool. He had to do this. He had to save him. Rick had saved him so many times! Now he had to do the same.
He slowly approached, and when he was finally at the right distance, his breathing began to quicken.
The ice was cold, and he felt panic rising in his chest.
"Rick! What now?!" he called, but his grandfather was barely making contact.
"T-throw it...to me..." he muttered weakly, feeling his eyes close and his body slowly slipping away.
"Rick, no! No! Grab this, c-can you hear me?!" Morty's screams were loud as he threw the end of the cloth. "Pull yourself up!"
The red scarf hit Rick in the hands, and with the last of his strength, he caught it.
Morty didn't remember much after that. He felt like his thoughts were racing too fast to focus on anything.
He pulled Rick out of the water and carried his frail body to the ship. His hands were shaking so much he couldn't even start it, and then he took off to the sky, clipping several trees on the way home.
Now the spaceship would definitely need repairs.
He parked in front of the garage, aware of the constant tears streaming down his face. Summer was the first to leave the house and helped Morty carry his grandfather to the couch, holding him from the other side.
The boy kept pouring out a torrent of words, trying to explain exactly what had happened. Jerry was furious, Beth was talking about responsibility, but Morty wasn't listening. All he wanted was for Rick to wake up.
He wasn't always a good grandfather, and it was even difficult to understand him. He could humiliate and insult Morty mercilessly, questioning everything he did and thought. And sometimes he'd drink himself into oblivion and become the best man on this fragile planet.
Only in his grandfather's company did Morty find some solace and a sense of purpose. A sense of accomplishment and being needed. The rest of his troubled family couldn't offer him that.
***
The stars began to appear in the sky, and Friday evening faded in the Smith household. Everyone went to bed early today. Except for Morty.
The boy descended the stairs, dressed in warm pajamas, consumed by worry and sadness. He headed to the kitchen, where he put water in the kettle and waited for it to heat.
He began making lemon tea.
His footsteps echoed through the living room as Rick slowly began to open his eyes.
For a moment, the elder didn't know where he was. He thought he and Morty might have crashed again in some alien reality, but thankfully, it turned out to be their living room.
The moon poured pale light inside, and Rick stirred weakly and hissed. He tried to turn his head to the side. There was still steaming tea on the table next to him.
He felt a strange weight. He thought it was the sheer number of blankets covering him, so he looked down. His legs, thickly wrapped in fabric, and a hot water bottle were wedged between the back of the couch and his hip.
His tired gaze drifted to Morty, who was asleep, his cheek resting on his crossed arms on the couch, the rest of his body on the floor. Rick quickly noticed that the boy's eyes were puffy from crying.
He let out a shaky sigh and looked up at the ceiling. He felt himself growing cold again. He lifted a trembling hand and threaded his fingers through the boy's brown curls.
The gesture was enough to wake him.
Morty opened his eyes, blinking weakly, but immediately awoke when he met his grandfather's gaze.
"R-Rick! You're alive...!"
"W-what? Did you think you'd get rid of m-me so quickly?" He muttered, trying to sound joking, but his voice was hoarse.
Morty jumped up and immediately fell onto the couch, hugging him. Rick felt a twinge of relief for a moment as he immediately remembered what the kid must have gone through, worrying about him and having to save him.
But the most important thing to him was that it wasn't Morty who found himself in the hole of icy water.
Choosing a frozen lake as an ice rink, however, seemed like a fool's errand.
The elder carefully wrapped his arm around his grandson, as much as his body could support.
"I-I thought you'd drown, that I c-couldn't save you, and...and..." Morty started crying again.
"Shhh, quiet, quiet..." Rick closed his eyes exhaustedly, gently rubbing his hand across his back.
Silence fell, broken only by soft sobs and gasps for air. Morty slowly calmed down. Slowly, but calmed down. And Rick, the entire time, stared at the ceiling as his grandson clutched the fabric of his sweater.
He wanted to stay like that for a while longer. It felt good to hug someone like that, but a fit of sneezing prevented him from doing so.
Finally, the little brunette pulled away, wiping his eyes with his fists. He looked at Rick sadly, quickly handing him some tissues from the cabinet next to him. Rick took a few, his cheeks still flushed. He wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the heat...and nodded in thanks.
"H-how are you feeling? Do you need anything? I made you some tea..." Morty spoke quietly, watching Rick blow his nose.
