Chapter Text
“Happy Anniversary, Dad!”
Beth cheered, placing a huge plate of pancakes in front of Rick. There had to be at least twenty, all of them doused in syrup and topped with a candle. I knew how much Rick loved his pancakes.
I, on the other hand, felt extremely uncomfortable.
I was a young college student studying science, specifically Astronomy. Nothing interested me more than space, but I was also trying to familiarize myself with many other branches of science. For one of my classes, I was supposed to complete lab hours outside of class - mainly through the means of an internship.
At least, that’s what all my other classmates were supposed to do. But one day, my professor pulled me aside.
“(Y/n) I have a special ‘internship’ for you.”
He actually used air quotes. At that moment, I became somewhat scared of what my professor had in mind. He told me about a man, a genius man whom he had known many years ago. Rick Sanchez. The name rung a bell in the back of my head, but I couldn’t put my finger on it - so I ignored it.
My professor told me to seek out Rick and ask him to tutor me. He did NOT, however, tell me what an asshole Rick was. The first thing the man ever said to me was, “Too tall.”
I mean, he wasn’t wrong. I was tall for a girl, but I wasn’t a giant. Rick, being the lanky bastard that he was, still towered over me.
But Lucifer help me - he triggered my defensive sharp tongue.
“Too drunk.”
I retorted, smelling the liquor the second I stepped into the garage.
He looked me up and down, smirking and raising one side of his unibrow.
“You’ll do nicely.”
And that was it.
Six months later, I had become Rick’s student/right-hand-woman. I could probably fill a textbook, or four, of all the things he had taught me. My internship was only supposed to last ten weeks, but Rick decided to keep me around.
Why? I couldn’t possibly begin to guess.
We had become pretty close - spending hours on end together every day will do that to people. He had basically become my best friend, especially since I didn’t have any others. And I knew he didn’t have any - on Earth anyway. I guess we were both just lonely.
But anyway, long story short, I was currently sitting next to Rick at his family breakfast, celebrating one year of him being back in their lives.
“Oh, I get it. Regular pancakes are already shaped like flying saucers. I-I should be making you breakfast for putting up with me.”
Rick stated, shoving his mouth full of the delicious ‘flying saucers’.
I didn’t know why I was sitting there. Rick and I had been tinkering around in the garage when Beth came out to get her father. And since I was there, she invited me in for breakfast. Because otherwise, it would be rude or something. I don’t know. I would have been fine to just leave, but both Beth and Rick insisted that I stay.
I had said less than two words to Rick’s entire family, excluding Morty since he was always being dragged along by Rick. So sitting in on their family meal was a little more than uncomfortable for me.
“Unclench, (Y/n), you’re fine,” Rick whispered to me.
“Easy for you to say,” I hissed. “This is your family.”
Rick rolled his eyes, taking a big swig from his handy flask.
“It’s breakfast. They’re not making you invest in their business at gunpoint. Just shut up and eat something.”
Looking down at my plate full of sausage, hashbrowns, eggs, and pancakes, my growling stomach made the decision for my brain. As I was about to take my first bite, a flash of green almost made me drop my fork. A portal, very similar looking to Rick’s, opened and three people stepped through.
And not just any three people - three Ricks .
“Rick Sanchez of earth dimension C-137, you are under arrest for crimes against alternate Ricks by the authority of the trans-dimensional council of Ricks.”
The Rick in the middle said.
One neutralized Jerry and several shrieks from the others later, I looked over at Rick. Rick C-137, I guess.
He was completely unfazed.
“Everybody, relax.” Rick stood up, wiping his mouth with the napkin he used as a bib. “If I know these a-holes, and I am these a-holes, they just want to haul me to their stupid clubhouse and waste my time with a bunch of questions. Let's get it over with.”
“Bring his (Y/n)!” The lead Rick ordered.
The two other Ricks stomped over to us, placing us both is cuffs.
“Leave my (Y/n) out of this!” Rick yelled. He genuinely sounded upset.
“You lost the right to have a say in these things when you refused to j-join the council.”
The Ricks started dragging us towards the portal. I was confused, but honestly, shit like this happened almost daily with Rick. I had learned to roll with it until all the information becomes available.
“What about Jerry?!” Beth hollered, looking at the frozen statue of her husband.
“Will you at least unfreeze my daughter’s idiot?” My Rick asked before being shoved into the portal. I followed close behind and wasn’t able to see the fate of the frozen son-in-law. I could only hope the lead Rick returned him to his normal, cowering self.
Exiting the portal on the other side, we were greeted with a very Star Trek looking space station. There were fountains along the golden walkways with hundreds of different versions of Rick and Mortys. Most of them looked exactly alike, but there were a few special ones. And to top the place of, a giant statue of, you guessed it, Rick.
I looked over to my own Rick, who was looking very annoyed and bored.
“Uh, Rick, why does it look like you took over the Starship Enterprise and decided to make it into a shrine for yourself?”
“(Y/n), that movie was in-incredibly inaccurate, and this is the Citadel of Ricks.” Guns poking our backs made us start walking forward.
Rick continued, “It’s the secret headquarters for the Council of Ricks. As you know, I've got a lot of enemies in the universe that consider my genius a threat - galactic terrorists, a few sub-galactic dictators, most of the entire intergalactic government. W-wherever you find people with heads up their asses, someone wants a piece of your boss, and a lot of versions of me on different timelines had the same problem. So a few thousand versions of me had the ingenious idea of banding together, ” he yelled that part sarcastically, “like a herd of cattle or a school of fish or those people who answer questions on Yahoo! Answers.”
