Chapter Text
You don’t think you’d ever get used to the fusion of sweat, vomit and booze that clung to the bar’s atmosphere.
The Lounge was as generic as its name, fitting for a place that covered all bases of human debauchery for maximum profit. From hard liquor to exotic dancers, private rooms to the front-and-center dance floor, even drugs to blood money—nothing was off-limits. With every vice at their fingertips, you’d think the customers would find new forms of degeneracy every two business days at least, but no. Every night you stepped inside this club, you entered a time loop. The same faces, the same songs, the same drinks; a fight might break out between two people, another pair might start going down on each other on the sofas. You didn’t bat an eye at most things anymore.
All that to say if there was an anomaly in your routine, you noticed. You kept a detailed mental record of your patrons as a bottle girl, so when you had no memory of a dull-looking spindly bag of bones, you were curious. Even more so when he holed himself up in the corner of the room and didn’t even look anyone’s way.
Your eyes had followed him across the floor, which his sky blue hair made pretty easy. Since then, he had joined your roster of regulars.
He usually started off with his own flask, downing it within an hour. He’d move on to neighboring customers, schmoozing them for drinks. He had to be very charming, otherwise he wouldn’t have a 100% success rate. After three hours or so of constant drinking, he’d pass out in his booth, snoozing until closing time.
After three weeks of this pattern, you were about to write him off as another unexciting alcoholic. But then he started requesting bottle service. Your bottle service, specifically.
First impressions were everything and if you wanted to secure another old man as a paypig, you had to look the part. The uniforms for the bottle service were basically lingerie and it took a minute for you to get comfortable parading around in something you imagined you’d only ever wear in the comfort of your home. Every employee’s measurements were taken for outfits tailored to their bodies so that everyone looked like they came out of a Playboy magazine. At this club, less clothing meant more money. And to you, that was all that mattered.
You tugged your top a little lower, sweetening your smile into something saccharine as you approached his table. “Hey—”
“You– you do that for all your customers?” He cut you off, barely sparing a glance.
Thrown off by his interruption but nowhere near off-balance, you laughed softly and glanced down at your exposed chest. “Only the good looking ones. What can I get for you?”
His eyes were trained on the jungle of bodies dancing in front of the DJ’s booth. “Vodka. As– as much as you c—uuurp— as much as you can give me.”
“Mhm.” You hummed. “I’ll be right back, ‘kay?”
He didn’t respond so you took your leave, putting in his request at the bar. Your gaze trailed back to him frequently. Now that you’d seen him up close, you felt as if… you felt like you’ve seen him before. Did he have a twin, maybe? Resemble someone you saw on TV?
You weren’t lying either. He was good looking, at least in that old man kinda way. A little rough around the edges, maybe carrying some heavy baggage, looking straight up miserable. He looked like he just came from the end of the world, actively dissociating with an all-too-familiar absent stare boring into the ceiling. His lab coat was especially out of place in this hovel for drunks and druggies, but it was cute that he had a mad scientist thing going on.
The bartender dropped the glass of vodka in front of you, jostling you out of your thought process. You took it back to his table, setting it down with the customary napkin. He took one look and screwed up his face. You didn’t waver under his hard glare and had a good enough idea of what he was about to say—-
“This is all you can get me?” With narrowed eyes, he picked you apart.
We have portions to follow. Can’t just give you the equivalent of a bottle in one go. But that answer never went down well. You put your hands on your hip, hoping to seem like you were sympathizing. “Just looking out for you, that’s all. How about when you finish that glass, wave me down and—”
He snatched the glass from its place on the surface and chugged it. He slammed it down, burping unceremoniously.
“...and I’ll grab you another…” You blinked, impressed at how easily he downed the hard liquor. Your smile grew despite yourself. You quickly reigned in your expression when you noticed the minute confusion lingering in his gaze, clearing your throat and grabbing his glass. “Damn.” You said before leaving to get his refill.
The next few weeks unfolded just like that.
