“Don’t. Believe me, Merty, plenty more where that came from.” He was Miami Rick, the richest Rick in all of the multiverse.
He furrowed his unibrow. Of course this little shit was going to ask questions. Of course he was going to expect the worst of him. It wasn’t as if they had a stellar history, what with their interactions mainly limited to the shitty ones that happened at Rock and Rick’s wedding. Mortimer probably told more stories to feed the fire. Or maybe he didn’t. Miami Rick would actually bet money that Mortimer considered him nothing, something that infuriated him to no end, but now wasn’t the time to focus on that.
Somewhere deep in his gut, he wanted their stupid family to work. Maybe because he was beginning to get a taste of family again with Moonrock and Mimi, even though both weren’t his original Morty and technically owed him nothing. Not that he’d ever admit it.
Awkwardly, Miami Rick shrugged. “Look, h-h-he’s just lonely and needs someone to take his mind off your other grandpa while he’s away. So take him out. Keep him from being some Joanie of a housewife pining for her husband to return from war.”
i just love the idea of merty trying not to swear as much in the cousins verse, because not only is it really HYPOCRITICAL of him ( you can teach your cousin how to murder people, but you don’t want her to say fuck? seriously, merty?) but he’s also completely TERRIBLE at it.
The lower floors of the Citadel were normally reserved for the TOP PRIORITIES: the guards, the Secret Service, the PRESIDENTS themselves. No one else was allowed and it was a KILL ON SIGHT should someone be caught down here without the proper security. In retrospect, however, there was nothing relatively INTERESTING down there, at least to Mortimer. Just some OLD TECH that the Council of Ricks hoarded. The majority of them were torn to pieces and SCRAPPED.
Others found use.
Rico had recently been telling Mortimer about a certain room down there. Supposedly a CYBORG or a human body with ENHANCEMENTS. Mortimer figured it was something close to what Mortimer and Merty had done to their past Ricks. Not quite but CLOSE. It strung along a few cords within him that made the president take the rest of the day off to check it out. Boyfriend included.
Some date huh?
Rifling through his belongings for the keycard to unlock the door, Mortimer casually BUMPED shoulders with Merty, humming a tune to himself. “I don’t know. Sounds almost like what we were doing yeah? Maybe they were trying to figure out a way to control Ricks in their own way?” Which was a HAUNTING thought.
Every work could describe how impossible it seemed to keep control over three different galaxies under his dictatorship. Since his and Merty’s run of the Citadel, they each had SPLIT OFF to work different things. Something they wanted to do that kept them apart for weeks on end. Merty went off to become a pirate, an almost childish dream if he wasn’t so GOOD at it. He was AMAZING at what he did.
Mortimer was so proud of him.
Himself, on the other hand, went on the take over his first galaxy, an impossible feat some would say. But he made it POSSIBLE. Mortimer CRUSHED their government underneath his heel and established himself as their new ruler. But that had been years ago. Now in his early thirties, Mortimer lay LOUNGED up in one of his chairs, fiddling with some magnets as he WAITED.
But for who?
None other than his favorite pillager he’s come to know.
It was just Mortimer and Rock today. Merty was off spreading his glittery magic all throughout the house while the two were busy at the Citadel today. Building clones and whatnot to get Rick’s soul back from the devil. But they needed the time to go and get Mortimer’s clone up and ready with the right tech. They didn’t want it to be SUB-PAR to the original after all.
His question did grab Rock’s attention EASILY. Mortimer wondered if the bullet wound he’d taken to the shoulder was still hurting. Still ACHING. Out of everyone that had helped Rock out back then, Mortimer was the only one who was left in the DARK. He had no idea who or why Rock had been shot and what TERRIBLE and HORRIBLE soul thought that shooting Rock was a good idea. They probably had nothing to lose and no kindness in their heart whatsoever.
“It was my original dimension’s Jerry.” His reply made Mortimer’s thought process STOP. He nearly drops the little goopy baby in his arms from the shock. “I had gone back home to tell them that my Morty, their son, was dead. Jerry didn’t….they didn’t take it well…” His hand raises to his side, gripping the old wound with a near submissive look. It wasn’t good for Rock. Mortimer didn’t like that LOOK.
Or his Jerry.
Damn he really wished he KNEW Rock’s dimension number.
“Merty!” Oh good! He caught him before he had to chase him all the way down to the Citadel. While Merty’s been a little on-edge lately, Mortimer HIMSELF has been hiding out while he WORKED on a little something for his favorite person in the Multiverse. “Listen! I know you got to get to the Citadel and all….but I made you something.”
Mortimer was the kind of person who MADE all his gifts. A HOLOGRAPHIC nightlight, food, little memory discs….he was just a CREATIVE PERSON when he put his mind to it.
Catching up to him, he grabs Merty by his shirt, dragging him closer while ignoring the small specks of GLITTER decorating his hands. He gives him a little kiss, grabbing the present out of his jacket’s pocket while he does so. It’s HIS birthday that’s tomorrow, but Mortimer still found WAYS to spoil his boyfriend. No day shall end his SPOILING.
“It’s nothing TOO BIG.” Mortimer begins when he draws away, a playful drink decorating his lips as he holds up something….round. A few TIDY wires hung down from the back of it, longer than MOST would see. “Well, that’s a lie.” It’s an eye. A prosthetic eye to be more precise. Based on the blueprints he’d use to UPGRADE his clone, Mortimer had been able to fashion COUNTLESS eyes. He wanted it to be perfect, to be real, and to PERFORM SPECTACULARLY. “I made you an eye….to uh….well, now that I think about it, it sounds really shitty.”
His face remains blank for a little bit, gauging Merty’s reaction. He may have arrived a little too late to help with the numbness, but Mortimer always knew a way to bring him back. Even if the relief came back slowly, Mortimer took pride in how well he could cheer up his boyfriend. And he knew JUST the thing to help him.
Mortimer leans away from him, their noses just an inch apart as he smiles warmly at him. Love, attention….and causing COLLATERAL DAMAGE.
“You know….” Mortimer hums, bumping their noses together gently. “I noticed that Mary Sue got a new mailbox when I went to the grocery store the other day. Real nice one too. Looks like a NICE candidate for a little bit of damage….” His grin turns a little darker as the words leave his lips, borderlining danger, dark DEEDS, and mischievousness.