Chapter Text
Morty hadn’t really ever planned on going to jail. Especially not when his child had been so young.
When he’d done all of those crimes, he’d been young and dumb. High off of leaving home finally and the toxic relationship with his sister and willing to do anything. Really no one should have left them alone in space at 14 and 16.
Not that they’d given anyone a choice.
Then when he’d come back to earth, he hadn’t expected the crimes to follow him. Had expected them to never find him on what most of space considered a planet filled with primitive creatures. With the few humans that got off planet as the exception rather then the rule. If they’d even heard of Earth in the first place. So of course he hadn’t expected them to find him. Unfortunately for him and the small family he’d built, they sure had.
Some alien had been visiting Earth for some reason or another, Morty hadn’t been informed of the reason, and had called in the tip about a big federation enemy. The federation breaking into Morty’s house and pinning him to the dining room table. Right in front of his wife and daughter. Pulling him away in handcuffs to not see either of them again. No one really visited him in prison.
As such he hadn’t known that Beth had married or had a kid of her own.
“You got a letter,” a guard growled at him, tossing the paper into his cell. Morty looked at it with extreme suspicion.
“Never gotten a letter before,” he said slowly, not even moving towards it. The guard, who had clearly expected this to be easy, walked a few steps back.
“New program. Random inmates assigned a pen pal. Something about trying to reform you,” he said, barking out a laugh, “Useless if you ask me.” Then, not wanting to endure more questions, the bug continued on down the line.
While he was still rather suspicious, he was more curious about this new supposed pen pal. Expecting some random frivolous letter by some kid they were expecting would make him want to not destroy the federation. Although that would be hard to do now after spending almost 30 years locked up in here. Either that or something fake, something that they could use to control him and make him believe it was all real.
But he opened up the letter anyways, not that it was too hard to do when the envelope was already torn open, what little mail any of them got opened before it ever got to the hands of prisoners. Looking at the rather neat script on the front that didn’t seem to match the name attached. “Rick Smith”. Morty had been around enough boys to know their hand writing wasn’t usually this neat. But it seemed familiar almost. He’d seen the loops in the return address somewhere before. He was honestly surprised there was even a return address at all.
Once he opened up the letter itself, consisting of two ish pages, the handwriting made a lot more sense. A bit more messy as it went on. Making it clear this Rick had tried to keep it nice and neat like the front but quickly devolved into his normal writing. Once he got rid of all of the loops and fancy parts, it was seemed easy enough to forge. If he’d wanted to.
The letter was more simple than he had expected for how much there had been. But finally Morty got an idea of what was actually happening. Surprised he hadn’t been more informed about this supposed program he had been enlisted into. Although he craved any contact with the outside world, he was willing to keep going since this was his only scrap of it.
“Mom seemed pretty happy that I had been picked for this, although less so when she learned just who I was writing too,” the letter read, Morty raising an eyebrow at it, but continued, “but I don’t exactly care. They said they picked me specifically, something about trying to get someone from the prisoners home planet so that you could connect better with me. Then finding out that you were my grandfather seemed to make them chose me in the end.”
That really confused and surprised Morty. The kid talked like Morty had been told all of this. Like he knew exactly who the kid was, probably hadn’t been informed that Morty didn’t exactly have contact with the outside world and hadn’t for quite a few decades.
“I included a picture of myself in the envelope from when Mom forced us to take stupid family photos recently. Even made sure to circle me so you’d know.” Morty stopped briefly reading the letter, reaching into the envelope to find the very picture his apparent grandson had been talking about. Somehow having not noticed it before this.
Instantly he recognized Beth even if it had been at least 2 decades since he’d seen her. Already knowing it was a family photo and seeing her blonde hair which neither him nor her mother had known where she’d gotten it from, it was clear which one was Beth. Next to her was who Morty assumed was her husband. Based on when he’d left, the age Rick had given him when describing himself at the beginning, it seemed his daughter had her kid a lot younger than he’d had his.
Rick hadn’t needed to circle himself. He was the only other person in the photo and it was clear which one he was as he was much younger looking than his father. No siblings to confuse him for either.
He was as far away from his parents as he could be, typical for most teens from what he’d heard at least. Hadn’t stuck around his own parents for long enough before escaping with his sister to be too much of a surly teen and hadn’t gotten to see Beth as a teen to know for sure. Only knowing tv and his sister. But he was clearly trying to escape his father who had a hand on his shoulder.
