A Genius Morty

Chapter 2: Stepping Into the Light

The clatter of dishes and low murmur of conversation greeted Morty as he stepped into the kitchen. It was a typical scene—the Smith family gathered around the table, each lost in their morning routine. Beth was sipping her coffee, eyes scanning the news on her tablet, while Jerry was fiddling with the toaster, looking as though even that was a bit too much for him. Summer scrolled through her phone, barely acknowledging anyone's existence.

Morty paused at the doorway, his senses sharper than ever. The way his mom absentmindedly tapped her foot under the table, the twitch in Jerry's eye as the toaster refused to cooperate, the faint hum of Summer's music leaking from her earbuds—every detail felt magnified, like he could see through the thin veneer of normalcy that coated their interactions. He could anticipate their reactions before they even happened. His new, heightened awareness almost made this moment surreal.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, mentally preparing himself to play the part of the "old Morty"—the anxious, awkward kid everyone expected him to be. But something inside him resisted that. How could he slip back into that skin when it didn't fit him anymore?

Jerry glanced up, his face lighting up with his usual awkward enthusiasm. "Hey, Morty! Morning! Uh… you want some toast? I mean, if I can get this stupid thing to—"

With a flick of his wrist, Morty grabbed the handle of the toaster and gave it a subtle adjustment, instantly fixing whatever issue had been bothering Jerry. The toast popped up almost immediately. Jerry blinked in confusion, then looked at Morty, wide-eyed.

"Wow, uh, thanks, sport. How did you—"

Morty waved it off casually, sitting down at the table. "It's nothing, Dad. Just needed to reset the spring tension. Simple physics."

Jerry's brow furrowed as he processed that sentence. Morty could see the gears in his dad's head struggling to connect the dots. He hadn't expected such a precise, confident answer from his son. Usually, Morty would have shrugged awkwardly, mumbled something, or simply stayed out of the way. But today was different.

Beth lowered her tablet, casting a glance at Morty. "Since when do you know how to fix things like that, Morty?"

Morty's mind buzzed with a hundred possible responses, each one calculated to maintain a semblance of normalcy without drawing too much attention. The new Morty didn't need to lie outright—he just had to carefully manage the truth. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno, Mom. I guess I've been picking up a few things here and there. Being around Rick… you learn stuff."

Beth's expression softened slightly. "Yeah, I suppose you do. You should be careful though, Morty. Rick's not exactly the best role model for safe decision-making."

Morty forced a small smile, biting back the urge to correct her. His mom had always been skeptical of Rick's influence, and she had a point. But now, with his mind working faster than he ever thought possible, Morty could see nuances that his family couldn't. He didn't need to rely on Rick anymore. In fact, part of him wondered if he was already surpassing his grandfather in ways that Rick couldn't even detect.

Summer looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow as she noticed Morty. She scanned him up and down, her expression unreadable. "Uh, Morty? What happened to you?"

Morty felt his heart skip a beat. He had been bracing for this moment—this scrutiny. He knew Summer, with her sharp observational skills and biting sarcasm, would notice the physical changes first. He glanced down at himself, at his taller, more muscular frame. The t-shirt that had fit him perfectly just yesterday now clung a little tighter to his body, accentuating the broad shoulders and defined arms that had seemingly appeared overnight.

He could feel her gaze linger, her eyes narrowing. There was no way to avoid this. He had to confront it head-on.

"Uh… growth spurt, I guess," he said with a shrug, trying to keep his tone casual. "I've been, you know, working out. Kinda wanted to bulk up a bit."

Summer scoffed, her skepticism evident. "Yeah, okay. You just happened to grow, like, a foot overnight? And what, you're suddenly into weightlifting now? Since when?"

Morty held her gaze, but instead of the old Morty's usual anxiety rising to the surface, he felt calm. He was in control. He didn't need to explain himself, but he could choose how much to reveal.

"I don't know what to tell you, Summer," he said, letting a hint of confidence seep into his voice. "I've been trying to make some changes. You know, focus on myself more. Maybe you should try it."

Summer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his response. The Morty she knew would never suggest something like that—would never call her out, however subtly. She glanced at their mom, then back at him, clearly unsure of what to make of this new version of her brother. After a second, she rolled her eyes and went back to her phone, muttering under her breath. "Whatever."

Beth gave Morty a small smile, the kind that mothers give when they're proud of their kids but don't want to make a big deal out of it. "Well, it's good to see you taking initiative, Morty. Just… don't go overboard, okay? You don't need to prove anything to anyone."

Morty's chest tightened at her words. She didn't know, couldn't know, that proving himself was the least of his concerns now. But he appreciated the sentiment. "Thanks, Mom," he said, reaching for a piece of toast.

As he took a bite, Morty's mind drifted to what his next steps should be. This transformation—his newfound intelligence, strength, and confidence—wasn't something he could just hide forever. The changes were too visible, too profound. Eventually, Rick would notice, and that was a confrontation Morty wasn't looking forward to.

He needed to prepare.

His mind buzzed with ideas—plans, strategies, contingencies. There was a part of him that wanted to test the limits of his new abilities, to see just how far he could push himself. But that would have to come later. First, he needed to get back into Rick's lab. Quietly. If Rick even suspected that something was different, he would tear the universe apart to find out what.

The problem was, Morty didn't know how much Rick already knew. His grandfather had a way of keeping tabs on everything, whether directly or through some roundabout, convoluted method involving alternate dimensions or advanced surveillance systems. Morty couldn't afford to underestimate Rick. He needed to be careful, methodical.

The sound of a portal opening in the living room snapped Morty out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil.

Rick Sanchez stumbled through the glowing green tear in space, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "Morty! Let's go! Got a whole bunch of interdimensional crap we gotta—uh…" Rick stopped mid-sentence, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as they landed on Morty. "What the hell, Morty?"

Morty's heart thudded in his chest. This was it. The moment he had been anticipating, and dreading. But instead of panic, he felt an eerie calm settle over him. He wasn't the old Morty anymore. He could handle this.

Rick walked up to him, squinting at Morty's new physique. "When did you get all… beefy? And why do you look like you're about to bench press a spaceship?"

Morty held Rick's gaze, feeling the weight of his grandfather's scrutiny. "I don't know, Rick. Just been hitting the gym, I guess."

Rick snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. "Yeah, sure. Because Morty—the Morty I know—would totally start pumping iron and magically turn into Mr. Universe overnight."

Morty clenched his fists under the table, keeping his expression neutral. "Maybe I'm changing, Rick. Maybe I'm not the same Morty you think I am."

Rick's eyes flicked over him, searching for something, anything, out of the ordinary. Morty could almost see the calculations running through his grandfather's head, the suspicions forming. Rick was too smart to let this go unnoticed. And Morty knew that. He just had to play his cards right.

Rick finally grunted, shrugging. "Whatever. Just don't get all… weird on me. We're going on a quick run, grab some Plutonian crystals, maybe shoot some alien scum. You know, the usual. Let's go."

Morty stood up, the muscles in his legs flexing with a strength he hadn't quite gotten used to yet. "Yeah, sure, Rick. Whatever you say."

As he followed Rick through the portal, Morty felt a thrill of anticipation. He wasn't sure what was waiting for him on the other side, but one thing was clear: the Morty that Rick thought he knew was gone.

And Morty was ready for whatever came next.