He singled you out for whatever reason just to bitch and groan when you actually tried to serve him. No matter what you did, there was always a problem: the glass wasn’t properly filled, you took too long to get to him, he saw you laughing with your coworkers instead of bringing his drink… He was the epitome of mixed signals because regardless of how many times he said you were bad at your job, he made sure to leave a fat stack of cash behind just for you. You remember counting those bills and doing laps around your dingy apartment because his tips matched three customers’ worth.
There was one shift when the bar was so busy. You were in the process of managing multiple tables when he walked in. Lacking the bandwidth to put up with him, you tried to pass him to another coworker which did not go down well. That stubborn son of a bitch tracked you through the crowd and snatched the drinks off your carry tray.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You hissed. It would take a miracle for him to hear you over the deafening thump of the speakers, and part of you hoped he hadn’t. You didn’t mean to snap, especially not at a high paying customer.
He smiled like he knew something you didn’t. Of course he heard you. “Look at you, haha. Breaking character? Finally. Y– You think you can just pawn me off? Me? Don’t pull that shit again, or I’ll— I’ll let ‘em take you.”
What?
You watched him in horror as he nonchalantly downed all of the drinks, coughing and hacking up a storm after they blended together in the back of his throat, no doubt mixing into something unpleasant. You’ve had your fair share of threats while working here, but something about him was unsettling. That quiet, unnamed recognition you had in the depths of your mind said, believe him...
Let them take me?
Until you made sense of your situation and how to go about it, you refrained from sending others in your place when he called on you. It became easier and somewhere along the line. Call it naivety or obliviousness, if you want—it’s probably both. You even went so far as to hang around when he got blackout drunk because that was the only time he was amenable to your questions.
And one night, it worked a little too well.
As closing time approached, rules relaxed around standard protocol. You took rounds on rounds of shots with your coworkers til you felt a buzz and stumbled your way over to his table with two glasses of … something. You didn’t even know.
He groaned as you dragged a chair up to his booth but happily accepted the tall glass of whatever when you slid it to him.
You hiccuped, gulping down a good bit of your drink. You needed the liquid courage. After a deep breath, you slurred, “How… how many drinks ’re you at now?”
His eyes slowly find yours over the top of his glass, unfocused and glassy. “Don’t count. I don’t ever count.”
Your lips pursed. “Yeah… fair.” You snorted as giggles bubbled out of you unprovoked, earning a glance from him. “S’funny, I just— I dunno, I feel like I’ve seen you before.”
He slurped the last of the glass in another go. “Well, d—uuuurp— duh. I’ve been coming here for weeks. Fuck— are you a fucking lightweight?”
“Nuh-uh,” you insisted. “Before then. Before you first showed up here. I know you, I swear. You got a… you got an evil twin or something?”
“Haha… y– yeah, yeah, somethin’ like that.” He toyed with the glass, sliding it back and forth between his hands.
“Mm.” You rubbed your eyes, feeling the drowsiness kicking in hard and fast. You already clocked out of the conversation—you’d be lucky if you remembered this in the morning. Without another word you rose from your seat, bumping into the table before walking off.
He caught you before you got too far. His calloused palm snagged against the skin of your wrist, holding you in place.
“Hey, hey, wait.” He tugged you back, letting you fall into the booth beside him. He was tall; even seated, your head knocked against his shoulder before drifting to his chest. He propped you up in your drunken stupor, holding you firmly by the shoulders. If you were sober, you would have definitely been freaked out by the crazed look in his eyes. “You– you ever feel like you’re being watched?”
“Huh?” you said dumbly. When your brain realized that he was waiting for an answer, you continued. “Oh, uh… I mean, only ever by you…?”
His grip tightened, the madness in his eyes spreading into his smile. “Exactly. Exactly. Lemme tell you, I kinda have twins— or, uh… I have thousands of versions of me, all patrolling around the multiverse. You following me so– so far?”
“Uh—”
“Yeah, you are.” He dismissed your answer, or lack thereof. “Thousands of versions of me! All watching us because I had to choose the dimension where you exist after the last one went to shit. F– Fuck me, right? It’s too late to move to another reality. I– I– I’d hate to have to do that to Morty again after—”
“Morty?”