Rick gave him a tired smile.
"It's alright. I'll get over this and...thanks, kid. I'd love a drink. It's not alcohol, though..."
Morty immediately wrinkled his eyebrows and nose.
"Stop, you can't drink alcohol right now."
"Okay, Mom." Rick snorted.
"You were so cold...Summer made you three hot water bottles," Morty said, standing up and reaching for the cup on the table with still trembling hands.
"Yeah, I can feel it. And I don't know if I want to ask why there's one right under my ass." He snorted with amusement, but Morty didn't laugh.
He sadly took the mug with tea in his hands and sat on the edge of the couch, carefully helping Rick drink, because the older man's hands were still cold and shaking.
Morty watched him slowly drink and wondered why things could never be normal with him. Rick always came up with some stupid idea, and then...it ended like this. The boy was slowly getting fed up with it. Really fed up. He couldn't hide how exhausted he was of it all anymore.
Rick pushed the cup away from his lips, sighing at the pleasant warmth spreading down his throat. He glanced at his grandson, who was staring at the tea with weary eyes. The man recognized that look immediately and sighed softly, lowering his gaze.
"L-listen, Morty...I'm sorry. You were right. That idea was stupid." He looked him in the eye, and his grandson looked back uncertainly.
"Stupid? You have nothing but stupid ideas. Y-you could have died, and I...I-I don't know what I would have done if..."
The boy gripped the mug so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Rick felt as if the porcelain was about to crack under the pressure. He tried to move, but it was a bad idea. His limbs still felt numb, but he managed to sit up enough to place his hands on Morty's.
"M-Morty...I know I'm overwhelming you with a lot of sick stuff, but you can be sure of one thing." He spoke slowly, looking into his grandson's eyes. "You won't get rid of me that easily."
Morty snorted softly, looking down, and more tears streamed down his cheeks as he sniffed and wiped his wet face.
Rick grimaced and began rubbing his grandson's cheeks with his thumbs. Oh god, was he getting soft in his old age? He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so...gentle with Morty. Was it exhaustion? Yes, he must blame it on exhaustion.
"Next time...," Morty began. "I choose the ice rink, okay?"
"It was a frozen lake," the older man muttered, removing his hands.
"You said it was the same thing!"
They both started laughing quietly, so as not to wake the others. Rick didn't want to listen to Jerry. Not now. Oh, if only Jerry had fallen through the ice!
"O-okay, now get in here with me. At least I'll be warmer." Rick lifted a piece of the blanket, inviting under it.
Morty smiles softly. Thankfully, the day hadn't ended so tragically.
The boy crawled under the blankets next to his grandfather and felt everything warm. He felt like he was about to fry. Rick put his arm around him and pulled him closer, making himself more comfortable, even though the couch was small, and closed his eyes.
"You did a great job saving me," Rick whispered, feeling Morty settle.
The younger one knew perfectly well that if his grandfather hadn't pushed him away, he would have ended up in that lake. He was very grateful, but part of him wished it had been him. Rick certainly wouldn't have panicked like that and would have known what to do. And he would have saved him, and for a moment, Morty was afraid he wouldn't have succeeded.
It was terrifying.
"Mom was furious...we were all very worried," he whispered, pulling one of the blankets off him. "But...if it weren't for that, I would have been in your shoes. Although that doesn't comfort me..."
"Relax, buddy, your grandfather had everything under control. Now go to sleep," he murmured. "Tomorrow's Saturday, maybe we'll watch something nice on TV..."
Morty just smiled, saying nothing more as he watched Rick slowly drift off to sleep.
Ah, yes, sometimes that was just the kind of simplicity and normalcy he needed.
"G-grandpa Rick..." Morty began, resting his head lightly on his shoulder.
Rick frowned, silent for a moment as he adjusted the hot water bottle on his hip with one hand.
"Hmm...?"
"I-I'm glad...um...you're here..."
Rick glanced at him. Morty got up to turn off the lamp next to him and noticed how red the boy's cheeks were. Rick smiled, genuinely and...more affectionately than he should have.
"I'm glad you're here too, now go to sleep."
The light went out. A moment later, murmuring could be heard among the blankets.
"Goodnight, Rick..."
"Goodnight, Morty."
The night began to grow quiet and deep, and when Summer got up in the morning, she simply straightened their blankets and went to get more hot water bottles.