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misslisamiray · 18 days ago

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After another stupidly long hiatus, I'm finally uploading the newest chapter of Down With the Rickness! Pic is not... super relevant to the chapter, but I needed one that had Rick, Morty and Jerry in it. And despite having a LOT of saved images from the show, this was 1 of 2 which fit that description. Just kinda pay Beth no mind here since she's only mentioned in this chapter and not actually in it, yet I couldn't bring myself to crop her out.

Anyway, I'll post the Ao3 and ff dot net links later - probably after work. For now, new chapter is below the cut!

After a few more seconds of stunned silence, Morty sighed and admitted, “I was just trying to help. Maybe I did get carried away and fall down a couple of weird rabbit holes – that guy who yells about viruses not actually existing really does pop up everywhere – but it’s ‘cause I’m worried about you.”

“I keep telling you, you don’t have to be. I warned you this wasn’t going to be pretty, didn’t I? *Cough!* Make no mistake, I’m sick and miserable, but I’ll be alright in a few days. And that’d be true whether you Velcroed yourself to me like you’ve decided to do, or left me alone in the garage like I wanted.” Rick grumbled. Morty kept staring at him, but didn’t say anything, so he added, “Besides, with all the shit we’ve been through, I don’t get why this is freaking you out so badly.”

“I’ve never seen you sick before. I don’t like it.” Morty replied quietly, turning so he wasn’t facing Rick anymore.

“You don’t like it? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly having the time of my life with it myself.” Rick scoffed. He blew his nose and was about to say more, when he heard Morty’s barely audible addition of “It’s scary.”

“Scary? Aww Morty, come on. You’re *SNIFF!* really making mountains out of molehills here. Y’know you’re not doing either of us any favors with this overthinking shit, right? You’re just making my headache worse and getting yourself closer to developing your first ulcer before your 18th birthday.” Rick complained. However, the anger was draining from his voice.

“Maybe. It’s just…I just got you back to normal. Now this happens. If you’re not lying, then yeah, it’s nothing. A minor nuisance, sounds worse than it is and all that. But I can’t shake the feeling that you are lying about how bad this is, Rick, and…”

Rick had been tired already, but as the realization of just how worried Morty was about him sank in, he suddenly felt 10 times more exhausted. The anger and annoyance was gone – well, except about his flask being empty. Rick was currently very annoyed about that. He struggled to come up with a response, while Morty was trying to bring himself to voice the rest of his thoughts.

Their shared struggle was cut short when Morty tried to say something, but all that came out was “*Ah-ah-Achoo!*” followed by a surprised, “Oh.” Rick sighed and slapped his forehead.

“C’mere, buddy. Let Grandpa check something.” He placed a hand on Morty’s shoulder and stuck the thermometer in his ear.

“Ow! Careful, Rick! Hey, that reminds me. We should check yours again, too.” Morty promptly pulled the first thermometer out of his pocket and stuck it in Rick’s mouth. Rick rolled his eyes, but didn’t object. The ear thermometer beeped first.

“Hmmm. Perfectly normal 98.6. Good for you.” Rick observed, mumbling around the thermometer. He was clearly jealous.

“Well, except for little kids, most people don’t get fevers when they have a cold.”

“Which means some of us do, if you’re trying to use that as an argument for my having something worse.”

“Stop talking or it won’t take the reading right. You should anyway, since you hardly have any voice left.” Morty instructed. Rick nodded, reluctantly agreeing. The thermometer beeped a few seconds later.

“101.1. Rick, that’s higher than it was this morning. You are getting sicker.” Morty worried, a fearful look in his eyes.

“Huh. No wonder I feel even worse.” Rick said, a little surprised by the new information. Seeing how those words instantly increased the worry on Morty’s face, he quickly backtracked with, “It hasn’t gone up that much. And a fever isn’t considered dangerous in an otherwise healthy adult until it hits like, 104, 105. Mine’s well *SNIFF!* below that. Come on, stop staring at me that way.” Morty did not, in fact, stop staring, and Rick had to look away. A few seconds later, he heard sniffling alongside him.

