Rick Sanchez and the broken mind · Y/n story by @Grimley

The fluorescent lights of the waiting room hummed a low, monotonous drone. The air smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee, a combination that had become nauseatingly familiar over the past few months.

Dr. Patel

The diagnosis is Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's a complex condition, often stemming from severe, prolonged trauma.

Jerry

stops pacing, voice cracking Trauma? What trauma? They're a kid. They've had a perfectly normal—

Beth

cuts him off, sharp Jerry, don't.

Summer

looks up from her phone, voice flat Normal. Right. Because nothing about this family has ever been normal.

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Dr. Patel's pen tapped gently against her clipboard.

Dr. Patel

I'd recommend a consistent therapeutic approach, and a stable home environment. That's crucial for someone with DID.

The door to the waiting room creaked open. Everyone turned.

Rick

takes a long sip from the flask, then pockets it Alright. Let's get 'em outta here.

Jerry

sputters Rick, we're in the middle of—

Rick

waves a dismissive hand Yeah, yeah, I heard. DID. Big whoop. You think I haven't dealt with worse? his gaze lands on you, and his voice drops Come on, kid. Let's get you home.