Rick didn’t give a shit if anyone heard him, let alone was offended by his words. Was it even possible to offend yourself? I didn’t want to find out - these other Rick’s were pissed at C-137 for some reason and I was prepared to express my Miranda rights.
“Yeah, most timelines have a Rick, and most Ricks have a Morty. This place is a real who's who of who's him and me.”
Hearing that, I began to look around and noticed something very odd. The other Ricks had said ‘Bring his (Y/n)’, which should mean every Rick had one of me. But I didn’t see a single version of me anywhere.
Rick’s voice halted my train of thought.
“Not my cup of tea, this place. I say the point of being a Rick is being a Rick.”
“Save your anti-Rick speech for the council of Ricks, terror-Rick.”
Leading Rick sneered at my Rick.
They then proceeded to curse at each other several times. I could only giggle a little bit at their interaction. How could the same person be so hostile towards one another?
I almost had to slap myself for such a stupid thought.
Well, duh. It’s Rick we are talking about here. That man is a mystery wrapped in an enigma of tragic backstory and countless emotional trama. None of which he has shared with me.
“Hey Rick, how come I’m the only version of me in this place?” I asked, voicing my thoughts from earlier.
Rick’s eyebrow raised, he briefly glanced at me as if he didn’t know what to say. Saved by the Ricks, however, because we had arrived at wherever they were bringing us. Two large, golden doors opened to reveal a throne room of some kind. The room was full of many different Ricks and Mortys (still no version of me) and at the head of the room, on a very tall platform, were six thrones - each one containing a Rick with a crazy hairstyle.
This must be the Council of Ricks.
“Bring up the holograms.”
The Rick on the far right demanded. He had three different spikes of hair on his head, bald spots in between, with a pointy goatee type thing on his chin. Thoughts of wondering what Rick would look like with a beard were quickly answered and regretted.
To our left, pictures of different versions of Ricks laid dead and soaking in their own blood. Except for one which detailed Rick’s head being shoved up his own ass. I KNEW it wasn't supposed to be funny, but I couldn’t help internally giggling at the image.
“Twenty-seven Ricks brutally murdered in their own timelines-- an unprecedented Rick-icidal epidemic. What say you, Earth Rick C-137?”
The same Rick accused with a very high and mighty tone in his voice.
“You think I did this?!” Rick fumed, stepping forward towards the Council.
“Why am I the first Rick you pull in every time a Rick stubs his toe?”
“You have a history of non-cooperation with the council.”
“Yeah, so does the scientist formerly known as Rick. W-w-w-why isn't he here in handcuffs?”
“Because he's dead, too!”
A series of gasps and murmurs broke out amongst the Ricks. My Rick stared up at the pictures with a shocked look on his face.
“Who else would you have us question? You fit the profile. Of all the Ricks in the central finite curve, you're the malcontent, the rogue. Not to mention you’re the only one who can’t be trusted with a (Y/n).”
The Council Rick sneered. With the mention of my name, I looked up into this douchebag’s eyes. He glared at me with an emotion that I couldn’t quite read from so far away. What a dick.
My Rick suddenly became much more annoyed than he was before. As if someone had just insulted his mother then slapped him and called him a racist.
“I'm the Rick, and so were the rest of you before you formed this stupid alliance. You wanted to be safe from the government, so you became a stupid government. That makes every Rick here less Rick than me. And I'm the only one who deserves this (Y/n). The rest of you are just jealous mother-fuckers who wish you could have her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got pancakes back home with syrup on top of them. They're about to hit that critical point of syrup absorption that turns the cakes into a gross paste, and I hate to get all Andy Rooney about it, but I think we all like Fluffy disks of cake with syrup on top, and I think we also like to be accused of crimes when there's evidence! So, as they say in Canada, peace oot!”
Rick turned towards me and began to push me towards the exit with his handcuffed hands. What the hell was that supposed to mean?! He was the only one that deserved me?
Hollier-than-thou Rick stopped us, however. He ordered that they scan Rick’s portal gun history. Upon doing so, they discovered Rick had been to all the dimensions in which the murders occurred.
“What?! That's Rick-diculous! I'm obviously being set up!”
“Earth Rick C-137,” every council member stood. “The council of Ricks sentences you to the machine of unspeakable doom, which swaps your conscious and unconscious minds, rendering your fantasies pointless while everything you've known becomes impossible to grasp. Also, every 10 seconds, it stabs your balls.”
Ouch.
“Okay, I’ve heard enough.”
In one swift move, Rick elbowed the Rick holding him, making him drop his gun. Rick grabbed it, shot through his cuffs then shot the Rick holding me and shot through my own cuffs.
“Run (Y/n)!” Rick shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me into a full sprint.
At least a dozen Ricks and a couple of Mortys started chasing us. Rick opened tons of different portals to try and distract them. We turned a corner to find a dead-end leading to an open balcony. Just as I thought we were going to stop and surrender to the Ricks, Rick let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Hold onto me.”
I did as I was told and, with no hesitation at all, Rick jumped from the balcony. I clung to Rick as if I were a baby Koala on its mother - he opened a portal below us and we fell right through.