“My grandson. It– It doesn’t matter. Just–” He hiccuped, his eyes crossing as he shook off the effects of the alcohol, his weight dropping on you for a moment. “Just trust me, okay? You do know me. Not me, actually, but those other versions of me. They like you, and I mean really like you. The Rick that died here was supposed to watch you until you were gifted to one of the ‘good’ ones. I’m the Rick that took his place, so I’m– I’m here to warn you. Still following?”
Rick. You tucked his name in your memory. “I—”
“Good,” He cooed, his voice drenched with superiority. “Oh, man, maybe watching you isn’t so bad after all. I get a—uuuuurp— I get a you without having to go through all that– all that bureaucratic holier-than-thou bullshit the Citadel’s on.” He laughed, the sound worming its way under your skin and warming your insides despite the bizarre conversation.
You blinked once. Twice.
What was good about anything he just said? He just said that you would be gifted to someone. Delusions or not, did he really consider that situation to be good?
You slowly guided his hands off of you, a sliver of panic-induced clarity breaking through the drunken haze. He was obviously hammered beyond belief and spewing some fucked up fantasy.
“Yeah…” Your lips smacked together before spreading into a polite smile. “How about I get you a glass of water? Sober you up a bit?”
“What? No—”
“I think you’ve met your limit.”
His lips twisted in a deep frown, his glare unmistakable. His eye twitched; you’d obviously hit a nerve. “I don’t have limits.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” You cooed, mimicking his condescending tone from earlier. “Let’s get some water in you and see how you feel then, hm?”
“Fuck water!” He scowled, crossing his arms and slumping into the seat. “H– How d’you think you’d feel, huh? When you’re snatched from that shitty little apartment of yours in the middle of the night by a couple hundred assholes who look exactly like me?”
Now he was implying he knows where you live. That’s so great. You shook your head, standing up with your arms thrown in exasperation. “Oookay, I’m out.” Your eyes scanned the floor for security.
He rolled his eyes, throwing aside the small table blocking his path when he got fed up with his lack of coordination, floundering after you. “Oh– oh, you’re out? I’m telling you your life’s in danger and you’re walking away? You’d be stupid not to trust me, sweetie. Like– like actually the biggest idiot in the whole fucking universe—”
“Can you do something? Please?” You called the nearest bouncer. He gave you a look, eyes ping-ponging between you and the drunk old man on your heels before rolling his eyes and waving you off with the excuse of I’m off the clock or something.
“Bitch,” you muttered, pushing into the back rooms to grab your belongings. All the while, Grandpa was yapping your ear off about some bullshit you didn’t care to acknowledge any longer.
“Your best chance at freedom is me. I can’t believe I’m– that I’m wasting this much effort on an ungrateful little brat, but I’m drunk as fuck. Fuck, I’m so drunk,” he groaned, digging his palms into his eyes.
You hummed non-committedly, taking the opportunity to pass him. You almost made it to the exit before you heard him again—
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he emerged from the back and limped his way back to you. “These few weeks, I always leave this cheap joint before you. You– you think there’s a reason for that?”
“You’re so crazy,” you whispered before pushing through the doors and hopefully, away from him. “Seriously, drink some fucking water—”
You stepped out of the club’s darkness into the soft light of the breaking dawn, the soft sunrise doing little to soothe you. This was just another aggressive weird customer, you told yourself. You glanced back to see him stuck at the doors, drool leaking from his open mouth and coating the glass.
You rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone to see when the next bus would arrive. The screen flared to life, too bright after being inside for so long, disorienting you to the point of bumping into someone.
“Sorry…” you mumbled, your eyes lifting as your vision recalibrated. You blinked rapidly as you looked up.
You paused, eyes squinting. You swore you were seeing double… triple… what was the word for five?
You peered confusedly at the group in front of you. Crazy enough, it was the guy from the club—at least, the versions of him he was talking about. These ones were dressed in some sort of military uniforms, but they shared the exact same face.
The one in a captain hat smiled, approaching you as if you were a wild animal. “Heeey, how’s it going?”
