A Genius Morty

The days seemed to blur together in the rebellion's base. Between strategizing, scouting missions, and endless battles to stabilize fractured timelines, there were few moments for the team to breathe, let alone reflect on how far they had come or the bonds they had forged along the way. But today was different. Today was one of the rare, almost peaceful days—a lull in the storm.

Morty sat at a makeshift table in the common area, tinkering with a small, damaged multiversal scanner. He wasn't sure if it could be fixed, but the routine of working with his hands, of losing himself in the technical details, was the only thing keeping his mind from spinning out of control. Across from him, Summer was cleaning her rifle, her movements precise and practiced. She didn't need to clean it as often as she did, but Morty knew it was her way of staying grounded, her way of pretending that things were normal.

Rick was off in the corner, hunched over his own workbench. He was surrounded by empty bottles, but he wasn't drinking for once. Instead, he was muttering to himself, eyes narrowed in concentration as he welded some unknown piece of technology together. The three of them were together, but each lost in their own world—a triangle of silent determination and stubborn resilience.

"Hey, Morty," Summer said, breaking the silence, her voice casual but laced with something deeper. "Remember when we used to argue about who got to sit in the front seat during our old road trips?"

Morty looked up from his scanner, surprised by the question. He hadn't thought about those days in a long time. "Yeah," he said with a faint smile. "Seems like a million years ago, doesn't it? Before all… this."

Summer chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Back then, the biggest fight we had was over some dumb mixtape you made. God, we were so different then."

"Yeah," Morty agreed, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice. "Back when everything was simpler. Before we were… this."

Rick snorted, glancing up from his work for the first time in hours. "You two are getting all sappy over family road trips? Please. You were a couple of annoying kids back then, fighting over crap that didn't matter."

Summer rolled her eyes but smiled. "Come on, Rick. Even you have to admit that things were easier back then. You were different too, y'know. You actually seemed like you liked us sometimes."

Rick let out a gruff laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Different? Maybe. But liking you two? Let's not get carried away, Summer. I tolerated you at best." He paused, looking down at the device he was working on, his expression softening just a fraction. "But yeah, things were… less complicated. Doesn't mean they were better, though."

Morty put down his scanner, leaning back in his chair as he studied Rick's face. He had learned to read the small changes in Rick's expressions, the way his eyes flickered when he was actually feeling something. This was one of those rare moments when Rick was letting his guard down—when the layers of sarcasm and cynicism were peeled back just a little.

"You know, Rick," Morty said, his tone softer, more thoughtful, "I used to think you were invincible. Like, no matter how bad things got, you always had some trick up your sleeve, some plan that would save the day."

Rick raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, I'm still pretty damn invincible, Morty. Don't you forget that. But even geniuses like me have their limits. The multiverse has a funny way of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it."

"Yeah, but it's different now," Summer said, her voice more serious. "Back then, you'd pull us out of some interdimensional disaster, and we'd just… move on. Like nothing happened. Now it's like everything sticks with us. Every loss, every screw-up—it's all weighing us down."

Rick nodded slowly, his smirk fading into something more genuine, something closer to regret. "That's because the stakes are higher now. We've seen too much. Lost too much. Back in the old days, I could pretend like none of it mattered. But you two?" He glanced at Morty and Summer, his gaze softening just a bit. "You're the ones who make it matter."

Morty felt a lump in his throat, caught off guard by Rick's words. It wasn't often that Rick acknowledged how much they all meant to each other, how deep their bond had become despite the chaos that surrounded them. Morty had spent so long believing that he was just another tool in Rick's arsenal, another pawn to be used in the game of interdimensional chess.

"Do you even know how much we've changed, Rick?" Morty asked, his voice barely a whisper. "I mean, look at us. Four years ago, I was just some kid following you around, scared out of my mind half the time. And Summer… Summer wasn't this hardened fighter, leading missions and taking down enemies like it's nothing."

Summer gave a small, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, guess we didn't have much of a choice, did we? We had to grow up fast or get left behind."

Rick's eyes softened, and for a moment, Morty thought he saw a flicker of guilt cross his grandfather's face. "You two turned out a hell of a lot stronger than I ever expected. Hell, maybe stronger than I wanted you to. Sometimes I wonder if I pushed you too far, made you both into something you shouldn't have had to be."

Morty felt his chest tighten. He didn't know if it was the exhaustion or the years of bottled-up emotions finally surfacing, but he found himself saying the thing he'd never dared to say before. "Rick, we didn't just grow up because of what we had to face. We grew up because we had you leading us into it. You taught us how to survive, how to fight, how to think like you."

Rick was quiet, his face unreadable as he took in Morty's words. Finally, he let out a slow breath and nodded. "Yeah, I did. And sometimes, I regret that. I thought making you stronger would make you safer, make you able to handle this life. But I never stopped to think about what it would cost you."

Summer looked at Rick, her expression softening in a way Morty hadn't seen in a long time. "Rick, for all the crap we've gone through, for everything we've lost… I'm glad you were there. I'm glad we did it together. I wouldn't have survived this without you and Morty. You're still a pain in the ass most days, but you're our pain in the ass."

Rick's eyes glistened for just a second before he quickly wiped at them, covering the moment with a laugh that sounded rougher than usual. "Well, don't get too sentimental on me, Summer. I'm still the same reckless genius who drags you into danger every chance I get."

Morty couldn't help but smile, the tension in his chest easing a bit. "Yeah, you are. But you know what, Rick? I wouldn't change it. Even after everything, even with all the crap we've gone through… I wouldn't want to do this without you and Summer."

Rick's grin softened into something genuine, and he gave Morty a small nod. "Yeah, Morty. I wouldn't want to do this without you either."

There was a long, comfortable silence then, the kind of silence that only existed between people who had fought side by side through hell and back. Morty looked at Summer, and she gave him a slight, knowing smile—the kind that said they were in this together, no matter how bad things got.

For a brief moment, Morty felt like he was back in those simpler days, when they were just kids fighting over who got to ride shotgun, back when the biggest problems in their lives were nothing compared to the multiversal catastrophes they faced now. And though he knew those days were long gone, replaced by battles and sacrifices he could never have imagined, the bond he had with Rick and Summer was stronger than ever.

They had been broken, reshaped, and tempered by the fires of their trials. They were no longer the family they once were, but they were something else—something forged in the chaos, bound by their shared losses and their relentless fight to save what remained.

And in that moment, Morty knew that no matter how much they had changed, no matter how much they had lost, they still had each other.

And that was enough.

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