Chapter Text
Everyone called him crazy.
They told him he had seen things that didn't happen, or the shock caused him to imagine the situation differently.
But Rick knew what really happened.
A man, someone who looked and sounded exactly like him, killed his wife, his daughter.
He tried to tell them. He really did. They just wouldn't listen.
They called him crazy, sent him to a mental hospital. But he was the smartest man in the world. He broke out quickly. Rick ended up killing three men who were in his way.
He ran back to his house and tried to finish his portal gun quickly. He swore that he would find that man who killed his family. Who ruined his life.
But the police were surrounding his house. They were banging on the door, but he was so close to finishing the portal gun.
So close...
He just needed a few more secon-
The door was snapped open, and men in blue uniforms rushed in and grabbed him. They hand-cuffed him despite his screaming and protesting. He yelled at them to let him go, that he's going to kill the bastard that killed his family.
The police had shared looks, some of sympathy, some of amusement. They led Rick into the police car, as he screamed and kicked like a five-year-old.
Before Rick knew it, he was sitting behind bars in a filthy, cheap jail cell that looked like shit and smelled even worse.
But of course, he broke out. It was easy, really.
He killed four more cops who got in his way.
He was caught again outside the prison, trying to steal one of the cop cars. The police realized that Rick Sanchez wasn't going to be locked up so easily. They put him in a different cell, one they reserved for the most intelligent criminals.
This is how Rick finds himself behind titanium bars, surrounded by laser fields that only come down when a therapist is brought in. The lasers come down when the cops come over to check on him and to bring him his meals, as well as to take him to shower.
Rick was there so long he lost count of the days. The only thing on his mind was the fuck face who murdered his family. He swore to himself that he would never forget Beth or Diane. He would get his revenge if it was the last thing he did.
-Many years later-
Rick woke up to a harsh knocking on the titanium bars of his cell.
Grumbling, Rick snapped, "Fuck off. I told the last douche I'm not seeing any more goddamn therapists."
"I'm not here therapy, Mr. Sanchez."
Rick perked up at the unfamiliar voice.
A brunette man, who looked about in his early twenties, stood in front of the cell holding a tray of what looked to be off-color oatmeal in a bowl that very clearly wasn't clean. The thought of it alone made Rick scrunch his nose.
Rick looked the man up and down. "Who the fuck are you." It wasn't a question, more of an order for the man to introduce himself.
"Morty Smith. The man who usually brings you food is sick today so I get the honor of delivering your food, Mr. Sanchez."
Rick stared at Morty, then the tray of food, then back at Morty. "Is it edible this time? I told all your cop bitches that I'd slit their throats if they serve me shit in a bowl again."
Morty eyed the food. "I'm going to be honest, Sanchez, this is not edible. And your death threats are the reason you've been cooped up in this hell-hole for all these years. Now you could be free to go if you'd give therapy a chance-"
Morty was cut off by loud laughter. "Holy- holy shit, kid. You- You're fucking hilarious! God damn, I haven't laughed this much in forty years!"
Rolling his eyes, Morty said, "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. You won't be laughing when you're final moments on this earth are sitting behind bars eating probably expired oatmeal."
Rick smirked. "So what? Nothing matters, I'm going to die anyway. At least I can watch from hell as those sluts you call cops drag my corpse out of here."
"The police team here are not sluts, Sanchez," Morty snapped, tapping his foot on the ground. This was supposed to be quick. Just drop off the food and go. So why is he still here?
"Really?" Rick smirked. "Did you know that sometimes I can convince some of them to come in here and let me fuck them?"
Morty's eyes widened. "Ex-fucking-cuse me?
Rick's smirk grew. "Yeah, the whores can't wait to get my biiiig penis inside of them. I can fuck them for hours until they either pass out or their shift for watching me ends. Even then I usually fuck whoever comes next."
Morty's face was heating up. He knew those men who were on guard duty for Rick. He's talked to them, he's friends with them.
"You want some Rick Sanchez too, kid? Is that why you're here?" Rick grinned, getting up from his tiny bed in the corner and standing at his full height. If he were out of the cell he'd be towering over Morty.
Morty sneered. "I'm not some cheap toy like the rest of the fuckheads here. I'm here to give you breakfast and leave."
Rick rose an eyebrow. "Then why are you still here?"
Morty frowned and glanced at the bowl of oatmeal. He threw the tray on the ground and grabbed the bowl, dumping its contents on the floor of Rick's cell. "Fucking starve for all I care," Morty snapped.
Rick just snickered. "Ooh, kinky. You want me to crawl over to you and lick my food off the floor?" Rick noticed Morty's breath hitched, so he kept going. "You know, sometimes they pull down their pants and make me suck them off through the bars," Rick spoke casually as he sauntered over to where Morty was standing on the other side of his cell.
"Is that what you want, Smith? You want to choke me with your dick through these fucking bars?" Rick taunted, leaning his face closer to the titanium.
Morty narrowed his eyes, his face burning from Rick's words. "I'm a lot younger than you, Sanchez. Coming on to me like this can extend your sentence."
Rick smirked. "Hey, we're both legal adults here. Nothing wrong with two adults having sex."
Morty opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. "Fuck you," He finally said, turning his back and walking away.
"Wait!" Rick blurted out. He didn't even know why he wanted Morty to stay. The guy was a bitch and wasn't as easy to convince as the other cops. Maybe that's what Rick was becoming interested in him.
Morty stopped, turning his head back and raising an eyebrow.
Rick hesitated. "Uh- Don't go. It's fucking boring as shit here and you're the only good entertainment."
A brief look of amusement flashed in Morty's eyes. "I thought nothing matters. So why should it matter if you're bored? You're just going to die here anyway."
Rick groaned. "Nice. Real nice, using my own words against me. Whatever. I'm bored, and you're way more fun than the other cops. I'll suck your dick?" Rick offered when Morty didn't look convinced.
Morty glanced down to Rick's crotch, half tempted by the offer. But could he trust him? Rick Sanchez was dangerously smart. This could all be a trap to kill him and get away with his keys. He's already tried escaping before.
"Or you could suck my dick," Rick said, shrugging his shoulders. "You know, just a thought. The assholes here are too scared by it to do anything. I haven't been blown in years."
Morty's pants began to tighten. The implication that Rick's cock was big was making his imagination run wild, thinking about everything he could do to him.
Morty cleared his throat. "How do I know this isn't a trick? How do I know you won't steal my keys and escape?"
Rick gave Morty a sly smile. "You don't know. Hell, I don't even know. Maybe if you're good at blowjobs I'll be tempted to behave."
Morty paused for a minute, weighing the options in his mind. He could leave and forget this whole interaction, but then he'd have to go back and socialize with douche-bags he can't stand. Then he'll have to go him to his parents who are proud of his sister for going to Harvard and graduating from medical school, while he was still here, living in their home, being a police officer.
If he did go in there, he could either have the best sex of his life or die, two things he found himself really wanting.
Morty exhaled, fishing the key for Rick's cell out of his pocket. He cracked the cell door open sightly and rushed in, locking the door behind him. "You better not try anything, Sanchez," Morty warned. Rick simply smirked.
"I told you, it all depends on how well you can suck dick and take it up the ass." Morty cursed in his mind as his face began to heat up like a teenage virgin.
This was either the best decision of his life or the stupidest.