His hair was longer than most parents would like, his own had forced him to keep it short. A rule he broke the moment he got into space. Rick’s was a light blue curling up at the edges and just barely not touching his shoulders.
Both of his parents wearing clothes more on the fancy side but most likely it had been a suit or him not coming at all. Instead allowed to wear a yellow off the shoulder sweater which he had shoved up to his elbows and had since fallen just below it covering a turtleneck fishnet top and tight ripped jeans. Black belt hanging from one belt loop. Along with a chocker around his neck, making it look even more thin than it already was. The picture not showing his shoes but almost certainly something matching the rest of the outfit.
If the fact that he was right on the edge of the picture didn’t give away how little he wanted to be in it, his expression sure did. Unibrow pulled towards the center and a frown on his face. Close to a pout. Morty almost wondered if he was wearing some kind of lipstick.
Over top of him was the circle in bright red pen and the writing of “Rick aka me” near it. Morty quickly went back to the letter, keeping the picture right near by. Fingers absent-mindedly rubbing over it. Most of the letter was just the boy wondering about what got Morty into jail, especially one so far out in space. Morty wondered if he what kind of prison Morty was in. Ending off with the boy asking questions that seemed to have been prompted for him. They were at least written in the same handwriting, not seemingly forged either, so Morty assumed they had just been given to him and he’d forgotten he was supposed to ask them. Before signing off his name once again.
Morty sat for a moment, brain still having not fully processed that his daughter had grown up so much, that she now had a family of her own. Let alone that that child was talking with him. He wasn’t surprised to hear that Beth hadn’t been exactly happy about that fact but was also happy enough to talk with his grandson anyways.
After a few moments of contemplation, glad to not have to have a cell mate like he would have had in an earth prison, he finally looked around for paper to write back with. Only to not find any as he wasn’t exactly someone who wanted to write anything most of the time. Most of what he did when in his cell was think and occasionally read. Although that was rare, not even just because his dyslexia made it hard to read sometimes, but most of the books here were in alien languages. Even with how many alien languages he did know, it made his reading rather limited.
As such it wasn’t until the next day when he could finally get his hands on something to write with. Not just paper but the pen as well. The ink was no where near good but it made a legible line so Morty was fine with it. He stared at the paper for a few minutes, suddenly remembering why he’d never actually wrote to either his wife or his daughter when he’d been dragged away. Not even Summer had gotten a letter from him and she probably could have broken him out of prison. He wouldn’t have been able to go home but he wouldn’t have been here.
He hadn’t simply because he had no idea what the hell to say.
Brain suddenly shutting down the same way it had in school when forced to sit in front of a blank page before writing his essay due the next day. This was even worse however. This was going to be a letter to his grandson who he’d never meet. Who he was trying to make a good impression on. Having no idea how many letters the boy was supposed to send him but wanting that contact with the outside world for as long as he could have it. Feeling the need to talk to Rick specifically.
So he just started writing. Even knowing that it was not good even a little bit. He didn’t actually list his long list of crimes that had landed him in jail, one of Rick’s questions towards the beginning of the letter. It would have been a few papers all by itself to do so. Didn’t even touch on that, knowing he was instructed to ask, almost certainly to see if they could get something they didn’t already know out of Morty. He wasn’t stupid enough to do that.
Instead talking about what his days currently looked like, sure that Rick’s were more exciting. But eventually he’d had to wrap the letter up, going to run out of room soon. Even with flipping the page over. The next day actually sending the letter off and almost immediately forgetting about it.
Leading him to be surprised when the second letter came in. Taking a moment to remember about the whole program and opening it up. This one being a lot shorter than the first one. Only one page, the whole thing having the sloppier handwriting. Clearly showing he’d been trying to make a good first impression the same way that Morty had. The idea making Morty smile before he started reading.
“Because this is all going through the school, I get out of class for this. They’re only giving me an hour to write it, but it’s an hour less I have to go through PE. Hopefully this is the time they take out every time.
“Not a fan of school.
“Every time I bring it up to mom she always reminds me that you dropped out of school although I assume it’s a much cooler story then mom wants me to know.” It really wasn’t, Morty thought to himself. And definitely not the kind of story he was ready to pass onto his young grandson. Especially when he knew damn well that the federation was reading every letter. They did not need to know every little bit of his backstory.