You stumbled backwards, tripping over your heels to the ground. Your ass hit the unforgiving gravel with an oof, your stuff spilling out of your purse. You didn’t even get the chance to breathe before the captain grabbed your arm and yanked you to a seated position.
“Hey—!” you yelped, kicking against the pavement, against the hands gripping you.
The club doors flew open and Rick’s silhouette leaned lazily into the light. You stared at him incredulously, your chest heaving in panic; was this another Tuesday to him? Can’t he pick up the pace?
“C-137,” the captain snapped distastefully, yanking you closer. “Of course it’s you.” You winced as his gloved fingers dug into your skin.
“Now we’ve got more work to er– erase her fucking memories. It’s not that hard to get these ones to like us, that’s– that’s the whole fucking point of this program! And somehow you managed to spook one, you big dumb piece of shit. Fucking asshole,” he muttered, pulling out a device from his pocket.
“What the fuck is happening?!” You tried to pull yourself from your captor’s grip, to no avail.
“Shh shh shh, baby, it’ll be over soon. Pr– Promise.” The captain hushed you, shooting the gun and tugging you towards the swirling green portal.
“No, let me go!” You kicked and screamed until your throat burned, but all your protests fell upon deaf ears. You put up enough of a resistance to annoy them, though, because they paused their argument to glare down at you. The captain cursed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed you up from the ground and threw you over his shoulder. You grunted as his bony shoulder stabbed your stomach, your nose smushing against the small of his back. “Stop—!”
“Shhh…”
“Is that your only line?” You grumbled before propping yourself up on the captain’s back, desperately trying to get your Rick’s attention. “Okay, I’m sorry for calling you crazy, please—can you help me!?”
Rick whipped out a flask and gulped away. “I can.”
You stared at him expectantly, glaring when he didn’t move. A slow smile spread on his lips and you realized he was probably still drunk out of his mind. You deflated, heart sinking along with your hopes. You got the message loud and clear: I can… but I won’t.
“...you’re fucking kidding.”
The last thing you saw was him shrugging.
[ ]
Your chest seized as the portal closed around you, transporting you to who-knows-where. You couldn’t even take in your surroundings from your vantage point—for a slim guy, he had strength on him. You couldn’t even wriggle with his firm grip around your legs and hips.
Passing through another portal, you were thrown into an examination chair. Your back hit the cold metal, the ache spreading through your body.
The soldier’s hands were on you immediately, pinning you down and cuffing you to the chair. “That’s it, stay niiiice and still for us, yeah? We’re gonna take care of you—”
You shook them off, using your legs to push them away. “You just—where am I?!”
“N—uuuurp—-ot important, princess. You won’t remember a thing.”
“What?” You spluttered breathlessly.
Captain Rick grabbed your chin, forcing you to stay still and face him. He squished your cheeks as he clumsily booted up a two-pronged device, pointing it right between your eyes. The heat from its whirring arms licked against your cheek just enough to make you cry out.
Another Rick entered the room. The soldiers froze, watching the newcomer with doubt. The captain didn’t even turn around, his fingers toying with the trigger as he choked out, “N– not now, busy.”
BANG!
You screamed as the captain crumpled to the floor, scooting up the chair as much as you could from his smoking body. “Shit, shit, shit—”
The new Rick’s gun whirred to life again, pointing it at… you? The chair? You didn’t know or care. You preferred to stay alive but with his shaky aim, you weren’t sure you’d make it.
Two shots rang out, and you curled up with a shriek to avoid them.
“So annoying,” Rick snarled as he stumbled towards you, discarding the destroyed cuffs and yanking you off the chair. Your legs buckled and you fell to his feet, your first instinct being to hide behind his legs, your mind spinning with fear, confusion, and the remnants of alcohol.
“You’re… you’re mine, right?” You whispered, clinging to his lab coat. “The right one?”
“...Yeah.” He answered absently.
Buzzing with adrenaline, you used his clothes as leverage to pull yourself up to your feet. Ignoring his grunts and curses, you peeked out from behind him at the blubbering squadron. He was telling the truth, you realized and began to recall the details of your weird conversation.
