Rod's hands clenched so hard the tendons stood out like steel cables.
"Say that shit again, old man. I dare you."
Rick's grin didn't waver.
"Sure. Picture it—29-year-old rainbow god, all high and mighty, kneeling in the middle of a nursery at 3 A.M., trying to figure out which end of the baby the diaper goes on.
Multiversal savior, cosmic badass, Rod the Righteous… now featuring burp cloths."
Rod took a step forward, his aura flickering dangerously.
"Rick…"
Rick held up a hand, already snickering.
"Oh, and get this—when they grow up, they'll call you Big Bro Rod.
Imagine introducing yourself to alien dignitaries like that."
Rod's shoulders tensed, the rainbow glow spreading up his arms.
"I'm warning you—"
"Warning me about what?" Rick cut in, feigning innocence.
"That you'll time-out me? Maybe ground me until after nap time?"
He smirked.
"Face it, kid, you'd be the galaxy's most powerful babysitter."
Rod's fists balled, and for a moment, the air around him warped from the heat of his aura.
He took another half-step closer—and then a soft voice floated from the hallway.
"What are you two doing?"
Both men froze.
Diane was standing there in the doorway, hair slightly tousled from sleep, wearing a loose T-shirt and an unreadable expression.
Her calm smile cut through the charged air like it didn't even exist.
Rod's aura fizzled instantly, vanishing like it had never been there.
"Uh… nothing."
Rick, of course, didn't miss a beat.
"Just bonding over baby names."
Rod shot him a glare that could've melted tungsten.
Diane raised an eyebrow but didn't press, just stepping into the room with that same serene look.
"Well, keep it down. Some of us are trying to rest."
She passed between them, the calm in her voice somehow making the tension even heavier.
Rick waited until she disappeared back into the hallway before leaning toward Rod and whispering,
"I'm thinking Dhe Sanchez. Has a nice ring, huh?"
Rod's fingers twitched like he might actually swing.
Rod kept his glare locked on Rick, fingers twitching like he was one insult away from rearranging his jaw.
Rick, naturally, still had that smug curve to his mouth.
And then Diane reappeared in the doorway, arms loosely crossed, head tilted just enough to look casual—but her eyes moved between the two of them with surgical precision.
"You two done measuring your dicks yet?" she asked, voice calm, almost amused.
Rod straightened slightly. "We're not—"
"Yes, we are," Rick cut in at the same time, tone flat.
Diane's smirk deepened a hair.
"Mm-hm. You think I don't hear it in your voices?
That… edge. Not just banter.
More like two people who want to punch each other but can't decide if it's worth the effort."
She stepped into the room, bare feet silent on the floor.
"Guess I should be flattered."
Rod opened his mouth, but she raised a hand to stop him.
"I've been thinking," she said, settling onto the arm of the couch.
"You know why I don't… grieve like maybe I should?
Not after Rick explained all the things he did after me and Beth died?"
Rod hesitated. "…Why?"
Diane's tone was casual at first, almost conversational.
"Because I get it. He didn't just sit around crying—he did some questionable things.
Built, destroyed, hunted, drank, burned… whatever it took to keep him from collapsing.
I mean, sure, he looked like hell, but at least he was doing something."
She glanced at Rick with a faint smile.
"And he kept going. For years. Centuries maybe. Who even knows with him?"
Rick just watched her, unreadable.
Diane leaned forward slightly, voice dropping.
"And the thing is… I like knowing that. That he grieved for me.
Not just a little. Not just some sad look in the mirror every once in a while.
I'm talking years of it. Eating him alive."
Her tone sharpened as she kept talking, the pace picking up.
"I like knowing he couldn't let it go.
That it stayed with him, under his skin, in his bones.
That no matter what else he did, I was the ghost in the room.
The splinter in his brain. The itch he couldn't scratch."
Rod shifted slightly, brows furrowing.
"Mom…?"
She stood then, closing the gap between her and Rod in two steps.
Her hands reached up and twisted into the front of his shirt—not hard enough to choke him, but enough to pull him down toward her.
"And I love—" her voice dipped into something sharp and breathy "—how crazy that love really is."
Her eyes widened as she stared straight into his, pupils blown, the whites almost too bright.
"Do you not understand this, Rod?
He's not just sweet.
And the way he showed his feelings...he's mad in love with me, Rod!
The kind of love that makes a person tear holes in reality just to feel something again!
H-He tried everything, Rod!"
Rod's hands twitched at his sides, not sure whether to push her back or freeze in place.
She kept talking, the words coming faster now, the smile on her face pulling just a little too wide.
"A-And the best part?
I can see it. I can see it still there. I can feel it, even now, in this room.
All that fucking grief, all that obsession, sitting under his skin like a live wire, humming every time I walk past."
Rick shifted his weight but didn't interrupt.
Diane's fingers tightened in Rod's shirt, her gaze unblinking.
"I don't care if it's fucking crazy. I like crazy, Rod!
