The sound of clattering tools echoed through Rick's garage as he hunched over his workbench, muttering to himself. The place was as chaotic as ever—half-finished gadgets scattered across the floor, strange alien devices buzzing with low-frequency hums, and the unmistakable scent of burning wires filling the air. But there was a tension in the garage that hadn't been there before. A weight that hung over everything.
Rick knew what it was, even if he didn't want to admit it.
Morty was gone.
And this time, it wasn't just another misadventure or one of those teenage tantrums Morty would have every now and then. No, this was different. Morty had made a choice—a deliberate, calculated decision to abandon Rick, the family, everything they had been through together. And Rick? Well, Rick wasn't taking it well, even if he wouldn't show it.
He stared down at the device he'd been tinkering with for the past few hours, a useless piece of junk now that his mind was elsewhere. He gritted his teeth, letting out a sharp belch before slamming the screwdriver onto the table.
"Goddamn Morty," Rick muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Thinks he's—urp—too good for the family now, huh?"
The truth was, Rick had seen the signs for a while. Morty had been pulling away, getting smarter, more independent. He'd been working on things behind Rick's back, sneaking around the lab when Rick wasn't paying attention. And then there were the questions—about the multiverse, about control, about power. Morty had started to see the bigger picture, and that terrified Rick more than he wanted to admit.
For most of their time together, Rick had always been the one in control. Morty had been the naïve, scared kid tagging along, barely keeping up with the chaos. But somewhere along the way, that dynamic had shifted. Morty had grown. He wasn't the same kid who relied on Rick to survive anymore. And now, he was gone.
Rick reached for his flask, taking a long swig before letting out a loud, annoyed grunt. "Stupid kid. Doesn't—urp—get it."
The garage door creaked open, and Summer poked her head in, her face pale and drawn. "Rick? Are you… like, okay?"
Rick didn't even look at her. He continued tinkering with the device in front of him, though his movements were jerky, unfocused. "Oh, yeah, Summer, I'm just peachy. Couldn't be better, you know, just hangin' out, fixin' up some interdimensional crap while your brother's off—urp—playing God-knows-where."
Summer sighed, stepping into the garage fully. She crossed her arms over her chest, her usual air of sarcasm absent for once. "This isn't a joke, Rick. Morty's gone. He just… left."
Rick slammed the tool he was holding down again, the clatter echoing through the garage. "Yeah, I noticed, Summer. Not exactly a subtle exit."
"He didn't even say goodbye," Summer added quietly, the hurt clear in her voice. "I mean, what the hell, Rick? Where did he go? Why did he leave?"
Rick finally turned to face her, his eyes bloodshot from whatever concoction he'd been drinking. He snorted, his lips curling into a sneer. "Where did he go? Who the hell knows. And why? Because Morty—urp—got a taste of power, and now he thinks he's hot shit. Typical."
Summer frowned, her arms tightening around herself. "You're seriously just going to brush this off? Morty's our brother. Your grandson. And he's just… gone."
Rick's face twisted into something darker, angrier. "What do you want me to say, Summer? Huh? That Morty suddenly grew a pair and decided he didn't need any of us? That he's out there in the multiverse—probably screwing around with forces he doesn't understand—because he thinks he can handle it on his own? Because guess what, Summer—he's not the first one to get that brilliant idea."
The bitterness in Rick's voice was palpable, and Summer recoiled slightly, as if his words had physically struck her. She had seen Rick angry before, plenty of times, but this was different. This was raw, vulnerable anger—the kind Rick tried to keep hidden beneath layers of cynicism and alcohol.
"Maybe if you weren't such a—" Summer started to snap back, but she stopped herself, biting her lip. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "Look, Rick, I don't care about whatever power trip Morty's on. I just want to know why he didn't tell us. Why didn't he say anything? Why didn't he—"
"Because he's like me," Rick cut her off, his voice suddenly quieter, more dangerous. "Morty didn't say goodbye because he knew there was nothing to say. Once you realize how small this family shit really is—how insignificant all of it is in the grand scheme of things—you don't need a reason to leave. You just leave."
Summer's face hardened, and she glared at Rick. "So what, you think Morty's just… done with us? Just like that?"
