Days passed, each one a marathon of frustration, exhaustion, and incremental progress. Morty's wound had stabilized thanks to Rick's hastily built temporal stabilizer, but they all knew it was just a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. The stabilizer hummed faintly under Morty's shirt, a constant reminder that he was living on borrowed time. Every time it flickered, even for a split second, a jolt of panic shot through all of them.
Rick had thrown himself into his work, spending almost every waking hour in his lab, his mind obsessively focused on finding a permanent solution. The war against Vaxon and the council had been put on hold, their dimensional maps and battle plans gathering dust in the corner of the war room. For now, there was only one goal: healing Morty.
Morty, for his part, spent most of his time resting, though it was more to conserve his strength than because he wanted to. He was restless, frustrated at being sidelined when he knew that Vaxon and the council were still out there, plotting their next move. But he'd promised Rick and Summer he'd wait, that he wouldn't put himself at risk until they found a solution. And even though it killed him to sit back, he knew he had to trust them.
Summer had taken on the role of keeping things together. She organized their supplies, checked on the rebellion's base, and made sure that everyone was holding up under the pressure. But even she couldn't hide the cracks that were starting to show. Every day that went by without a breakthrough weighed on her, and Morty could see it in the way she clenched her jaw, the way her eyes darted toward him whenever the stabilizer let out its faint hum.
One night, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, Rick called Morty and Summer into the lab. His face was pale, his hair even more disheveled than usual, but his eyes gleamed with something that had been missing for days—hope.
"I think I've got it," Rick said, his voice low and urgent, like he didn't want to jinx it. He gestured to a device on the table, one that looked like a cross between a portal gun and some kind of medical scanner. It was sleek, glowing faintly with an eerie blue light. "This is the best shot we've got. A dimensional energy siphon that can pull the chaotic energy out of your wound and rebind the tear."
Morty's heart skipped a beat as he stared at the device. "Rebind the tear? You mean… heal it?"
Rick nodded, though his expression was far from relaxed. "In theory, yeah. It's not a full fix, but it'll close the rift, seal it so it stops leaking energy into you and tearing you apart. But we're talking dangerous levels of energy, Morty. This thing could backfire if we don't handle it perfectly. And even if it works, there's no guarantee it won't hurt like hell."
Morty glanced at Summer, who was standing next to him, her arms crossed but her face hopeful. He knew she'd been praying for this moment, just as much as he had. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Let's do it. I can't keep living like this, Rick. Even if it's risky, I have to try."
Summer stepped forward, her voice steady but laced with concern. "Are you sure about this, Morty? I mean, we've waited this long. Maybe there's a safer way…"
Rick cut her off, shaking his head. "Summer, there's no safer way. We're dealing with dimensional energy here. You can't just slap a bandage on this kind of wound and hope for the best. This is our shot, and it's now or never."
Morty met Summer's eyes, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure. I trust Rick. And I trust you. Whatever happens, we'll face it together, right?"
Summer hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah. Together."
Rick clapped his hands, breaking the tension. "Alright, enough with the mushy stuff. Let's get you strapped in, Morty, and see if we can't close that goddamn wound for good."
They moved to the center of the lab, where Rick had set up a makeshift operating table. Morty lay down, feeling the cold metal press against his back. The stabilizer hummed steadily under his shirt, its faint glow a reminder of how fragile his situation was.
Rick adjusted the siphon, his hands moving with the precision of a surgeon. "This might sting a little, Morty," Rick said, his voice half-joking but edged with real concern.
Morty managed a weak smile. "What's a little more pain, right?"
Summer stood by his side, holding his hand as Rick activated the siphon. The device whirred to life, its eerie blue light intensifying as it locked onto the dimensional rift in Morty's chest. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the machine, and then—
Pain. White-hot, searing pain ripped through Morty's chest, worse than anything he'd felt before. His body arched off the table, every muscle tensing as the siphon began pulling at the chaotic energy inside him, drawing it out bit by bit.
"Hold on, Morty!" Summer shouted, her grip on his hand tightening. "You can do this!"
Morty clenched his teeth, fighting to stay conscious as the energy tore through him, threatening to overwhelm his senses. The siphon pulsed, its light growing brighter, more erratic, and Morty could feel the rift in his chest shifting, trying to resist the pull of the machine.
Rick's voice was sharp, focused. "It's working! The energy's stabilizing—just a little more!"
Morty squeezed Summer's hand, his vision blurring as the pain reached its peak. It felt like his chest was on fire, like the energy was trying to rip him apart from the inside out. But he held on, his mind focused on one thought: This has to work.
Suddenly, the pain lessened, the sharp edges of it fading as the siphon finished its job. Morty felt the energy inside him settle, the chaotic pulses growing fainter, more controlled. The device beeped softly, and then Rick powered it down.
"Morty?" Rick's voice cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion. "Morty, can you hear me?"
Morty blinked, his vision slowly coming back into focus. He was lying on the table, drenched in sweat, his body trembling from the strain. But the pain—the unbearable, gnawing pain that had been his constant companion—was gone. He looked down at his chest, where the rift had once glowed with deadly energy. Now, there was only a faint scar, a thin line where the tear had been sealed.
"I… I think it worked," Morty whispered, his voice hoarse. "Rick, I don't feel the energy anymore."
Summer let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her eyes shining with relief. "You did it, Morty. You really did it."
Rick grinned, though there was a weariness in his eyes. "Damn right you did. The rift's closed, at least for now. You're not out of the woods yet, but we've bought you some time. Time to recover, to get back to full strength."
Morty sat up slowly, his body still weak, but the weight of the rift—the constant fear of it tearing him apart—was gone. He looked at Rick and Summer, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you. Both of you. I don't know if I would've made it without you."
Rick waved him off, but his eyes were soft. "Don't get all sentimental on me, Morty. We're not done yet. This was just the first step. Now we get you back on your feet, and then we take the fight to the council."
Summer smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Yeah. We're not letting Vaxon and his cronies get away with any of this. Not after what they've put us through."
Morty nodded, a spark of determination flaring in his chest. The wound might have been closed, but the battle was far from over. They had survived this round, but Vaxon and the council were still out there, lurking in the shadows, planning their next move.
But Morty wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't broken, wasn't hanging on by a thread. He was stronger now, stronger because of Rick and Summer, because of the bond they shared. And with that strength, they would face whatever came next.
Morty stood up, shaky but determined. "Let's get ready. It's time to end this."
Rick grinned, that old spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Now you're talking, Morty. Let's give those bastards hell."
As the three of them left the lab, ready to prepare for the next phase of their fight, Morty knew one thing for sure: no matter how dark things got, no matter how many battles they had to fight, they would face them together. They were a family, bound by love and loyalty, and nothing—not even the council—could tear them apart.
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