“Fucking hell, don’t cry. There is no part of this situation worth crying over. Oh. You’re not.” Rick said, looking over his shoulder at Morty. The boy’s nose was running, and he was trying to stop it but having no luck. Rick handed him the tissue box, muttering, “Well, good. I guess. If these are my only choices, I’d rather deal with sick kid than crying kid.” Morty blew his nose, and then the room was quiet except for the TV and rain.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?” Rick asked after a moment.

“I want to, Rick. But no, I don’t.” Morty answered.

“Fine. I have an idea. Come on.” Rick sighed, forcing himself to get up again. He grabbed Morty’s arm and pulled him up, too. Morty started to object, but decided to let Rick drag the two of them back to the garage.

“First thing’s first.” Rick grumbled, picking up a bottle of blue liquor with alien writing on the label. He took a long swig from it and grimaced – he’d forgotten how much this stuff burned going down even without a sore throat. He still contemplated refilling his flask with the liquid, but quickly shoved it aside, deciding some ordinary whiskey would be better. Flask full and shoved back in his pocket, he decided to finish the small amount left in the bottle.

“Come on, Rick. Did you really drag me back into the drafty old garage just to watch you get drunk? You need to go back to bed. And since you took my phone, let me use yours to call Mom again.” Morty complained, shivering a little and wrapping his arms around himself. Noticing that, Rick removed the top 3 blankets from the pile he was struggling to keep wrapped around himself and clumsily draped them around Morty’s shoulders.

“That’s not the only reason. But I agree with you. It’s freezing in here, and we’re leaving as soon as I’m done proving my point. *COUGH!* *COUGH!* Where’s the stupid thing?...” Rick groused, searching for something on, then under his workbench. After a moment, he found what he was looking for – the floating cubes from earlier, and the small computer that displayed their test results.

Rick pressed a few keys, and the “WARNING! WARNING! INFECTION DETECTED! INFECTION DETECTED!” alarms started to go off again, flashing lights included.

“Shut up! We know that part already!” Rick snapped, frantically pressing more keys to hurry up and get to the next stage. The alarm stopped, and three out of five cubes began levitating. Rick grabbed one out of the air, hitting a button to deactivate it, and tossed the unneeded cubes back under the workbench. One of the remaining two floated over his head, while the other hovered above Morty’s.

“Analyzing subject: Rick Sanchez!”

“Analyzing subject: Morty Smith!”

Rick drummed his fingers against his hip impatiently, eager for this to be over.

“Analysis complete. Subject: Rick Sanchez.”

“Analysis complete. Subject: Morty Smith.”

“Status: INFECTED! INFECTED!”

Rick and Morty both covered their ears as the cubes loudly announced their simultaneous findings.

“Ugh, tell us something we don’t know. Rick, you really *Cough!* need to make some serious adjustments to this system once you’re feeling better!” Morty complained, yelling to be heard over the cubes.

“Well aware of that, Morty. *COUGH!* *COUGH!* Come on, you stupid things. Let's get to the info we actually need.” Rick muttered, grabbing the cubes out of the air and handing Morty his. A small needle emerged from each cube to take blood samples from the two of them.

“Beginning analysis Stage 2: Identifying infection type.” the AI droned in unison with itself as the cubes processed the samples.

“Infection type: Viral. Virus origin: Earth. Infection risk level is low, but contagion level is high. Beginning final virus identification now.” the computer system continued. Morty covered his ears again, while Rick resisted the urge to do so.

“Analysis complete. Infection in both subjects identified. Which subject would you like to display results for first?” the AI asked, thankfully no longer talking in stereo with itself. Rick grabbed Morty’s cube and pressed a button on it.

“Displaying test results for subject: Morty Smith. Infection identified as: A strain of rhinovirus, also known as the common cold.” the computer informed them both, displaying the results on the screen.

