#mortimer is

[mcrtimersmith]

tfw the kid you adopted as your little brother is happy.

[mcrtimersmith]

He’s been watching this entire past week: the inner turmoil that was manifesting inside of Morty, but it was not his place to say ANYTHING. But this whole interaction that he’s been going through? It hits home far more than anyone could even BEGIN to imagine. Obviously something had happened with his RICK. Rick C-137 and it was KILLING him.

This was what he meant.

This was EVERYTHING that Mortimer predicted.

“Ricks truly are PARASITES.” He mutters to himself in an empty office. Rico and Mori are nowhere to be seen; Sylvie and Reider off making their own ruckus. “The vast MAJORITY of them are diseases, spreading their cruelty to everyone around them. Every little bit of happiness, they HAVE to squash it out beneath the sole of their shoe. They DON’T CARE.” 

Angrily, he stands up from where he’s seated, storming towards the window of his grandiose office. He stares out of it, glaring holes down into the streets below. There are more RICKS out tonight; Mortys tend to not venture out this late. 

“They just can’t stand anyone else being happy when they themselves have so much self-hatred. They need to make everyone else just as unhappy as them. They just make EVERYTHING worse.  They can’t F-FUCKING st-stop their b-bullshit-” Mortimer silences himself, the stutter coming back full force like he’d been hit by a freight train.

“I-It’s....it’s fuckin’ stupid....I...” He drops back into his seat, head going into his hands. “I...I ju-just don’t want any-anyone else b-becoming l-like me.”