And reading on, it seemed like they didn’t like school for two very different reasons. Rick going on to talk about how he was smarter than everyone around him. Morty on the other hand had never been good at school. Only learning things once he was out in the real world, out in space. He’d already been failing a good amount of school before they’d run away. There wasn’t even a slight option for him to graduate early.
“To mom it’s pretty clear you’re the boogeyman as if she can scare me into brushing my teeth or staying in school because you ended up in jail. She doesn’t even really talk about you except to tell me to be better than you. Most of what I knew about you was that you were in jail, she didn’t ever mention that you were in jail in SPACE!!!”
Morty laughed at the boys clear fascination with space. Thinking about how life might have been different if he’d been around in his daughter’s life, had been able to see his grandson be born and more importantly shown him the universe. That brief happy feeling quickly replaced as he realized how his daughter saw him now. Instead of focusing too hard on that feeling, he continued to read.
“One day I’ll go up there myself. Mom and dad don’t know about this but I’m working on a spaceship of my own in the garage. Mom almost never comes in and Dad only comes in when he thinks he needs to assert his dominance or whatever. That is what Dad mode is for however.
“Maybe once it’s done I could come and visit you.”
It wasn’t often that people got visitors in the federation prison. Morty wasn’t in the highest prison, getting an actual cell, so he was allowed visitors. But most people here were still connected to heavy crimes against the Federation. Just deemed as less dangerous than those who get sent to the big prison.
As such most people didn't want to visit even if they could. It was the reason Morty had only gotten one letter before this. Hadn’t even sent one back. And since coming here, he’d only really seen a hand full of prisoners getting actual visitors.
Morty was sure he would be allowed a visitor, especially if it was his grandson but he didn’t really know if he wanted it.
While Morty read the rest of the letter, he was a little fixated on the idea of his grandson coming to visit him. Wondering just what he would think of Morty if he actually got to see him. While Rick had sent him a picture with his letter, Morty hadn’t had one to give back. It’s not like they got access to a camera. The only picture he’d gotten taken of him since his mugshot was the pictures he’d gotten forcibly taken of him at his trial. Something that hadn’t lasted long and he hadn’t been able to keep those pictures later.
So unless the Federation stuck a picture in when they went searching through his letter to make sure it didn’t have any incriminating evidence in it, Rick hadn’t seen a picture of him. Morty wondered if his daughter had pictures of him hanging up in the house. From what Rick had said, he highly doubted it.
Just the same as before, once he’d finished reading the letter, he grabbed the paper he’d already prepared to write his letter back.
“I don’t think you should take life advice from me.” Morty started the letter, wishing he was working with a pencil instead of a pen so he could erase it. But he couldn’t go back now. Instead having to stick with whatever came to his mind first.
“The dropping out of school was because I’m not smart. Even if I had stayed around and graduated, I’m pretty sure I would be no where near doing anything particularly interesting. I had thought briefly as a kid of being a therapist but you kind of need a college degree and smarts to do that.”
It had been quite a while since he’d talked about his past. He wasn’t going to talk about anything to do with the rebellion he was apart of, not when he was clearly being monitored to make sure that he wasn’t sending anything confidential or anything. But it was nice to talk a little bit about before he’d gotten arrested. After leaving space for his own home planet and when it had seemed like he’d gotten away with it all.
No one here was going to ask him about why he’d gotten put in prison, all of them having similar stories. But they also didn’t really care about his life outside. The same way that Morty didn’t really care about any of their lives back.
But it weirdly all came rather naturally. Before signing off saying, “If you ever get the opportunity to get off planet, don’t waste time coming and seeing me. There are planets that you’d love more than hanging out with an almost 60 year old man in prison behind a glass wall.”
This time after sending the letter off, it was all he could think about. Wondering when his grandson got the letter and if he’d read it yet. Wondering if he’d gotten out of a class that he hated. Or if he’d had to skip a class he actually loved, although it didn’t seem Rick liked any of his classes.
Wondering if this time he might get another picture.
The one Rick had sent before was something Morty carried around with him everywhere. Keeping it in the pocket of his shirt, right next to his heart. Taking it out almost constantly to look at it. At first he would always look at Beth’s both familiar and unfamiliar face. She’d grown so much since he’d seen her last but still looked so similar to before.