“Okay, I get it.” Morty sighed, sounding tired and defeated. He tugged on Rick’s arm and asked, “Can we please go back in the house now?”

“In a minute. Just in case you get it in your head that by total coincidence, you’ve caught a cold at the same time I’m suffering from at least two completely unrelated *COUGH! *COUGH!* diseases, we gotta do mine, too. Not like you didn’t already see my test results earlier today, but what *URP!* ever.”

Rick switched Morty’s cube with his own, and after a few seconds, the AI announced, “Displaying test results for subject: Rick Sanchez. Again. Infection identified as: A strain of rhinovirus, often referred to as the common cold. Which I already told you this morning. Just because you don’t like the answer, doesn’t mean repeating the test will get you a different one.”

Rolling his eyes at his computer’s sarcasm, Rick quietly asked Morty, “There. You satisfied now?” Morty nodded, and the two of them headed back into the house. They both collapsed onto the couch, sitting in opposite corners. Except for some coughs and sniffles, there was silence between them.

Rick broke it by asking, “So… pretty anticlimactic, huh? *Achoo!*” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

“Yeah, but that’s *Achoo!* a good thing.” Morty sighed, adjusting his blankets.

Rick tossed him a pillow and asked, “So, how are you feeling?”

“I’m… not sure? Like, not terrible, but not great, either. *Cough!* My throat’s a little scratchy and my head feels all fuzzy. Mostly I’m just tired and cold. This how yours started?”

Rick glanced sympathetically at Morty and said, “Yeah, pretty much. With any luck, it *SNIFF!* won’t get worse for you. Shouldn’t, since colds are usually so minor. Plus you’ve got youth on your side. Then again, that never did me any favors, so there’s no guarantee it *COUGH!* will for you, either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I was the kid who always seemed to get hit worse by whatever bug was going around my stupid school than anybody else did. I told you my not dealing well with being sick isn’t a new thing.” Rick explained with an annoyed shrug.

“Sounds rough. I don’t think I’m like that. I mean, when was the last time I missed school because I was sick, and not because of you? It’s *Achoo!* been a long time. Can’t say I remember it happening much before, either. So good for me, I guess?” Morty commented, trying to picture Rick at his age or younger.

Rick nodded in agreement, then complained, “Y’know, despite being a germ magnet growing up, I somehow didn’t get the fucking chicken pox until it went through Beth’s preschool. Ugh. Now that was terrible. You’re young enough you just got the shot and never actually had it. Trust me, you’re lucky.” He scowled and shuddered a little at the memory.

Morty giggled at that mental image, then said, “Uh-huh. Aw geez, isn’t it like, kind of dangerous to get that as an adult?”

“Eh. Can be. Especially if you end up with secondary skin infections from uh, not listening when your wife tells you scratching with a busted robot arm is a bad idea.” Rick admitted sheepishly. Morty laughed a little more at that. Somehow, it didn’t surprise him that Rick had listened to reason just as badly 40 something years ago as he did now.

“Stop trying to picture it. *COUGH!* Anyway, that ordeal was hell on Earth for a solid month, but I recovered just fine. You see the point I’m trying to make here, Morty?” Rick grumbled, pretending to be annoyed by Morty’s amusement even though that had obviously been the point of telling that story.

“I guess.” Morty replied quietly, worry furrowing his brow again.

“What? Morty, you’ve seen my stupid test results twice now. Don’t tell me you think I fabricated them, or it’s another part of the detection system being broken?” Rick asked crossly.

“*SIGH!* No, I’m taking all that at face value. You have a bad cold. Nothing worse. It’s just… never mind.” Morty said, flipping through his notes again.

“Don’t do that shit. Whatever you’re gonna say, just say it.”

“Well, I read that complications from colds are rare, but they do happen. Especially if your health isn’t great to begin with, or you’re, you know, older. Like, I can’t shake this worry you could still get your wish and end up with pneumonia, Rick.” Morty admitted.