I like being the thing that could break him again.
I like knowing he'd still burn galaxies for me.
And I don't think—" her voice hitched with a laugh "—I'd ever want it any other way."
Diane's grip on Rod's shirt didn't loosen.
If anything, it tightened, the fabric pulling taut over his chest.
She was still staring at him, but her words were aimed somewhere over his shoulder—straight at Rick.
"You know what the funny thing is?" she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial hush.
"I think I'd forgive him for anything. Anything. Because once someone loves you like that—once they break themselves over you—you can't unsee it.
You can't go back to normal."
Rod's jaw clenched, his mind working behind his glare.
He'd seen obsession before—hell, he'd felt it—but there was something in her tone that didn't sound like gratitude.
Rick shifted his stance, and for the first time all night, there was a flicker—just a flicker—in his expression.
Not anger. Not his usual smirk.
A facial of madness that he tried to mask but couldn't quite hide.
Diane didn't notice.
"You think I didn't hear you in the kitchen that night?" she went on, still holding Rod like an anchor.
"Talking to yourself, half-drunk, telling me you'd burn it all down again if it meant getting me back?
You didn't know I was listening, right, baby?"
Rick's mouth opened, then closed again, his eyes narrowing just slightly.
"And you know what?" Her smile twitched at the corner.
"That's the moment I knew. That's the moment I realized you'd never stop.
That if I disappeared tomorrow, you'd start the whole bloody cycle all over again.
And I—" She gave Rod's shirt a sharp tug. "—love that about you."
Rod finally tore his eyes away from her and glanced at Rick.
The old man wasn't smirking anymore.
His jaw was set, and there was a stiffness to his shoulders Rod didn't see often.
It clicked.
Rick wasn't unsettled at all—he was elated.
And not by what she knew, but by how she was saying it.
Diane finally let go of Rod's shirt, smoothing the wrinkles with an absent pat, as if the last minute hadn't happened.
She turned and walked toward the hallway, tossing a casual, "Don't stay up too late, boys," over her shoulder.
The second she was out of earshot, Rod spoke, voice low.
"She's not just in love with you, old man. Is my mom's always this...emotional?"
Rick didn't answer right away.
Just stared at the spot she'd disappeared, his expression unreadable but his silence saying plenty.
Rod folded his arms.
"Yeah. Thought so."
Rick finally dragged his eyes away from the hallway and blew out a sharp breath through his nose.
"Alright, enough of your psychoanalysis, kid.
You're not charging me for the session, are you?"
Rod smirked, leaning back slightly.
"Nah. Just enjoying the show.
My mom's too cute. If you can't handle her anymore, that's on you."
Rick rolled his eyes.
"Please. I can handle a yandere. I fell in love with that specific yandere, remember?
She's my wife, you stinky little brat."
Rod barked out a short laugh.
"Yeah, yeah. You do you, old man. I'm just glad I'm not the one fucking up here."
He clapped Rick on the shoulder—maybe a little harder than necessary.
"Now go back there and do whatever it is you do.
I've got a godhood trial for Beth and Morty to run."
Rick arched an eyebrow. "Beth and Morty? Together?"
Rod just grinned.
"Both. And if you're free, you can watch from the side with Mom.
She'll probably enjoy the chaos."
Rick smirked faintly, shaking his head as Rod turned to leave.
"Guess I'll bring the popcorn."
Rod glanced back over his shoulder, that grin still in place.
"You better. The next round's gonna be epic!"
Rod flicked open a swirling oval of multicolored light with a snap of his fingers, the air humming as the portal locked into place.
"Alright, old man, try not to break my mom while I'm gone," he said over his shoulder before stepping through the portal.
- - - - - - - - - -
EARTH C-131
The door slammed shut, and the echo of Morty's departure lingered like a bad aftertaste.
He was gone—off with Rod and the younger version of Beth, chasing Rick into whatever insane warzone reality had vomited up this time.
The silence in the Smith living room was thick, punctuated only by the hum of the fridge and the faint buzz of the TV no one had turned off.
Summer broke it first, leaning back against the couch, arms crossed and voice dipped in sarcasm.
"So… we'll just wait for Morty to come back with good news, right?"
Beth and Space Beth turned to look at each other.
It wasn't a gentle glance—it was the kind of look two lions gave before deciding who got to maul the gazelle.
They spoke in perfect, venom-laced unison.
"Like fuck we are."
The room immediately split into motion.
Beth started pacing one way, Space Beth the other, both unraveling plans like rival generals barking orders before a war neither had actually declared yet.
"First thing," Beth snapped, already ticking things off on her fingers.
"We need intel, weapons, fallback options, and backup plans for the backup plans—"
"And a ship," Space Beth interrupted, her tone sharp as broken glass.
"Cloaking fields, plasma cutters, maybe even a strike team of Tralfamadorian mercs. I know a guy."
"You always know a guy," Beth shot back. ", BUT your guys usually come with hundreds of meetings before getting into action!"