Rick shrugged, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe he is. Maybe he's not. Doesn't matter. He's gone, Summer. He's not some scared little kid anymore, following me around like a puppy. He's out there, making his own decisions. And if I know Morty—urp—he's probably getting himself into a whole mess of trouble."
"Because of you," Summer muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't say it to start a fight, but the accusation was clear.
Rick's eyes flicked toward her, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth to snap back, to say something snide and cutting, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he just stared at her for a long moment, the tension in the air thickening.
Before either of them could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and Beth appeared in the doorway, her face drawn and pale, much like Summer's.
"Is it true?" Beth asked, her voice barely holding itself together. "Did Morty really… leave?"
Rick's eyes softened slightly when he saw her. He sighed, running a hand through his wild hair. "Yeah. He's gone."
Beth swallowed hard, her gaze flicking between Rick and Summer. "Why? What did we do wrong?"
Rick snorted, the sound filled with bitterness. "It's not about what we did wrong, Beth. It's about Morty thinking he can handle things on his own. That he doesn't need us anymore. It's about—" He stopped himself, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's about power."
Beth's brow furrowed, her voice trembling. "What are you talking about?"
Rick let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Morty's not the same kid he used to be. He's gotten smart—too smart for his own good. He's been messing with things, tapping into stuff that even I try to avoid. He's chasing something bigger now. Something that's got nothing to do with family, or home, or any of this crap."
Beth stared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and hurt. "And you just… let him go?"
Rick's hands clenched into fists, his whole body tense. "Let him go? You think I let him go? Morty's a grown kid. He made his choice. And what was I supposed to do, Beth? Drag him back here, kicking and screaming? I've done that before, and it doesn't work. He's not some damn kid anymore who needs me to hold his hand through every adventure."
Beth shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "But he's our son. Your grandson. He doesn't just get to leave like this. He doesn't get to—"
Rick slammed his fist down on the workbench, the tools rattling loudly. "This is what happens when you give someone like Morty a glimpse of the bigger picture, Beth. He saw how insignificant all of this is—how meaningless it is compared to the scope of the multiverse. Once you see that, once you really understand it, you can't go back to pretending any of this matters."
"Then why do you stay?" Beth snapped, her voice filled with hurt and anger. "Why do you bother coming back to us, Rick, if none of this matters?"
Rick froze, his eyes flicking to Beth. His face was a mask of emotions—anger, pain, frustration—but for once, he didn't have a quick answer. He opened his mouth, but the words didn't come. He wanted to say something snarky, something dismissive, but all he could do was stare at her, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and finally, Rick let out a long, shaky breath. "Because… because maybe some part of me still wants it to matter."
Beth's eyes widened, the raw vulnerability in Rick's voice catching her off guard. She took a step closer, her voice softening. "So why didn't you try to stop him?"
Rick closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping. "Because I know what it's like to want more. To want to break free from everything that ties you down." His voice cracked just slightly, but Rick quickly buried it under a rough cough. "I know what it's like to see the multiverse for what it is—urp—and to realize that none of the crap that keeps you tethered to one place, one family, one existence really matters."
Beth stood frozen in place, absorbing her father's words. Her heart ached, but not just for Morty—for Rick, too. He had always been distant, emotionally detached, but this was different. There was a deep sadness behind his words, a sense of resignation that Beth had never fully seen in him before. It was as if Rick had been living this way for so long that he couldn't see any other path.
"You… you're wrong, Dad," Beth said, her voice trembling but firm. "Morty didn't leave because none of this matters. He left because he's confused. He's trying to find his way, to figure out who he is. But that doesn't mean he doesn't need us. It doesn't mean we don't matter."
Rick's expression hardened again, his cynical defenses snapping back into place. "You think Morty's confused? He's smarter than he's ever been. He's not some lost little boy anymore, Beth. He's making choices—choices that you don't get to control, just like I couldn't. You think you know what Morty needs, but the truth is, none of us do."
Beth stepped closer, her voice filled with frustration. "But he's our family. He needs us—just like we need him."
Rick finally turned away from his workbench, facing Beth and Summer with a sharp, tired look. "You think I don't get that? You think I don't know that?" He swallowed hard, letting out another belch that seemed to carry more emotion than usual. "I just—urp—I didn't want it to go this way. Morty was supposed to be my sidekick, you know? My little partner in crime. But he started asking the wrong questions, looking for answers I didn't want him to find."