“Jesus Christ, Morty. Will you let it fucking go already?! What do I have to do to snap you out of this once and for all?” Rick yelled, setting off another series of coughs and instantly regretting raising his voice that much. Once the coughing subsided, he drank the rest of the water Morty had brought him earlier, tried to say something else… and discovered he couldn’t.

“It’s okay. We’ll talk about it later once you feel a little better. Morty told him, forcing a smile. Rick nodded, realizing he wouldn’t know what to say if he could talk. Another episode of the fishing show came on. This time, Gene-With-A-Beard was listing facts about tuna.

Just then, Jerry entered the room, saying, “I heard the alarms going off again. Does that mean the Mimicking Disease finally moved onto copying some other illness? I was a little scared to come check. Not to mention confused because I thought I still heard coughing. What’s going on?” Rick slapped his forehead, now even more annoyed he’d lost his voice.

“Dad, for the zillionth time, Rick lied about that. The alarms were just going off because we had to run the test again, and… *ACHOO!*” Morty tried to explain.

Caught off guard and further confused by the sneeze, Jerry asked, “Wait, you’re sick now, too?”

“Yeah, I caught Rick’s cold. It’s *Sniff!* not a big deal. Hey, Rick, gimme the tissues back.” Morty sighed, in no mood to deal with his father’s cluelessness. Rick handed him the nearly empty box.

“Let me get this straight. The whole scary, turns from one mystery disease to another at the drop of a hat illness, really was just a cover for having a cold?” Jerry asked, turning his attention to Rick.

Rick nodded, glaring at Jerry, while Morty said, “Yes, Dad. I told you that hours ago.”

Ignoring his son and staring intently at his father-in-law, Jerry continued, “And this cold is doing this much of a number on you? You’ve looked worse every time I’ve seen you today, Rick. That cough sounds brutal.” Unable to do anything else, Rick just continued glaring at Jerry, hating every second of this more than the last. He grabbed the tissue box back from Morty.

“Rick lost his voice. Just leave him alone and ask me if you have any more dumb questions, okay?” Morty said wearily.

“Seriously? I wouldn’t have thought Rick could even get a cold in the first place. I guess that’s why I didn’t listen to you earlier, Morty. But there’s no like, built-in robot voice to talk for him in case of a situation like this? That’s… surprising.”

“Maybe, but none of Rick’s implants are working.” Morty admitted.

Rick gave him an absolutely furious glare, mouthing and trying to yell, “What the fuck?!”

“What? Dad knowing that changes nothing, Rick. Besides, Mom should be home soon. I hope. And she’ll pick up on it after spending two minutes with you.” Morty pointed out. Rick wanted to argue, but quickly realized he couldn’t, both because of his laryngitis and the fact Morty was right. He angrily turned away from both Morty and Jerry, burrowing into his blanket pile.

“Holy shit, really? Is that like, a normal thing that happens when he gets sick?” Jerry asked, clearly surprised by this new information.

“Yes, really. And I don’t know if it’s normal or not. Rick wouldn’t give me a straight answer. But that *Cough!* doesn’t matter right now, Dad. What does is now that you finally know what’s going on, you can help us. Like, actually help. Not come up with some harebrained, save the day with anime plan, then go sulk for hours when you realize that won’t do shit.” Morty answered.

“Right, right. You both need medicine. More tissues, obviously. Have either of you even eaten today?”

“Not much, no.” Morty said. Rick just shrugged angrily under his blankets.

“I’ll make soup. But I should probably go to the store first before it closes.” Jerry said.

“Yes, you should.” Morty agreed. Jerry put on his jacket and was about to head out the door, when something occurred to him, and he turned back towards the kitchen.

“Dad, you’re going the wrong way. Please don’t get sidetracked again. It’s really important you just go to the store now.” Morty sighed, worried his father was getting distracted by another nonsense idea.

