Chapter Text
"You're not put off that I wear a skirt right?" Morti cautiously asks her grandfather who had taken his seat upon the mattress in the corner of the room, flask in hand. He was drinking every hour and Morti now understood where Beth had gotten the heavy habit from.
"No? Why would I be?" Was Rick's reply as he stares at her a little heavily.
It had been two days since she had gotten to known him, her previously aforementioned grandfather had a name and a personality that she never expected. He wasn't like their neighbours grandfather who lived in a home. He was here, drinking and talking with coherence, clearly not seventy as he so portrayed.
She chalks up his prolonged stare to the awkwardness.
"I'm not exactly like my sister Summer. I like these things you know and I don't um — Kinda embarrassing to admit," Morti mumbles under her breath, clutching one arm as a comforting mechanism. She wasn't used to anyone really talking to her so this was also new to her.
"I never got the girl experience in grade school and I guess I'm finally figuring myself out? No kisses, no handholding with my crushes, barely even eye contact. And the skirts they make me... me." Morti explains her reasoning, eyes down and spinning on the spot to show how much she loved the fabric sitting at her hips.
Rick takes another swig from the flask mulling over her words lidding his eyes as they drifted lower to where her hands were. "Morticia—"
"Grandpa Rick, just call me Morti okay." She reasoned with him. She had never been partial on the name Morticia and blamed her parents on naming her something old fashioned. It honestly was one of the reasons she had trouble making friends and became more secluded and jealous of her sibling who had the name she wished she had.
She looks up from the floor connecting her eyes with Rick.
There was a look of nervousness upon his face, lips twitching at the seams but it quickly fades before Morti could derive what it meant.
"You dont need experiences like that while you're so young, you're Morti that's the important part."
She's Morti, that's her and only her.
"R-really?" Her stutter appears, being the first of many in front of Rick. He doesn't tease her for her impairment, only smiles in her view.
"Yeah, you're my granddaughter and I'm proud of that."
"The fuck you looking all sad for?" Rick's harsh voice echoes in her ears and Morti whimpers at their predicament, knowing all too well she had gotten them into this mess with her impulsive mouth.
She couldn't help herself, it was unfair to her that the prince of this fucked up place was touching her skirt and trying to lift it higher than she was willing. Of course Rick had berated her back at home to change before they left but it wasn't often they were going on a easy adventure, one that involved walking and nothing more so she thought it would be for the best.
Obviously, Morti thought wrong.
"In case you forgot Rick, that pervert tried to look up my skirt," she huffs as she nudges closer in the corner they were hiding around bumping into Rick's arm, a stampede of footsteps churning closer to their location.
The prince clearly took her shrill no's as an act of war, sending his guards after them. And Rick, as much as he seemed to hate her in this moment, didn't want to be on the other end of their spears.
"Yeah and?"
And? Was that all he could say? Clearly Rick was disinterested in her embarrassment.
Morti only scowls upwards to him, keeping her voice under check as everything happens all too fast.
The guards race by their corner in groups of four, trundling along as if they didn't notice the blue spiky hair in the corner of their eye. Morti almost gasps in being found but Rick stealthily moves his callous hand on her mouth, muffling her.
He smelt of metal, clearly from their dealings earlier in exchanging swords for some mumbo jumbo magical crystals Rick wanted but there was something more, something acidic.
She tries to speak but his hand silences her further as the men fade off into the distance. Only then he lets go and she can see the fading thinning slice in his palm, blood caked and dry upon it. Her brows furrow in concern as do her lips.
"What did you do?" Morti tries to get Rick to speak but he brushes her off again going for the portal gun.
"And why didn't you use that earlier?" She exasperates. Knowing that they were in the clear she pushes away from Rick and brushes her skirt, making sure that it hung just above her knees. She didn't need it riding up her thighs when she walked for an exact repeat of last time.
"I know you're dumb or whatever but I thought you could use your brain for this one. If they knew I had guns and the like then they wouldn't be trading garbage steel swords for their precious gems Morti. They would want more of what I got and this stuff, I ain't selling."
"Oh, sorry..." She didn't know that people could be so greedy.
"Yeah you better be," Rick huffs in annoyance setting their co-ordinance back home. He checks around the corner of the commotion and it is dead silence. Not a foot nor sound is to be heard. The coast was clear giving Rick all the freedom in producing the bright green portal and hum accompanying it from his portal gun.
"Get in," he gives her a light push towards the hue and she stumbles through it, nearly landing on her naked knees. She turns around as her hands touch the concrete giving Rick a dirty look.
"I can walk you know."
"Yeah and I can make a deal without shit going wrong," was his sarcastic reply.
She tries and simmers her annoyance in his presence. Things had been going so well over the last few weeks ever since she had been introduced to her grandpa. They had gotten into a rhythm, talking and joking with each other every day and Rick took them on adventures too, at the expense of her school attendance.
Not that she cared at all, she was really a nobody there. Not even Jessica, her crush, knew that she existed and the far removed from school she was, the weaker her feelings deep in her heart became.
Morti was happy with Rick and that's what mattered to her most — until she wasn't.
"You're lucky your grandpa has skilful hands in getting what he wants otherwise we'd be blasting and shit, no thanks to you." Rick's voice turns a low octave, dangerously treading the line between hate and abuse. Morti recoils.
This was the first of many times she would do that.
"I said I was sorry, geez." She hoists herself up from her lowered angle and brushes off her knees that were barely dusted. She can feel his eyes burn into her figure but tries to ignore that. Rick was old, he was really no danger to her.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," Rick shakes his head. "This wouldn't have happened if wore jeans like my Morty."
She freezes and stares at him dumbfounded, confused on what he meant by his Morti?
That was her right?