Summer, who had been standing in the corner quietly for most of the conversation, finally spoke up, her voice soft. "He outgrew you, didn't he?"
Rick's head snapped toward her, and for a second, there was real anger in his eyes. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by a hollow, tired expression. "Yeah. I guess he did."
The words hung in the air, heavy and bitter. Rick had always been the smartest person in the room, always the one with the answers, always the one in control. But Morty had changed. He had grown beyond the scared, naive kid who followed Rick through countless dimensions, blindly trusting him to fix everything. Morty had started questioning things—questioning Rick—and now he was gone, chasing something bigger than any of them could understand.
"I just didn't expect him to leave like this," Rick muttered, almost to himself. "Not without saying something. Not without a fight."
Beth stepped closer, her voice softening. "He didn't leave because of you, Dad. He left because he's trying to find himself. He's trying to figure out how to use this power without becoming… well, without becoming like you."
Rick's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. "And what's wrong with being like me?"
"You know the answer to that," Beth said quietly. "Morty doesn't want to lose himself. He doesn't want to become cold, disconnected from everything. He's scared of what this power will turn him into."
Rick scoffed, but there was a bitter edge to it. "Power's not something you can just walk away from, Beth. Once you have it, it changes you. It changes how you see the world—how you see everyone around you. Morty thinks he can handle it, but… I've seen what happens when you try to go it alone. He's going to find out the hard way."
Summer frowned, her arms crossed over her chest. "So, what? We just let him go? We don't do anything?"
Rick let out a long sigh, slumping back against the workbench. "What do you want me to do, Summer? Hunt him down? Drag him back here? That's not gonna work. Morty's too far gone now. He's in deep with this multiverse crap. If we try to pull him back, we're just gonna make things worse."
Beth shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "So we just give up on him? Is that it?"
Rick looked at her, and for the first time in a long while, there was real sadness in his eyes. "I never said I was giving up on him. But Morty's on his own path now. He's made his choice. And if there's one thing I've learned in all my years of screwing around with the multiverse, it's that you can't force someone to come back if they don't want to."
The garage fell silent, the weight of Rick's words pressing down on all of them. Beth wiped a tear from her cheek, her heart aching for her son. Morty had always been the quiet one, the one who tried to keep the peace in the family, but now he had walked away, leaving them all behind.
After a long pause, Beth spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "So what do we do now?"
Rick stared down at the mess of tools and gadgets on his workbench, his hands trembling slightly. He took another swig from his flask, grimacing as the alcohol burned his throat. "We wait. That's all we can do. Morty's gonna have to figure things out on his own. He's gotta learn what this power really means. And maybe—urp—just maybe, he'll realize that running away isn't the answer."
Beth frowned, her hands shaking as she tried to process everything. The thought of Morty out there, alone in the multiverse, scared her more than she wanted to admit. But she also knew Rick was right. Morty had made his choice, and chasing after him would only push him further away.
Summer's voice cut through the silence, her tone bitter but resigned. "And what about you, Rick? What are you gonna do?"
Rick glanced at her, his face unreadable. "What I always do, Summer. Keep moving forward. Morty's gone for now, but the multiverse doesn't stop spinning just because one kid goes rogue. There's still work to be done, still problems to solve, still… still things I need to figure out."
He turned back to the workbench, picking up the tool he had discarded earlier. "But don't get your hopes up. Morty's on his own now. And if he comes back… well, he won't be the same Morty you remember."
Beth and Summer exchanged a glance, the weight of Rick's words settling in. They knew he was right—Morty had changed. He was no longer the scared, naïve boy who relied on Rick to save him. He was something else now. Something more.
And as much as it hurt, they had to accept that.
Beth took a deep breath, her voice steady but soft. "We'll wait, then. We'll wait for him to find his way back."
Rick didn't respond. He just kept working, the hum of alien machinery filling the silence.
But even as he tinkered with his gadgets, Rick couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted—something big. Morty had gone rogue, and while Rick pretended it didn't bother him, the truth was gnawing at him in a way he couldn't ignore.
He had lost his grandson.
And this time, Rick wasn't sure he'd ever get him back.
End of Arc 1
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