Space Beth smirked, unbothered.
"Yeah? Well, your guys are wine clubs and horseback riding. At least my guys get things done."
Summer groaned loudly.
"Awesome. My moms are writing competing doomsday shopping lists.
Should I start knitting us matching war uniforms out of Rick's dirty laundry, or…?"
Jerry, who had been holding a half-empty can of LaCroix like it was a peace offering, suddenly blurted out, his voice cracking like a teenager's.
"W-wait, guys! Just—sit on this for a sec!
Before you all go crazy… can I just ask one thing?"
All three women turned to him in unison.
United for the first time in the conversation.
"What!?"
Jerry swallowed, took a heroic gulp of his LaCroix, and immediately gagged at how warm and flat it was.
He coughed, tried again, and croaked out, "Uh… who's feeding the dog?"
The silence that followed could have frozen lava.
Summer squinted at him.
"Are you kidding me, dad?"
Space Beth's lip curled.
"Morty's out there with Rod and a child-version of me, probably fighting god-tier murder cults, searching for Rick who maybe will never come back and you're worried about the dog?"
Beth pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Jesus Christ, Jerry. If you don't grow a spine, I'll sell yours on the black market."
Jerry threw up his hands in a panic.
"I'm just saying!
The last time we look over something, Snuffles tried to take over the planet!
I think it's a reasonable question!"
Beth and Space Beth froze, sharing another glance—this one not combative, but wary.
For a flicker of a moment, the unthinkable crossed their minds.
Jerry… might actually have a point.
Summer rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't detach and roll under the couch.
She sighed and shoved her phone back in her pocket.
"This family's a joke, I need to go to spa with Tricia."
[Tricia's image]
Beth was already opening her mouth to argue again with her clone when Jerry's voice cracked through, unusually sharp for him.
"No—no, wait." He waved his arms nervously, LaCroix sloshing out onto the rug.
"That wasn't my real question. What I really wanna ask is…"
He hesitated, his lips wobbling.
The three of them turned in unison, expressions hovering somewhere between ugh, Jerry and okay, what now?
Jerry swallowed hard.
"Where's… our Rod?"
The room went dead quiet.
He pointed vaguely at the door Morty had stormed out of.
"Like, not that Rod—the one Morty just left with.
I mean this reality's Rod.
The one that belongs here.
Where the hell is he?
He's likely Rick's Rod, right?"
The silence deepened, thick and weird, like the house itself was trying to choke down the question.
Beth frowned, glancing at Space Beth.
"...He's got a point—we never actually asked, if he's this reality Rod or not.
But if he's not...why even come here and what happened to the Rod from this timeline?"
Summer made a face, skeptical.
"Wait, you're telling me the Rod we met is not your Rod, mom?"
Jerry nodded frantically, sensing for once that he had everyone's attention.
"Yes! Exactly! Rick's always going on about infinite universes, right?
But Rod's situation is similar like Diane, right?
Erased from existence and memory. But Beth, you said your memories of him restored, right?
Just like your memory with Diane, meaning Rod should appear here just like Diane did!
But he never was!"
Beth crossed her arms.
"That's not… true, we still don't know whether he's my Rod or not. Fuck this, now I'm so confused!"
Space Beth narrowed her eyes.
"Then, that's exactly why we need to find both Rod and Morty! We need to hear the truth from him!"
Summer groaned.
"Oh my god. Are we really about to side-quest for both Rod and Morty?
Morty just went out there finding Grandpa Rick, so why it looks like we're about to start hunting for them when we don't need to?
It'll be just a typical adventure, guys! Morty will be back, just like the usuals."
Jerry pointed both hands at her, his desperation mounting.
"No, no, don't you get it?
If this reality already had a Rod, then the one Morty ran off with isn't technically ours.
Which means…" He trailed off, realizing how insane he sounded but pushing through anyway.
"Which means..."
The living room fell into a strange quiet, where the weight of Rick's multiverse actually pressed down on their shoulders.
Beth exhaled slowly. "God damn it… finish your fucking sentence, Jerry!"
Space Beth glanced toward the window, eyes narrowing like she expected the night sky to wink back at her.
"Which means Morty didn't just leave with Rod and kid-me.
He left with… somebody else's Rod. And if that's true…"
Summer pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Oh great. So now we're just not finishing our sentence, are we?"
Jerry looked at them all, wide-eyed, a strange mix of terror and vindication swirling in his expression.
"I'm just saying, guys. If our Rod is still out there, then he's the one that can help us best finding where did all three of them went to."
"But, how can we find him? We can't find him with nothing, we don't have his hair, blood or anything.
If Rick's here, we can ask him to build us a gadget to find him. But he's not here, is he?"
Beth turned her head to Space Beth sighing, then she looked to the faraway sky.
"Where are you, Rod?"
- - - - - - - - - -
Do you get any of that?
Where's Rod?
That's all guys, peace!