But quickly his gaze would move to his young grandson. Eyes roaming the young boys frame slowly before he stuffed the picture back into his pocket with embarrassment.
It felt like forever before Morty got another letter even if he knew it was only a month. He couldn’t expect the letter to come to him the next day although with the amount of advanced tech he’d seen out in space, they should have a faster travel time for letters. And while Morty had tried his best not to, he couldn’t help himself but think about it every minute he could. It took everything in him not to open the letter the moment it ended up in his cell, not wanting to seem too desperate. Trying not to give away how much he loved the only two letters he’d gotten. Not wanting something they could easily use against him.
The moment the guard was out of sight, he slowly opened it. His heart going a mile a minute. The new picture being the first thing he saw. This one was a polaroid picture, which Morty didn’t even know they still sold. The lighting was terrible, probably taken at some kind of party with the only lights being multicolored. While there were random people in the background, Rick was the main subject in this one. Clearly having a lot more fun than in the pervious picture he’d sent.
His clothing was different as well. Or at least his shirt choice was different. Morty swallowing and thinking to himself, “This is really cementing my place in hell,” as he stared right at his young grandsons chest. Exposed by the low cut tank top. Not even the black netting of the fishnet shirt really covered anything up. Probably the same fishnet shirt as before but with a oversized tank top, where Morty could where it fell to right above his elbows. Neck hugged by the same chocker as before.
As his eyes wandered down to Rick’s tight, so unbelievably tight, jeans, Morty couldn’t help the thoughts coming into his head. Wishing this was a video, wishing he could see the back of the outfit. His brain conjuring it up without his permission. Morty having to wave away the internal picture of his grandson turning around and bending over anything, looking back up at Morty with a smirk on his face and saying, “Just going to stand there g-”
Morty quickly cut his thoughts off. Reading the accompanying letter before writing one of his own. Swapping out the picture in his pocket for the new one. Although this time a lot more shamefully.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t pull the picture out at least once a day. Trying to resist the way his brain turned towards a route it should not be going when it came to his grandson. But not able to help it sometimes. Thankful for when he could distract himself with working out or the work, the whole reason he was here instead of another prison.
An easy distraction but once he was alone in his cell or even just sitting by himself for food, his mind would wander back to the picture in his pocket. Trying to keep himself from what would only further damn him. Even as more letters came in, Rick now sending a picture with almost every letter. Morty couldn’t keep them all in his pocket, finding small bits of tape to tape them to the wall.
The unfortunate downside to that was that now he could more easily see them from his bed.
Most days, after working, Morty was exhausted. Not that he was the only one of course. But with that meant most nights he was falling asleep rather quickly. Only a few days were they allowed to work less, not a full day off but enough time to let them rest even for a few hours. And on days like that were times when Morty would take the time to help himself relax even further.
He didn’t jerk off as much as he had as a teenager. Even with his libido just as high, he was just too tired most of the time to do so now. Along with the fact that he didn’t have nearly enough privacy, he was forced to not. Allowing himself to only when he knew the guards would be around less and he was less tired.
Tonight was one of those night. Quick and fast as he fisted his own cock, biting down on his lip in a way he’d had to get used to again after years of being on the road, of not having to care about who really heard. But knowing that it was not the kind of thing you wanted the people around you knowing here. Or at least Morty didn’t.
His eyes opening briefly and falling on the pictures hung up on the wall across from him. Seeing specifically that second one, the one he’d kept in his pocket the longest. Even after he could have replaced it. The edges warped and a big crease across the middle from being folded so often. The picture was so far away from him and yet he was sure he could see it perfectly.
Roaming down his grandsons form and looking right at the edge of his shirt, wishing he could see it on the floor. Biting down on his lip harder to suppress a loud groan as he came the hardest he had in a while.
Staring down at the mess in his hands as clarity came back to him. Whispering out load to himself, “shit.”
“You mind giving me a turn?” Morty usually just ignored his fellow inmates. He didn’t really care to start fights, never being the best fighter, and he was often too exhausted to care too much about what they were doing. That however he hadn’t been able to handle.