Unless he was doing that weird negging thing to get her to wear pants like her sister. Morti wanted none of this reverse psychological bullshit where she was perfectly content in being herself.
"I thought you liked my skirts Rick?"
There's that twitch of his lip again, one that felt out of character for him but Morti doesn't comment. She stares at him, narrowing her eyes at his accusations with her hands on her hips but she was only twelve and not as scary as she thought against Rick towering above.
His lips part and a breath of air passes, Morti almost thinks that she hears a word out of them. It can't be right? Rick was always loud.
"Shit," was what she supposedly heard Rick say but he didn't look that pissed as he did a moment ago nor on edge at her appearance. He sighs, loudly to cover his mistake, sliding a hand down his features. Rick looked tired and Morti knew it had been a stressful outing.
"I get that you're not like Summer but she still looks cute and classy," Rick twirls his hand in the air, "—whatever label you want to slap on that, without the dangers of an upskirt."
That was a non answer to her. She knew Rick could say yes or no so why was he avoiding the obvious. Morti presses.
"You're deflecting Rick. I know you said my Morti. I know I'm twelve but I am not a toddler, I can hear and think things for myself."
Rick's eyelid twitches and he rubs it. There was something off with Rick but she couldn't put her finger on it. "I didn't, you're imagining things because you clearly want drama like those girly TV shows you like to watch when no one is bothering you. I know Morti, you can't hide who you are and unlike the things you watch I do not want to star in some low budget garbage where the only draw point is the petty over the top arguments over one misplaced word."
Still a non answer. "Do you like me in a skirt or not?" Morti tries to get him to answer something so simple that even a pigeon can coo at the correct call but Rick backtracks, hands already on her shoulders pushing her out.
"I'm not falling for this shit Morti." Rick mutters as he escorts her out of the garage, locking the door behind her.
Did he just do that? Morti tests the handle, it was jammed. She was dumbfounded and couldn't believe that he was being so defensive over nothing.
That was the first crack of many, one that would shatter her perception of her grandfather but it was all too soon to tell.
Rick sure was senile all right.
Morti wasn't sure what had gotten into him. Looking back he had this sort of edge to him before they left for the drop off but she didn't bring it up, thinking that Rick was just as nervous as she was. But that persisted till now. Was he really hiding his feelings over her choice of dress knowing that she was on the cusp of being a teenager to avoid a meltdown?
Morti knew how Summer had acted, many hushed insults slung between both her parents at her shriekish behaviour but Morti would be better than that. She wasn't her sister and she wasn't her but she guesses after a few dejected huffs of air out of her system that Morti should could take a few pages out of her book.
She's in her bedroom, door closed trying on the rest of her wardrobe. It wasn't much of a selection, just a few repeats of her favourite yellow shirt and different bottoms to go with them but that was dominated by her six different sets of skirts, each varying between grey, black and navy blue. Of course she hadn't worn the other colours often, landing on navy blue on most days but that was because it really did fit the yellow that she wore above.
Jeans. Morti hates what they represent. Morti hates that this was a way to conform. She wasn't doing anything wrong but it wearing jeans was going to stop Rick from out bursting at her again then she'll suck it up for a few hours and swap outfits.
Undoing her skirt with the zipper in the back it slides down her legs and pools around her feet. She hoists one foot in the air and slides the leg in, thinning out the fabric so it didn't sit so crumpled on her thin legs. She's so focused on changing that she doesn't hear the footsteps approach her door and handle turning.
"Morti—" Rick pauses at the sight, eyeing her from head to toe landing right on her white panties. She was hopping on the other leg in a daze, trying to get it to fit in without a care in the world.
Her cheeks tint in flush. Morti was embarrassed to be caught changing and even more embarrassed that Rick huffed a short echoing laugh out of his lips. But it quickly stops as it comes and his face sinks to rest. That same indifferent look. It was starting to annoy Morti.
Rick appeared unreadable with his blank expression, ogling the rest of her exposed body. She lifts her hands to cover herself up but that doesn't do much with her pants partly on and top a crumpled mess exposing her midriff.
And to make matters worse after all the silence Rick just turns around and leaves without a word, leaving the door wide open.
"Wait, Rick. Come back!" She hurriedly hops to the door, yelling into the hall, trying to gain Rick's attention but he is gone.
Jerry notices the commotion, coming up the steps but he yelps at her near naked form, covering his eyes with his hands and feeling around the walls for the handle. Morti always got that covered, closing the door to avoid any more mishaps.
"It's okay dad, I got it." she huffs out trying to ease her beating heart. Why was Rick so weird?
"You can't walk around naked like that." Jerry sternly commands through the door.
"You're going to be a woman soon, you can't just be showing everyone your parts." He adds.
She knew that but Rick had barged in on her first. She rarely locked her door but maybe she would need to going forward.
"Yeah okay, sorry," Morti rolls her eyes on the other side of the door muttering an apology to suit her father's tastes, hearing the light pad of his feet return back downstairs to do anything that she had no care for.
Her father, he was a bit of an airhead but she loved him. It was the only father she had ever known and as much as he was starting to annoy her ever since Rick came into their lives she wouldn't snap and cause harm to him like Summer had last year. Morti shivers to the thought of her sister's violent tendencies.
Maybe with Rick here he could keep her in check.
Finally fastening up the zipper in the front Morti tries to do her little twirl in front of the mirror but the jeans did not have the same effect. She looked too skinny, too dressed up in jeans that went all the way down to her ankles. She loved the freedom she had with socks just above her ankle and the skirt bridging the gap to her thighs and this...
This look... this wasn't her. This did not scream Morti.
Skirts was what she was and she would just have to be more careful on who approached her in the future, making a mental note to keep an eye out for annoying princes on their future adventures.