The kitchen had settled into a lull again. Beth scraped the last of the eggs onto a second plate. Summer had stopped laughing but kept glancing up, chewing the inside of her cheek like she was still trying to figure out why her little brother suddenly sounded like someone who knew things.
Morty finished his toast in slow, unhurried bites. No slouch, no dazed blinking. Just eating. Methodical. Still.
Then came the sound.
Not a grand entrance just the quiet groan of a door creaking open, followed by the unmistakable shuffle of feet that didn't quite lift themselves off the floor. A scent trailed in before him: motor oil, ozone, stale alcohol, and burning circuits. The usual perfume of a man who hadn't slept in his own bed or remembered what day it was.
Rick Sanchez stepped into the kitchen like it belonged to him even when it didn't. Hair wild, lab coat stained at the sleeves, eyes already half-lidded from whatever he'd been building, drinking, or dismantling in the garage.
He didn't greet anyone. Just moved straight to his chair at the end of the table and dropped into it with a soft grunt. His hands fished around until they found a half-eaten muffin from yesterday and popped it into his mouth without care for whether it was his.
He looked around the room as he chewed, eyes darting from Beth to Summer, then Morty... and finally landing on Jerry, who had gone still behind his newspaper again, as if invisibility could be summoned by paper and regret.
Rick blinked once. Then tilted his head.
"So… what happened?" he asked, voice dry, mouth still full. "Everyone seems unusually chipper. Except the useless bag of mayonnaises trying to read a newspaper like it owes him money."
Jerry's paper trembled just slightly, the edge crinkling as he lowered it a few inches, revealing the flushed, wary face of a man still nursing a fresh bruise to the ego.
"No one's chipper," Jerry mumbled. "Everyone's just ganging up on me."
Beth turned from the stove with a smirk. "No one ganged up on you, Jerry. You walked into your own trap and forgot how to get out."
Summer didn't look up from her phone. "It was honestly hard to watch. Like a deer trying to outsmart headlights."
Rick grunted, amused. "Heh. Classic Jerry."
Then his gaze shifted, sharper now, zeroing in on Morty without the buffer of motion. Just a long, still look.
Morty met it, calm, unblinking.
"You say something smart for once, Morty?" Rick asked, squinting. "Or did Jerry just sink below his usual sub-basement of suck?"
Morty paused, wiped his fingers on a napkin, and said flatly, "Let's just say gravity did its job, and Jerry brought the rest."
Rick blinked.
Then he laughed. Not big. Just one short burst that rasped in his throat like an old engine turning over.
"Ha! Atta boy."
Jerry sighed, lowering the paper completely now, slouching deeper into his seat.
"Does no one care that I was just trying to start my day?"
"You did," Summer said, still scrolling. "You started it dumb."
Beth dropped a fresh cup of coffee in front of Rick, who took it without thanks.
Morty leaned back in his chair, quiet, casual, just observing. No tension in his shoulders. No need to force anything. He simply let the moment settle.
Rick was watching him again. Not suspicious. Just... noticing.
And for now, that was fine.
____________________
Yo guys drop a stone and stuff you know the usual
So we're about to enter a mess so if any body have question feel free to let me know
Regardless love ya❤️