He didn’t actually remember most of the conversation leading up to that or the fight that came after. Only really remembering the words that had made him see red. Putting the newest picture of Rick in his pocket before he’d beat the shit out of the guy. The only thing he’d had on the other guy had been surprise.
The guy clearly hadn’t seen it coming and Morty wasn’t actually seen fighting often so people didn’t know that he fought at all let alone how he fought.
But he really didn’t remember the fight. Seeing red the whole time and only coming back to himself as they were dragged off each other. Morty coming out with almost as many scars as the other guy. Spitting out the blood filling his mouth as he was pulled away. Put into solitary confinement for a solid month for it.
Morty really didn’t know why it had been for so long. Others had done much worse and gotten less time. And it had been his first and only real fight in his decades there. It had probably only been to scare him off of fighting again. As long as the other inmates didn’t try to come onto his grandson, even when he wasn’t there, Morty wasn’t planning on fighting anyone after that.
Spending most of his time alone thinking about the letter he would be coming back to. The picture that had been in his pocket having been confiscated so he couldn’t look at it. But he remembered every single picture that his grandson had given him. Could see them all perfectly in his minds eye. Having the time to finally actually arrange his thoughts and feelings about his grandson.
Just as he’d thought, the letter had been sitting on the floor of his cell once he’d gotten out of solitary. Just as the times before, he had to resist instantly tearing into the already open envelope. Instead slowly opening it. Ignoring the photo in favor of the letter in front of it. But feeling his heart race as he thought abut what this picture might look like this time. Mourning the picture he’d lost when getting in that fight. But thinking about how it had been a hundred percent worth it.
“Mom said she’s surprised you haven't asked about grandma.” Was how the letter opened. A little surprising but Morty continued reading, “So I figured I’d just make sure to mention that if you want to talk about her I can tell you plenty I guess.” It seemed Rick didn’t care much about his family but Morty was glad. He didn’t particularly want to talk about his now ex wife. Guilt brewing in his gut as he thought back to what he’d been thinking about someone who was definitely not her.
“Mom always gets all reminiscent around my birthday. Well really around all birthdays but it seems to be even worse around my own. Probably something about how young she had me. Something I never bring up to her in arguments and something she’s never thanked me for.” Morty gave a small chuckle at that before moving on, “But right around Christmas she starts getting all sad about the past and shit. I was a little surprised when they sent the letter just right to our house since we were out for Christmas break.”
Morty didn’t exactly keep track of the days of the year, it was hard to know while locked away and when the days weren’t exactly the same as those on earth. As such Morty didn't actually know that Christmas had passed, might have said something in his previous letter if he’d known it would be coming up.
“Sad I won’t be getting out of class for it but still.
“I do enjoy getting your letters.”
A heat warmed up his gut, not in a good way. Well technically it felt very nice but it was defiantly not something Morty should be feeling for his grandson. Knowing that Rick hadn’t meant it like that but not able to stop himself.
“But my birthday is January 15. I kind of forget that you don’t actually know all of that about me given that Mom hasn't talked to you since before I was born.”
It was in only a week. If he’d gotten the letter when he was supposed to, he might have made it.
“But I’ll be turning 15 meaning Dad’s taking me in to get my permit. Not that it really matters. I’m not finished with my ship, it’s a bit harder than I thought it would be, but once it’s done I’m not going to need an actual car. I’ll just fly everywhere.”
Once again Morty felt gross as he fixated on his grandsons age. He’d known Rick was young but in some of the pictures he looked even younger. He quickly shook the feelings off as best as he could before he finished reading the letter, his next letter already in the back of his head. But wanting to finish Rick’s first before starting his own.
Then pulling out the picture. Setting it on the small desk in his cell as he wrote.
It was another polaroid, this one looking a little old. One from his grandson going to the beach. Probably not too old however. Half in the water and someone off screen splashing him. Only wearing some rather short swim shorts. That one would definitely not be going into his pocket.
“As I’m writing this with only a week before your birthday I don’t think it'll get to you in time. But if it does happy birthday. Would probably be a good idea to get a license, even if for no other reason than needing another form of id.
This isn’t supposed to be a lecture.
I just got out of solitary so I only just got your letter. Was in for a whole month. Probably something about teaching me a lesson. It was only a small fight after all and not something I go doing all the time. But I was looking at one of your pictures and someone made a comment about it. I don't even really remember the fight.”