somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Friday Evening [10/05].

Summer Smith definitely didn't get this far into her (okay, technically still pretty short) life without developing a high sense of when something a little weird was going down, and she'd had more than enough bad encounters to feel like it was probably a bad idea to give into the urge to head back out to the woods like she'd been feeling all week. Probably. If didn't necessarily feel like a bad idea, but she also didn't feel like she could entirely trust her feelings, either.

So that meant distractions. That meant putting on some loud music and maybe dealing with complaints later, but whatever. It meant maybe cleaning her kitchen. Or making some jello to bring to BDG on Sunday. Or make jello, then clean the kitchen. She thought about maybe dipping into her stash a little, too, ease off some of the weird feeling, but that didn't seem the best idea. If this turned out to be more than a feeling, she wouldn't want to have to be forced to deal with it while also being high.

Although maybe that would help...

...no. Music, jello, cleaning, and if that didn't help, maybe go out to Caritas for a drink and maybe see if anyone else was feeling it, too. For now, just jello, and trying not to wonder why she'd been thinking about Morty so much lately, and maybe popping into her phone every once in a while to check on a few feeds from home.

Everything seemed fine. It was fine. She was probably just antsy because she wasn't used to things being so calm and chill for any long stretch of time. No big deal...

[[toes open if'n you like, but the thread with a certain visitor's going to be last chronologically, yo ]]

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This was his own fault, really. Morty should have known better than to think that Summer would actual come to meet him. Even though Summer had pretty much called him, but whatever. What else would he expect from his bitch of a sister? She'd probably just ignore that he was there, why even bother calling him back from the dead in the first place? Maybe he should just go back to being worm food, it was probably more exciting and self-validating...

...ah, who was he kidding? He just wanted to see her again, and he knew she wanted to see him, too, or else he wouldn't be there. Thankfully, it wasn't too difficult to find her, and the music just confirmed any doubts he may have had, so he knocked on the door.

And then knocked a few more times, but trying to make it loud enough to go over the music.

Summer had been slicing some hot dogs lengthwise for a decorative accent when she thought she heard something like a knock at her door, paused, thought she heard it again and then set down her knife and went to turn down her music to confirm that, yup, that was someone loudly banging their fist on her door. She groaned, feeling pretty certain it was going to be a neighbor complaining about the noise, she threw open the door ready to launch into a defense.

And immediately had the vitriol blown right out of her.

"Morty," she blinked. "What the hell? What are you doing here?" Another blink, her heart jumping in her chest a little. "Is everything okay?"

"uhhh, h-hi, Summer," Morty said lamely, tapping his fingers together a little because she seemed kind of surprised, didn't she? But he thought she...? He bit his lip a little. "I, uh....y-yeah, everything...everything's fine. I...I think. I just...I just wanted to see you, I guess. H-Hey! Is this your new apartment?" He tried to crane his neck to see around her. "Looks pretty nice!"

"Uh, yeah," Summer frowned, stepping aside, gesturing an arm out, "come on in, I guess."

Something about this definitely felt weird and off and she couldn't quite put her finger on it, narrowing her eyes slightly at Morty and trying to parse out why something about him seemed...different. Really different. Did this have something to do with that rock? All those weird dreams she'd been having?

"It's not much," she felt the need to add, "but, hey, at least it's better than that shitty place Dad got after the divorce, right?" She laughed a little. "I'll always have that. No matter what, it won't ever get that bad. Not a prostitute or crackhead in sight!"

And now it was Morty's turn to be surprised. "D-Divorced?" His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Mom and Dad got divorced?"

"Uh...yeah," said Summer, eyeing him strangely. "I mean, it was kind of a whole thiiiohmygod." It hit her just like that. "You're a different Morty."

Things were starting to make a little more sense now. Not a whole lot more, but a little bit, sure.

Morty's expression went a bit petulant at that, arms folding over his chest because he didn't cross the threshold to wind up standing there being called a different Morty.

"Um, excuse you," he rolled his eyes. "I think you mean the Morty. O-G Morty."

Summer was just going to roll her eyes and fold her arms in front of her, too, making it very clear that, yeah, these two definitely shared some DNA, good luck trying to refute it. "Yeah, right, sure, Morty," she snorted. "Nice try. But my original Morty is deaaOhmygod."

There it was again, and as soon as she said it, she knew it was true, just deep down inside and she couldn't deny it, she felt it, and before he could even be remotely smug about it, she lurched forward a little to throw her arms around him and pull him into a hug whether he liked it or not.

"Ohmygod, it's really you, isn't it? How? Why?"

MHA #4; Friday Evening [10/05].

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