“In a minute, I promise. I just have to check if there’s any ingredients I’m missing. While I’m doing that, you two write down what you need when I go shopping.” Jerry replied. As he disappeared into the kitchen, he added, “Actually, maybe only Morty do that. Sorry, Rick, but I’m not going on any errands to planet Flim Flam or the Garblygook dimension for you tonight.” Still unable to reply to that verbally, Rick stuck one hand out from under the blankets to flip Jerry off. Morty grabbed his notebook – at least Rick hadn’t portalled that to God knows where – and started writing things down. A few minutes later, Jerry came back, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs on it.

“It’s not going to cure you or anything. I mean, no one can cure the common cold. Though come to think of it, Rick, I’m really surprised you can’t. I mean, you’d think that would be easy compared to making clones or that gun that kills a person by making their organs fight each other, but…” Jerry began. Rick tried to kick him, but, not taking into consideration that he couldn’t see where Jerry was, only succeeded in kicking over the coffee table.

“Dad, shut up! You do kinda have a point, but now is not the time!” Morty interrupted, righting the tipped over table. That done, he asked, “What have you got there? Please don’t tell me it’s some olde timey home remedy your great-great grandparents swore cured everything, even though no one they knew lived past 40.” Under his layers of blankets, Rick laughed silently at that.

“Yes and no. But since you’re both being so ungrateful, maybe I shouldn’t give this to you.” Jerry scoffed.

“Look, Dad, it’s been a long day. And between Rick thinking he could fix this by making the germs people-sized, or people germ-sized, and the crazy shit I found online, I’ve had it with… unconventional cold remedies, okay? I just want you to go to the store and come back with *Achoo!* actual medicine.” Morty sighed.

Jerry’s expression softened, and he replied, “As I was saying, it’s not a cure, but this tea will make the two of you feel better. It has honey from my bees. And I guess this counts as an ‘olde-timey home remedy’, but for your information, honey has been scientifically proven to help with coughs and sore throats. I made sure to put a lot in yours, Rick.”

“Thanks, Dad. Here.” Morty said, grabbing the mug Jerry had placed in front of him and handing him the small shopping list. After thinking it over for a few seconds, Rick uncovered his head, sat up a little straighter and turned around. Still glaring at Jerry, he grabbed his mug of tea and took a sip.

“I’m assuming the only reason you’re not thanking me is that you can’t talk right now, so you’re welcome.” Jerry said smugly. Rick ignored him, grabbing the shopping list and pen. After scribbling down a few things, he shoved the list back into Jerry’s hand.

“Is your writing always this messy, or just when you don't feel well? What am I looking at here, Rick?” Jerry asked, trying to puzzle out Rick’s terrible handwriting. Morty took the list and looked it over. After a few seconds, he said, “He just wants you to get cough drops, but not the strawberry flavored kind. There’s like a paragraph about why those suck, and then ‘Try not to fuck this up, Jerry. I know that’s hard for you, but try.” Morty handed the list back to Jerry, who headed for the door, grabbed an umbrella, and finally left to go shopping. Once he was sure Jerry was gone, Rick quickly downed the rest of his tea. Alone again, he and Morty sat there, half listening to the television.

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fanfic #my writing #my fic #down with the rickness #sickfic #chapter 15 #links coming later for those who prefer to do your fic reading elsewhere #rick sanchez #morty smith #jerry smith #beth smith #like i said she's not actually in this chapter #but she is in the pic #so it wouldn't be right to not tag her too #and she will be in the next chapter #space beth and summer will also #i am so sorry this took so long to post #i hope my readers think it was worth the wait #there's parts of this i really find cute & thoroughly enjoyed writing #i hope everyone likes the “simultaneous caretaking” stuff #because it brings me so much joy #and there will be a little in all the remaining chapters #as for the pic #rick doesn't slap jerry in this chapter #but he does try to kick him #so it kind of works?#anyway #yay new chapter is finally up!

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