He glared at you over his shoulder before addressing the rest of the Ricks. “Look, I got no problem killing you all, but– but obviously that’d mean more work for me. Just don’t follow us or I’ll have to bury you somewhere.” Rick grumbled, aiming his gun at the rest.
The soldiers grimaced but didn’t move to stop him as he opened a portal of his own, grabbing your wrist and pulling you through with him.
You tumbled to the ground, the familiar club pavement scraping your knees. You hissed in pain, feeling the blood bubble out of your wounds. You were back… at least, you thought you were? Even with the familiarity of your surroundings, your breathing refused to calm down. You wobbled to your feet, using the wall for balance.
You couldn’t even sigh in relief before Rick turned, the end of his gun brushing against your forehead.
“Wait, wait, wait—” You pleaded, your body vaulting back into survival mode.
He ignored you and invaded your personal space, forcing you back until you hit the wall of the club, the rough brick exterior scraping your exposed skin.
“Still think m’crazy?” he mumbled lowly, pressing the cool tip of his weapon against your skin. “Huh? You– you believe me now?”
You sucked in a deep breath, your mind racing at a mile a minute. He saved you, didn’t he? What was happening?
The metal pressed harder, making your vision blur. “Y-Yes,” you whispered, breath catching. “Yes, I believe you!”
He hummed, eyes narrowing like that wasn’t a good enough answer. “Those guys’ve been camping out here for the past few weeks. I told you they liked you. B–B– But see how I took care of them?” He chuckled under his breath, mentally patting himself on the back as he stood tall and proud. “Yeah, if– if I didn’t step in, you’d be a glo—uuuuurp—-rified barbie doll for the next Rick that bribed the Council. You need me.”
Barbie doll? “I… I don’t understand….” You admitted softly. At this point, you realized there was weird sci-fi shit going on and Rick, as weird as he was, may be the only one with the answers you needed. Considering he fended off your would-be kidnappers, your fucked-up attachment to him was growing exponentially.
“S’okay. You don’t have to understand, I can do that for you. I’m the– I’m the smartest man in the universe, baby, so… As– as long as you trust me and do as I say, okay? Say it,” He hiccuped, tripping over his feet closer to you. “Say you— fuck,” he cursed, his eyes squeezing shut as the sun rose behind him and overwhelmed his drunken senses, “Say you need me. ‘Cause you do. You– you need my protection. Say it.”
The barrel of his gun dug into your forehead. Your breath quivered as you answered, “Okay, okay, I need you! I need you, I need your protection, just— please.”
“Say you’ll listen to me.”
“I’ll listen! I promise!”
He ignored your pleas and held the gun there, like he was hoping it’d leave some sort of mark. “Ap– apologize for… for being a bitch back there.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your eyes screwing shut.
A moment passed before you felt the pressure lift from your forehead. You exhaled slowly, almost in disbelief. He pocketed his gun, running his hands through his wild hair. His dead eyes found yours once more.
“Let’s see if you’re true to your word. You’re moving in with me. Can– I can watch you better that way.”
You stared at him for a second. A laugh slipped past your defenses before you could stop it, but died off when he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed and unamused. His silence alone was a threat.
“You’re serious.” You frowned.
“You just said you’d listen.” He shot back, his patience growing thin.
“That’s a crazy ask! Move in?” You retorted. “I don’t even– I don’t know you!”
“If I wanted to kill you, you’d have been dead before you even saw me walk inside. But hey, if–if– if you wanna be an easy target for those guys, be my fucking guest. Would definitely m– make my life easier.” He threatened. You 100% believed him. “I’m being good here, for fuck’s sake! You said you don’t understand and you’re acting– and now you’re acting like you know enough to go against my advice?!”
“I…” The words caught in your chest—were you really doing this? The logical part of your brain tried to claw your agreement back into the depths of your throat, but his glare forced it out. “Fuck. Fine. Fine!”
His frustration died down, a smile growing where his scowl used to be. “Good. Was that so hard? Anyways, let’s– let’s go. It’s good you don’t have a lot of things back at your apartment.”
Of course he knew that. You were starting to think he knew everything.